The Egyptian ruler Tutankhamun has continued to fascinate ever since his tomb was unearthed by the British archaeologist Howard Carter in 1922; an exhibition, Treasures of the Golden Pharaoh, is running at the Saatchi Gallery in London from November to May. A show at the British Museum in London in 1972 was a sensation; all the more reason to protect the objects, on loan from Egypt. Here we continue the story of the securing of the historic items at their most vulnerable time; not when they are fixed in position at the museum, where permanent staff can stand guard, but while they are on their journey to and from their usual and temporary home.
Jack Mannings, the security adviser to the National Gallery, plainly had a wider remit. He wrote to New Scotland Yard on January 24, 1973 on behalf of the British Museum asking for the escort back to the airport. A member of the government of the United Arab Republic (the name of Egypt in those days) would travel to Cairo with each load.
As for the actual exhibition, an anonymous typed letter with a Hemel Hempstead postmark, stamped for receipt on July 5, 1972 complained about ‘snake-like queues’ that wound slowly around in the dark, peering at glass cases; ‘bottle-necks of pushing people … two hours of hot darkness … where are the walkie-talkie sets to control the numbers? The man at the entrance gate succumbs to the temptation to let just a few more in. someone breaks under the strain. The attendants are efficient and dispense cups of water and push heads between knees but are they trained or paid enough to carry this gruelling daily responsibility? A burly policeman is needed to forcibly move people onwards.’ In short, the letter was complaining that the public was being treated ‘like human icing sugar’, and reckoned that the crush was so that the museum could make more profit.
Then as since, a visitor attraction (such as the Tower of London displaying the Crown Jewels) has to balance between security of exhibits, and safety of visitors, and letting in as many as want to come. A note by police saw no cause for police action. The memo writer had himself attended the exhibition. The lay-out was deliberate to reproduce the atmosphere of the tombs; the small rooms, the muted lighting. Some items attracted more attention than others, but the attendants did ‘gently persuade’ people to move on. he admitted that the queue was for three or four hours; so that once inside you did want to take a leisurely look without pushing.
Picture by Mark Rowe; artefact (non-Tutankhamun) at the British Museum.
Part three: how the exhibits got to the Museum, in the night.
