I never fail to be marvelled by the intricacy of certain Egyptian objects like this almost 4000-year-old game of Hounds and Jackals, even though I am aware that when people refer to ‘Ancient Egypt’ they could be referring to any moment across several different millennia. 

For those of us requiring visual references for the purposes of a timeline, let’s compare it to our other Egyptian playthings. It was made 500 years after this lovely linen and cord ball was buried with its young owner, and at least 300 years before these knucklebones were used to play with.

[To illustrate our timeline further, let’s take a look at this beautifully crafted cosmetics vessel in the shape of a frog, dating from around 3300 BC, one and a half millennia before this game of Hounds and Jackals was made.  For a fun comparison, if we went back in time 1500 years from now, we’d be in the 6th century AD: the Visigoths would be in Spain, Anglo-Saxon kingdoms would be established in what is now England, and, according to the Maya chronicles, the city of Uxmal would have been founded recently in present-day Mexico. All of this is to remind myself that ‘Ancient Egypt’ refers to very long period in time, and that complex, playful, intricate objects were being crafted throughout most of it.]

I often lose track of time while browsing through collections of Egyptian objects, and invariably catch myself making the same internal, silent exclamations again and again – yes, certain Egyptian objects really do feel astoundingly modern and accessible to us now, and I never tire of the excitement they offer.  I especially like seeing hinges, doors, drawers, and locks (note the mechanism holding in the drawer on the front of this game), as well as everyday artefacts like combs, mirrors, or cosmetics jars. Those wishing to share my detours can take a look at this incredible cosmetics box, belonging to a butler named Kemeni, who served king Amenemhat IV. It was found in the same tomb as our boardgame here and is displayed with a mirror belonging to an official named Reniseneb, which was found in the wrappings of Reniseneb’s mummy. These wrappings also included a lovely faience hippopotamus and a ‘shen’ amulet.

When we look at objects like these, our imagination doesn’t have to work hard, because it is grounded in actions we understand. We have all fiddled with a lock, played a fun boardgame, opened a drawer, or picked straggly hairs out of a comb, so the connection with these objects and the people who used them feels tangible and reassuringly unfanciful.

I had been hoping to do a portrait of this smaller (significantly more modest) example of the board game, which, without the hounds and jackals inserted, looks a lot like an enchanted piece of furniture that has sprouted legs and is about to run off to chase an invisible tail. It also looks satisfyingly sturdy and no-nonsense, though it may have had a more delicate appearance originally. However, I opted to draw this complete set, as it gives a better idea of the game and also shows the narrative aspect of the game and the physical journey that players go on. It seems to have been a race game of sorts, played with the hounds and jackals stick pieces (each player had five) which moved around the board at the throw of dice or other randomising devices.

It was found in Thebes by Howard Carter in 1910, though Flinders Petrie had come across an example of this type of boardgame twenty years before and had named it the Game of 58 Holes – this is still used as another name for it.   

Gameboards were often deposited in Egyptian tombs, suggesting that they were not just pastimes, but also may have been thought to benefit the deceased in some way in their journey to the underworld. We touched on this when looking at knucklebones and, especially, the game of Senet (see here). In the game of Hounds and Jackals, the large hole at one end of the board represents the ‘shen’ sign (like the amulet found in Reniseneb’s mummy wrappings) which was a loop of rope symbolising eternal protection. There are two holes on either side of the board marked with the sign ‘nefer’, which means ‘good’. The Met Museum features a blog entry which mentions that the game may have been similar to Chutes and Ladders / Snakes and Ladders.

According to information on the Metropolitan Museum and the British Museum websites, it is thought that the game originated in Egypt, where it first appeared before 2000 BC, and seems to have been popular there during the Middle Kingdom (ca. 2030-1650 B.C.). Egyptian trade relations and military campaigns during this period led to the game spreading to the Ancient Near East, where it was popular throughout the second and first millennia BC. Evidence points to it being played at all levels of society.  

It is interesting to see how the markings on the wooden one – which is possibly the earliest surviving example of the game – match the markings on the ivory one in this portrait, with curved lines linking specific holes. It makes it look a little like a half of a sawn-off violin.

Egyptian board games would often have animal legs – this particular one has bull’s legs, a couple of which have been restored. The British Museum has a lonely looking leg that looks almost identical to these, and I also came across a very early animal leg made of ivory (3100-2900 BC) at the Met Museum that could have been part of a game board.

It was interesting to go beyond Egypt and see what the boards from the Ancient Near East look like. I was delighted to see that the collection of objects found in the Temple of Inshushinak in Susa (modern-day Iran) which included the lovely hedgehog on wheels, also included a fragment of a boardgame that has been identified as “The game of 58 holes” (date: 1500-1200 BC).

There are many other examples from modern-day Iran, Iraq or Turkey – see for instance this marble board from Assyria with a cuneiform inscription stating it belonged to king Esarhaddon (7th C BC) or this curious little undated one, most likely from Eastern Iran, measuring less than 10 cm in length and weighing 159 grams.

The Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago has an ornate gold and ivory example from Megiddo, Israel, dating from the 1200 to 1100 BC.

I think what really stands out for me is that this gameboard is set out like a story, with beautifully crafted hounds and jackals, and a lovely palm tree in the middle – the holes set out like a maze that players have to get through before they reach the end. I like the physicality of the journey, in which you don’t just move a game piece on a flat surface, but rather you have to take the long pieces and insert them into each hole. It looks incredibly inviting as a game and feels as though it was made by someone who was very familiar with the rules and who took pride and pleasure in making a very special set.

But my favourite detail, as with the earlier wooden one, is the fact that it has legs of its own, like a little playful creature whose sole purpose is to entertain.