A mummy unwrapping party -
An excerpt from Amid the Oncoming Storm
Quin's father is visiting him and Alannah in Ireland and tells them about the
strange pastime of mummy unwrapping parties...
​​
“You were where?” He looked at his father, sure he must have misunderstood what he’d said.
“At a mummy unwrapping party,” the baron enunciated patiently.
“A mummy…”
“I’ve heard of those,” Alannah said, making Quin gape at her instead.
“You mean…those actually exist?”
“Oh yes,” Alannah said as Quin finally dropped onto the seat he’d been hovering over. “My tutor, Mr Henderson, told me all about them. The mummy is slowly unwrapped before an audience, revealing myriad treasures buried within the bindings, not to mention the mummy itself.—But you were there, Wilfred, tell us about it!”
She looked eagerly at the older man, who turned toward Quin.
“Such parties were very popular in the 30s, Quinton, with large assemblies gathering to witness the mummy’s unwrapping. But I suppose you wouldn’t have paid much attention to such things then.”
Quin nodded absently, thinking back to his youth, which was filled with dreams of military glory rather than the Egyptomania that had taken root in Europe since Napoleon’s invasion of Egypt. While the idea of mummified bodies and long-lost treasure was certainly appealing to an adolescent boy, Quin hadn’t been nearly as obsessed with the topic as some and had always assumed much of what he’d heard must be exaggerated.
“I’d never had the opportunity to attend such an event before,” the baron went on, “and not much interest either, I must admit. The practice did become a little more subdued over the years but when I received a personal
invite to Lord Featherston’s private parlour to witness what he called…the unrolling of a mummy from Thebes at half-past two…well, my curiosity was piqued after all.”
“And?” Alannah leaned forward in her seat.
“Hm. It’s certainly something I’ll never forget. Featherston had Thomas Pettigrew himself perform the unwrapping.
—He’s the surgeon and antiquarian who introduced such parties to the world,” the baron explained, evidently for Quin’s benefit. “The man quite lived up to his moniker, Mummy Pettigrew, and I dare say he took great pleasure in ruthlessly tearing off each layer of encrusted bandages to reveal the shrunken body beneath. Poor Mr Ackland was quite overcome by what he deemed the undignified treatment of human remains and stormed off, looking rather green.” He shrugged. “I’m not sure what else he would have expected at the unwrapping of a mummy but either way, his departure didn’t distract Pettigrew in the least.”
“What did the mummy look like?” Quin asked, not sure if he should be fascinated or horrified.
“Quite unlike any body I’d ever seen. Desiccated and gaunt…but clearly human, nonetheless. It did give me a strange feeling to gaze upon a face that hadn’t seen the light of day in thousands of years.” The baron was quiet for a moment before continuing. “Pettigrew was thrilled at the mummy’s excellent condition, as he called it, having informed us beforehand that such a thing could never be guaranteed.”
“And were there any hidden treasures?” Alannah asked.
“Several amulets—meant to protect the deceased and ensure their safe passage to the afterlife, or so Pettigrew told us. But some of the linens the mummy was wrapped in were adorned with a great number of mysterious symbols that had the man quite beside himself with excitement.”
“Hieroglyphs?” Quin found he was rather engrossed in the topic himself by now.
His father nodded. “He said they were spells from the Book of the Dead, which were supposed to aid the deceased on their journey.”
“He was able to decipher the symbols?”
“Oh yes, Pettigrew quite prided himself on his abilities.”
“Did he tell you how the symbols were decoded in the first place?” Alannah asked, eyes bright with excitement.
“He did but I shall leave it to you to enlighten the ignorant among us.” The baron’s lips twitched into an amused smile as he glanced briefly at Quin, while Alannah’s cheeks turned pink.
“A stone was discovered several years ago,” she said to Quin, “inscribed with what turned out to be the same text in hieroglyphs, Greek and a third language, which was used to interpret the meaning of the Egyptian symbols—or at least a number of them.”
“Precisely,” the baron said. “Pettigrew told us the pharaohs who were descended from the Greek-speaking conquerors of Egypt still used the Greek language at the time, while hieroglyphs had become reserved for priests and temples by then. That turned out to be rather a stroke of luck as it meant the decree issued by the pharaoh was inscribed in both hieroglyphs and Greek, allowing for the hieroglyph’s translation.”
“What about the third language?” Quin asked, intrigued.
“Pettigrew said there was some speculation that the third language may be the written form of the time’s common tongue.”
“How fascinating.”
“It certainly was an enlightening afternoon,” the baron agreed.
“Fascinating and enlightening no doubt,” Alannah said, “but I’m not sure I’d want to be unwrapped in front of an audience if I were the mummy in question.”