This is, perhaps, one of the most difficult chapters to write, for to such a pitch of perfection have the forgers brought their reproductions, that it is now extremely difficult for even well-known Egyptologists to give a definite statement concerning the genuineness or otherwise of a specimen submitted to them.

Some years ago the authorities at the Museum in Cairo would give their decision regarding antiquities shown to them by visitors, but now that is all changed, and they refuse to express an opinion. The Egyptians, however, still loudly protest that they are willing to have their scarabs submitted to the Museum authorities, knowing perfectly well that the experts there will give no opinion at all; but they hope that by so frankly and freely making this offer, the collector will take it for granted that the specimen is genuine, otherwise they would not be willing to take the risk of submitting it to such authorities.

From time to time the vendors make a coup, which, as there is a certain freemasonry amongst them, becomes known, and stimulates others to renewed efforts.

The novice in antiquities is extremely likely to be taken in, and should he show any disposition to buy, or express a wish to purchase, articles other than those shown to him, by some mysterious means the news goes round, and immediately there gather from all parts sellers of specimens both false and real. These men will never give each other away, but will back up the most lying assertions with surprising assurance mingled with the most childlike assumption of innocence. If found out, they will swear by their gods that it is you who are mistaken, not they. They will look you straight in the face while telling you the most bare-faced untruths. This attitude they will carry to a great length and then suddenly break down, grin, and admit that the supposed antiquity is a fraud, but will deny any desire to cheat you. Later on they will make a special journey to see you again, bringing with them some more forgeries, fondly hoping that you may be induced to buy one of them.

The scarab, or replica of the sacred beetle of Egypt, was used as a seal, an amulet, or a charm, and was buried with the dead in large numbers, sometimes arranged in a certain form upon the mummy’s chest. In the place of the heart there is frequently to be found a large scarab with sayings from the Book of the Dead inscribed upon it. It was supposed that the sacred beetle would ward off attacks of evil spirits, and give the dead a better chance of resting in peace in the other world. Sometimes a scarab would be inscribed with the records of an event, such as a voyage to Punt. Amenhotep III, in celebration of his marriage with Queen Tiy, issued a large number of scarabs, carved in stone and engraved with a record of the event. (Breasted.)

The forgeries of scarabs are very numerous, and date back to remote periods. A few thousand years ago, it was not uncommon for a maker of charms to forge scarabs and amulets belonging to a king or a period long past, and sell them as the real article, for then, as now, the real antique had the greater value.

During the past few years, the making of forgeries has received a great impetus owing to the scarcity of the real articles, and the ever-increasing demand. Many are the humorous tales told about the difficult positions in which experts have found themselves, when suddenly confronted with palpable frauds and a demand for an expression of opinion.

A story is told of an expert who wished to play off a joke upon a very old and valued friend. So he fashioned two scarabs, and cut upon them the story of the circumnavigation of Africa. There is an ancient record that two scarabs were really in existence bearing inscriptions concerning this journey. It is said that Necho had them made during his lifetime and had the record of the journey cut upon them, but up to the present they have not been found. The expert intended to send those he had made round to his old friend as a birthday present, and the two would have laughed and chuckled together over the joke. Finally he put them away in his desk to await the proper time to send them, and then other matters claimed his attention so that he forgot all about them.

Some years later an illness came on, and he died. When his effects were disposed of, these scarabs were found and sold to a museum for £400. After a time they were discovered to be forgeries, and an action at law was brought in Europe. Despite the fact that the sellers pleaded ignorance and good faith, one was sentenced to imprisonment, not for fraud, but for the civil debt, owing to inability to refund the amount.

That the scarabs were imitation was first discovered by a grammatical error in the inscription, and this led to a closer examination of the material used, which proved to be lithographic stone.

On another occasion, an excavator was being entertained by a very rich man. While smoking after dinner a number of scarabs were produced, and the excavator’s opinion was asked as to their being genuine or not. £74 had been paid for them, and the excavator was obviously in a dilemma, for not one of them was genuine. He looked at them carefully, one by one, and then laid them down, saying that he would not like to express an opinion.

“Come,” urged his host, “tell me what you think. I know you are an expert, and I want your opinion on them.”

“Well, if you really want to know, they are all forgeries,” said the expert grimly.

There was silence for a moment, and the host looked ruefully at the row of sacred beetles. Then, being a good sportsman, he said, “Don’t say a word to the ladies. We will keep it to ourselves.”

PLATE VIII.

That gives the essence of the whole thing. The intrinsic value of a scarab is, perhaps, sixpence; the archÆological value is whatever one likes to put upon them. And so cleverly are the forgeries made that people are just as happy with the imitations as they would be with the real articles, provided, of course, that they remain in blissful ignorance of the truth.

One day, a big hand was laid upon my shoulder, and a broad American voice chuckled in my ear, “Hello, Doc, fancy meeting you here.” He was an old friend, and the meeting was a pleasant one. In answer to the question how he had come there, so far from his beloved New York, he answered:

“Wal, I just sort of blew in, wanted a change, and Wall Street not being what I call a business proposition at this moment, I thought I’d come. And now I’ll just go up the Pyramid.”

Later on he came back with a chastened mien.

“Well, how did you get on?”

“Why, it was fine. The view ain’t exactly like the Rocky Mountains scenery, but it was fine all the same. And I bought some sca-rabs.”

“You didn’t! Let me see them.”

As he fumbled about for three miserable little specimens, he explained how it came about.

“You know that place, half-way up, where the stones jut out? Wal, when we got there, them durned A-rabs stopped and said, ‘Say, mister, this is the place where they buy sca-rabs.’ I looked down, and saw that it was a two hundred feet clean drop to the bottom, and I said that I thought it was, so I bought them.”

“How much did you pay for them?”

“Two dollars.”

“Let me see them.”

Then he produced his scarabs.

“They are forgeries,” was my remark.

“That may be,” said my friend complacently, “but it was a clean drop to the bottom from that durned stone, and I guess I am not hankering after eternal glory just now.”

Among the scarabs was one with the name of Khaf-Ra, the builder of the Second Pyramid (Plate VIII, No. 30) upon it. The workmanship is quite modern, and up to the present no contemporary scarabs have been found bearing Khaf-Ra’s name. However, as he had only paid 8s. for them, he had not been very badly done.

A very large number of scarabs have been found which are made of composition material, or cut out of a piece of stone and left uncoloured. These fetch very small prices, although they may be the genuine articles, therefore the up-river men have taken to re-glazing them. They obtain pieces of old glaze from the ushebti figures and pieces of old glass and melt these down. But the re-glazed scarabs can usually be detected, even although the colour may be correct, by the irregularity of the glazing, and the fact that between the legs of the beetle the dirt can usually be seen under the glaze.

Sometimes the makers grind up these poor and broken scarabs and remould them. Then they re-glaze them, and swear to you by Allah that they are indeed old.

The natives oil antiquities to make them look polished or to enhance the colour. This method the forgers are applying now to their productions.

There is a man at Qus who is a most clever forger of gold jewellery, but he also does a good deal of work recutting scarabs. His procedure is to grind the inscription off the base of the original scarab, recut the cartouche, and re-glaze it. The scarabs can be detected by the thinness of the base plate, and by the peculiar manner in which the hawks are made, with a hump on the back, like the Mut vulture.

Most of the spurious scarabs were, until a year or two ago, made at Luxor, where one man in particular is an artist at the work. I have known him ask 8s. for one which he had just finished, and obstinately refuse to take less. “I am not like the fellaheen, who work for five piastres a day,” he declared. “I do good work, and am going to be paid for it.” He did not see any harm in what he was doing, nor did he try to keep his business secret, and he took a pride in turning out work which was very difficult to tell from the original.

It is curious in what out-of-the-way places these scarabs turn up. Recently, in a consulting-room in Harley Street, one was put before me and my opinion asked. It had been given to the physician by a grateful patient. I did not answer, but after a good look laid it down. “I thought so,” said the doctor quietly, as he picked it up and slipped it into a drawer.

One of the most remarkable features of scarab buying is the number of people who will avoid respectable shops where the proprietors have a reputation to lose, on the score that they are too dear, and then pick up with some boy in the street who has a glib tongue and a plausible manner, and who brings out the inevitable tin box with a motley assortment of worthless odds and ends. Once let such a boy get an inkling of the fact that you mean to buy, and he will be back next day with a fresh lot of good-looking anticas. Where they come from is a mystery, but I suspect that there is a system of interchange between these men, and that they sell for one another and settle up afterwards.

I remember a lady who scornfully declined to buy from a respectable shop, and then found a boy who told her a long story of how he dug anticas up and sold them cheaper than other people. I know that she bought nearly £50 worth from him, but how much more I never heard. Later on, the buyer will to a certainty get a rude shock over some of her cherished possessions.

Amulets, or wishing scarabs, are frequently to be bought. The frauds can, as a rule, be told by their light weight and velvety feel, and by the crudeness of the work; but this last is not invariable, and every year the scarab forgers are producing a better article.

Walking along the river-front at Luxor one day, I was accosted by an old man who produced a rag in which was tied up a piece of old broken pottery. This was the lure, for upon my refusing to buy it, he took out a small object rolled up in pink paper. This turned out to be a fine specimen of a walking scarab. The colour was good, and the inscriptions were very fair, while the undercutting was extremely good.

But somehow I do not like antiquities which are taken out of a piece of pink paper, and I refused it. A German who had been for many years in the country came along and snapped it up. Later on he informed me that he had paid only one and a half dollars for it, and that it was worth £4 or £5. For a long time he held forth upon its beauties and its wonderful cutting, declaring that he had not seen so fine a specimen for years. I had another good look at it, and saw plainly enough that it was an imitation, so I left him to enjoy his purchase.

It must be clearly understood that the majority of the vendors of scarabs are far better judges of their value than any ordinary collector, and therefore a man, even though he be only an old and dirty individual, would be most unlikely to sell for a dollar and a half a scarab which was worth £4 or £5; and the natives usually take their finds first of all to dealers, who would certainly not let a good scarab pass them.

European makers have now entered the arena, and are competing with the natives as makers of antiquities, but so far the latter have had the best of it. The group of scarabs numbered 1 to 5, Plate VIII, are either German or Italian work. They are very good indeed, perhaps too good. I had to pay 18s. for those specimens, nor could Ibrahim get them for me any cheaper. But I have always felt that I was done.

Some weeks after the man from whom these were purchased came again with some more. I was busy and Ibrahim was away, so the matter was placed in the hands of his son, who was instructed to obtain some for my collection if possible. Later he handed me four, and on looking them over, I saw to my astonishment that one was real. I asked how this had happened.

“Yes,” replied the youngster, “when I had picked out these four the man objected, and said that one was real. I looked at it with my father’s glass, and then offered to bet him a sovereign that it was not. He then said that he did not know that I understood scarabs so well, and let me have the four for 8s.” Later Ibrahim examined the scarab. “Yes,” he said, “the scarab is genuine, and bears the name of Khonsu. It is worth at least £2. My son has done well. Now we are even, for the man charged too much for the other five; but my son must never offer to bet again, as he might lose my money.”

Once, when in a great hurry, I was stopped by a young lady, who produced what looked like a damaged scarab, on which she asked my opinion. The light was very bad, and I had no time to spare, so I gave but a glance at the thing. She told me that she had found it at Abou Roash Pyramid. I wanted to be polite, and said that I thought it was a real scarab, but that it had by some chance been in the fire. She thanked me, and I hurried away. At dinner that night she told the story to a large and appreciative table, and handed the specimen round for the guests to see. She had made the thing with a penknife out of a piece of soft rock, and had coloured it with paint. I must admit that, when seen in a good light, the work was very rough, and that I ought not to have been taken in; but let any one who thinks himself wiser be placed under similar circumstances and see what happens. I have found, too, that the female sex is very apt to lay traps for the unwary male, whenever he affects, rightly or wrongly, to possess a superior knowledge upon any subject.

Mr. Weigall, the author of “Life and Times of Akhnaton,” told me that one day a lady showed him a scarab which she said she had bought from a little boy, who told her that he had stolen it from Weigall’s excavations. She finished up her story by saying, “And I am sure it must be true, for he had such an honest little face.”

Here is another scarab story. A friend was once in the Khan Khaleel bazaar in Cairo, and was approached by a young man in native dress who offered for sale a handful of scarabs. My friend, who is an expert and very well known, was considerably astonished at the man’s impudence, for they were the common green scarabs made in great quantities at the present day to sell to the native women, and these are now being exported even as far as the Sudan. After a few pointed remarks, it seemed that the man was acting in good faith. He was very much taken aback by my friend’s ridicule, and immediately ran off to a native who was dressed in European clothes and seated outside a shop about fifty paces away. A violent quarrel was started, the end of which my friend did not wait to see, but it was quite clear that the scarabs had been sold by the shopkeeper under some sort of guarantee that they were genuine antiquities.

In some cases scarabs are brought straight from the manufactory and placed upon the market. In other cases they are buried in dung-heaps to give them the odour of antiquity, then taken out, oiled and rubbed with dirt, which makes them look old and worn. Then the man will carry them about with him for a considerable time, and eventually they are ready to be offered to the unwary collector. To my own personal knowledge, experienced dealers in antiquities are being taken in frequently by these modern forgeries.

The following are a few of the defects which are to be noted in some of the specimens illustrated on Plate VIII.

The first five scarabs are of a turquoise blue colour, made of china, and most probably of European manufacture. The modelling is good, but the colour is unusual and too glossy.

No. 1 has a wish, “May you live for ever,” cut upon its base.

No. 2 has a cartouche of Thothmes III. upon it.

No. 3 is very well cut. The inscription is a little uneven, but the only sign of imitation is that the glazing is too bright.

No. 4 has also the cartouche of Thothmes III. upon it, but is badly cut.

In No. 5 the pro-thorax of the beetle is out of proportion.

No. 6 is a small and very well-shaped scarab of a beautiful colour. The modelling is very good, and the maker has imitated the wear upon the old scarabs exceedingly well. He has run a very fine line of glaze between the wings and the thorax, but the features of the head are indicated by marks and not by cuttings. This is only to be seen with a magnifying glass. The above was bought for three piastres, but represents one of the most beautiful forged scarabs I have ever seen.

No. 7 is of good colour, but badly shaped. The inscription is fairly well cut, except that the serpents come out from the bottom of the cartouche instead of from the side, and the name of Thothmes III. is not clearly cut.

No. 8. This scarab is made of soft white composition, and painted black. The inscription, Ra-Men-Kheper, is beautifully cut, but unfortunately this does not show well in the illustration. The making of forged black scarabs is a new departure which has been seen for the first time this year. The price paid was 2s.

No. 9. The cutting and shape are not good. The lines on the back of the beetle are uneven, and the inscription is wrong. It is supposed to be “Horus of Lower Egypt,” but the lotus is cut wrongly and should be more pointed at the bottom of the flower.

No. 10 is a scarab made from an old amethyst bead. The hole for the thread is from side to side, whereas in an old scarab it is from before backwards. There is no inscription on the base.

No. 11 is bad in every way—too thick and uneven in make, and the inscription has no meaning.

No. 12. The colour is too dark. The letters in the inscription are poorly made, but mean “Life and Truth for ever.” The hole through the scarab is too narrow. The Egyptians did not possess a straight drill, therefore the holes made by them are slightly larger at one end than at the other.

No. 13 is an amulet, and supposed to be of the time of Usertsen in the twelfth dynasty. The name is correctly written, but the letters are not well cut.

No. 14. This might be Rameses II., but it is not correctly cut. Both these amulets are of very soft composition, and for this reason can be easily recognised as imitations.

No. 15. In this case the inscription is incorrect and uneven.

Nos. 16, 17, 18 are made of carnelian, and are very poor, both as regards cutting and shape. They have no inscription.

No. 19. This is not the conventional way of making scarabs. The legs are too pronounced. The letters of the cartouche are badly cut, and the line across the bottom of the cartouche is too low down. The inscription on the base is meaningless, and the glazing is obviously new.

No. 20. The hare is badly cut and proportioned. The inscription is uneven.

No. 21. This is a beautifully-cut double scarab of very unusual form. I bought it from a boy in the streets of Cairo for three piastres. It is extremely well moulded, and the colour is very good. It had been oiled, and had what looked like ancient dirt on its back. Upon rubbing this dirt I found a speck of gold underneath. For some time opinions differed as to whether this was a genuine scarab which had been stolen and sold by a man who did not know its real value, or whether it was a very clever imitation. Examination of the base showed that there were two inscriptions, divided in half by an ankh (key of life). But one sign was upside down, and some of the symbols are longer and larger than those on the corresponding side. The front legs are too broad, and quite standing up. It must have been a very difficult matter for the imitator to produce this unusual specimen.

No. 22. This represents a frog, and is very poor work. It is made of composition, is insufficiently glazed, and the shape is bad.

No. 23. This was meant for a goat, and bears three cartouches on its back. The inscriptions are incorrectly cut. The features are absent, and the glaze has been put on after the break across the back was done.

No. 24. This is unevenly glazed, and the inscription is incorrect and uneven; but the beetle is well shaped.

No. 25 is of good colour and shape, but rather thick. The inscription is of the time of Thothmes III., but the cartouche is unfinished, the serpents being only on one side of it, whereas they should be on both.

No. 26 is too thick, of a bad shape, and the cutting is poor. It is supposed to represent Horus.

No. 27 is of good colour, but the inscription is unevenly cut. It is supposed to represent Hathor, the goddess of beauty, love, and joy.

No. 28. This is made of old scarabs, which have been ground down and re-cast. For this reason the seller was able to swear the most sacred oath that it was real antica. The cutting of the letters is too shallow.

No. 29 is well cut, a good blue, supposed to be Amenhotep, but the letters are not in proper order, and are meaningless.

No. 30. This scarab bears the name of Khaf-Ra, and the story about it has been told on pages 73 and 74. It is made of composition, and the glaze is thick on one side and has not adhered properly to the other; but the scarab is well made.

No. 31 is a good colour, is made of stone, fairly cut, but the inscription has no meaning.

No. 32. This scarab bears the name of Rameses III. and has the inscription “The Governor of On” upon its base. The cutting is partly in high and partly in low relief. It is made of pottery and not quite correct in colour.

No. 33 is poor in make and cutting.

No. 34 is made of soft stone, fairly cut, but too pointed in shape. The inscription is not well done.

No. 35 is a bad colour, being a pale blue. The head is too large for a real beetle, and too flat; the legs too thick. The inscription is not cut evenly, and does not mean anything.

No. 36 is a very good colour. The burnt mark on the head was caused in the firing. The cartouche is cut too low down.

No. 37. A large stone scarab bearing the name of Thothmes III., incorrectly cut.

No. 38 is a blue decorative scarab, fairly well done.

No. 39 is a large beetle, bearing the cartouche of Thothmes III., but of a bad shape.

Some years ago, when crossing the Kasr-el-Nil bridge, a youth of the fellaheen class edged up to me and asked if I would purchase some seals. He said, “I have some very good ones.” I asked to see them and he produced one. I knew very little about seals, but thought there was no harm in buying a few. In the end I spent 8s. upon them, and when I got home examined them carefully. Apparently some of them were made of carnelian and had the characteristic marks of the stone, though they were considerably weathered.

One does not show antiquities in the frank manner that is common to other hobbies, so I put one in my pocket, and placed the others away in a safe drawer. Some days went past, and then my opportunity came. I was in the shop of a dealer noted for his keenness in detecting frauds, and after discussing various objects with him, I said, “Oh, I came across a seal the other day. Just look at it, will you?” and I casually passed it over the counter to him. He examined it carefully, and then a grim smile overspread his face. “How much did you pay for it?” “I paid 8s. for a lot,” I replied. “Oh, well then, you need not grumble, for they did me out of as many pounds as you paid shillings,” said the dealer. The seals were imitation, very cleverly made of glass, and rubbed with sand to produce the appearance of age.

Ancient Pigments

Ancient pigments always show at some part the unfaded colour. There is no such thing as uniform degradation of colour. There should be no general appearance of decay. The ancient things were made of fresh material, and were preserved carefully.

Egyptian blue is composed of sand, copper oxide, and soda, mixed together, ground finely, then moistened with water, tied up in a tiny bag the size of a walnut, put into a furnace and heated to the temperature of red-hot copper. This must be done in a small furnace, and the temperature must not be carried too high, or an ordinary green glass will result. The temperature must be just enough to fuse the copper, soda, and silica into what is called a frit, that is, the stage which immediately precedes the fusion of the ingredients which would result in glass. The ball of frit is taken out and pulverised, mixed with glue or gum arabic, and used as a paint. The depth of colour decreases if the paint is ground too finely.

The green colour is either the natural green ore (malachite), or an oxide or artificial carbonate.

The purple colour is manganese oxide.

The red colour is simply earthy hÆmatite or iron oxide.

The black colour is either carbon or black oxide of iron, or both mixed together, or the black oxide of manganese.

The yellow is plain yellow ochre, sometimes mixed with a little white.

Grey is wood ash, mixed with lime white, or powdered gypsum.

Lime white is merely ordinary lime which has got stale or slacked.