Sunday, July 15, 2018

dear dr. granville, there’s been a discovery

I just read about the latest discovery in the pyramids—a mummification workshop. Will the great mysteries of Egyptian mummification at last be revealed? Will there be any mention of beeswax? So far I’ve read only of “oils and substances” being found, but surely specific identifications will come, and suddenly my research into Dr. Augustus Bozzi Granville (father Italian, mother Cornish) feels a bit less abstruse. I’m glad I found and snatched up just this week that one copy of his autobiography found online (“First edition, 2 volumes complete, in half leather boards with marbled end papers and cut edge. Minor signs of repairs to the spine creases of Volume 1 and its end paper hinges reinforced with a strip of red tape. Boards clean and bright with some rubbing of the edges. Both books firm with contents in nice condition.”). The books are coming from England. The title alone brings joy.
Autobiography of A. B. Granville, M.D., F.R.S.,—Being 88 Years of the Life of a Physician Who Practiced His Profession in Italy, Greece, Turkey, Spain, Portugal, The West Indies, Russia, Germany, France, and England. Edited, with a Brief Account of the Last Years of His Life, by His Youngest Daughter, Paulina B. Granville.
To refresh, Dr. Granville (1783-1872) is the guy who scraped adipocere from a mummy, thinking it was beeswax, turned it into candles. Yes, that Dr. Granville and no, I’m not done with him yet because I am so glad to have his account of this event. I perused parts of his autobiography online. He writes of obtaining the mummy:
A young baronet, Sir Archibald Edmonstone, just returned in bad health from a long incursion into Egypt, applied to me for advice, and at the same time commenced a conversation on the subject of Alexandria, which we had both of us visited, branching off into an account of a visit he had paid to the kings’ tombs, where he had been able not only to penetrate into the mummy pits, but, a rare privilege, had purchased one of the best preserved specimens, judging from the exterior case, which was perfect both in material and painting. This he had brought home with him, and kept in his house in Wimpole Street, where I went to see it. …
Of the unwrapping and dissection:
The case was in Savile Row the next day. On that day week my dining-room was open at one o’clock to some scientific and other friends, to witness the examination of the mummy. During the week I had had the case carefully opened, which proved to be made of sycamore wood an inch thick, whitewashed or plastered in its interior, with long ranges of hieroglyphic inscriptions painted in black characters. The body, enveloped in all its cloth wrappers, being taken out and deposited on a long table, was searched all over for papyri or amulets or any ornament, but nothing was discovered except a few segments of very slender glass tubing, tinted pale blue, and looking like enamel, and a few grains of wheat that looked as fresh as any grain of wheat of the last harvest. …
Of the wax:
I claim in this laborious investigation to have demonstrated the fact of wax having been the ingredient which was successfully employed, not only to preserve the body from putrefaction, but also to keep the membranes as well as the ligaments in their supple condition, so that when the wax was discharged from them by the process of boiling in water, the soft parts came out with their natural structure, and in less than twenty-four hours underwent decomposition and putrefaction. To these facts antiquaries and such persons as are versed in the old Egyptian language, add the information that the Egyptian word corresponding to wax is “mum.” …
And, finally, the lighting of the candles made from the wax:
… some of the wax obtained being manufactured into small tapers, which were lighted and burned during the lecture. …
Dear Dr. Granville, Thank you. I turn to you for the last word (for now):
When I look back to the work I spontaneously took upon myself to perform unsolicited by anyone, and to the nature of the work itself, I fear that I must confess that the motives that induced me to undertake it were akin to that spirit of restless impatience which the good preceptors in my college early divulged to my parents, when they sent me home for my holidays with a very gratifying encomium of my intellectual progress somewhat damaged by an explicit lament over the listlessness of my temperament and my love of change. I was born to be a reformer! …