Princely Priest of Bolton

At the museum in Bolton lies a strange mummy. It is likely the corpse of an ancient Egyptian priest on account of its shaved head, castration and arthritic knees for having spent so long kneeling on stone floors. As Egypt was cluttered by the great temples of countless gods, this does not make our dead friend particularly notable. Yet his facial features match almost perfectly that of Rameses II, called ‘the Great’. He has the old king’s exact measurements, including the jutting jaw. As Rameses had over 50 sons and a similar number of daughters, some of whom became priests, this chap is likely one of them.

Three thousand years ago, when the embalmers set to work to preserve his body for the afterlife, I do not think they had set Bolton, Lancashire, as their premier destination. Naked and exposed to the goggling and joshing of school children, this once powerful and beautifully attired man is now a museum exhibit, a curious memento from a previous age and place. No longer is he a royal priest, no longer does he lead the ritual and worship of his chosen god, whose existence even Egyptians have rejected. While his body gazes out of its case in Bolton, his spirit awaits the judgement of the God of Abraham, about whom the priest had likely heard, but seldom, presumably, enquired. There are countless billions like him in Hades, wishing they still had your breath and current opportunity to seek the living God