The Pharaohs and Their People: Scenes of old Egyptian life and history

by E. Berkley

There was therefore no cause for anxiety concerning the south, and the eyes of the young sovereign turned eagerly to the regions where his father had made his rapid campaign, and acquired military renown and abundant spoil. The policy of ‘extending the frontiers of Egypt’ was no doubt partly dictated by the desire of rendering the country safe from any further invasion, by subduing the neighbouring lands; but it is certain that the vision of establishing an Egyptian empire fascinated the imagination of Thothmes iii., and he was able to realise the dream.

The course of Egyptian history had flowed on century after century, for 2000 or 3000 years, in a sort of majestic solitude, like its own mighty river, which for 1800 miles of its course receives no tributary stream. The people might be said to have ‘dwelt alone.’ The position of the land was isolated and secluded, its people had an innate dislike of the sea, and possessed no sea-going ships; they were perfectly content within the bounds of their own luxuriant domains, and knew and cared very little about the world that lay beyond. The frontiers were well guarded and no foe had crossed them, nor had any vision of conquest or wide-spread empire arisen to dazzle the imagination of the early kings.

The coming of the Hyksos had wrought a great change, and had broken down the barriers of isolation. And the mighty wave of national energy, which, gathering strength as it rose, swept away the foe, did not thus spend all its force. A longing arose for retribution, conquest, empire; the avenging campaign of Thothmes i. had stimulated rather than satisfied a national craving for glory and for wealth. The Pharaohs now emerge from the seclusion of the valley of the Nile, and enter that blood-stained arena—the battle-field of the nations—the Syrian and Mesopotamian lands. But the brilliant successes and far-reaching supremacy of the Egyptian arms ended at last in disaster and decline, from which there was no power of recovery.

Far enough, however, were any such gloomy forebodings from the thoughts of King Thothmes iii., when he mounted his war-chariot and assembled his troops upon the field of Zoan. The tributes promised to his father by the conquered princes had for a long time ceased to be paid. They knew that a female sovereign held the sceptre, and the tribes that had acknowledged the father’s supremacy cast off all fealty to the daughter. The town of Gaza alone had remained faithful to the Egyptian allegiance. Here Thothmes took up his quarters for the night on the twenty-third anniversary of his accession (dating i.e. from his brother’s death). Next morning he left the city, ‘full of power and strength, to conquer the miserable enemy, and to extend the frontiers of Egypt, as his father Amen-Ra had promised him.’

The country known to us as Palestine or Syria was then, as at a later date, divided into several petty kingdoms, each with a fortified capital of its own. The general name by which its inhabitants were known to the Egyptians was that of the Rutennu, and at this moment their various tribes were allied against Egypt under the leadership of the King of Kadesh, and, encamped within and around Megiddo, they were waiting the attack of King Thothmes.

There was a choice of roads before the invading host. One broad highway led along the Mediterranean coast, keeping the sea in sight, until it turned in an easterly direction, and opened out finally upon the wide plain of Kadesh. Another way led along the banks of the Jordan, but it was a dangerous route, often very narrow and amongst thickets, where a foe might easily lurk unseen. After leaving the Jordan it went through the narrow valley of the Orontes until it also reached the capital of the King of Kadesh. Thothmes addressed his army, and told them of the information he had just received concerning the position of the enemy, who had said, ‘I will withstand the King of Egypt at Megiddo.’ ‘And now,’ said the king, ‘tell me the way by which we shall go to break into the city.’ The army with one accord entreated to be led by any way but that which wound along by the Jordan. ‘It has been told us,’ they said, ‘that the foe lies there in ambush, and the way is impassable for a great host; one horse cannot stand there beside another, nor can one man find room by another. The army would be blocked, and be helpless before the enemy. There is a broad way that starts from Aluna, and it offers no opportunity for an attack. Whithersoever our victorious leader goes we will follow him, only we pray that he will not take us by the impassable way.’ Thothmes decided on the broad road, and made the soldiers take an oath that they would not go on in advance of the king with any idea of protecting his person, but would let him take the place of danger at their head. Dismounting from his chariot, he advanced on foot in the forefront of the army. ‘He went forward,’ says the story; ‘his divine father Amen-Ra was before him, and Horus-Hormakhu was at his side.’

In a few days the camp was pitched opposite Megiddo. ‘Keep yourselves ready,’ said the king, ‘look to your arms, for we shall meet the enemy in battle early to-morrow morning.’ And they set the watch, saying, ‘Be of good courage; watch, watch—watch over the life in the king’s tent.’ Next morning the assault was made, but the Canaanites were unable to make a stand against the disciplined valour of the Egyptian troops; they fled at the first onset ‘with terror on their faces.’ The dead ‘lay on the ground like fishes,’ and the fugitives in their haste left behind them their horses and their chariots of gold and silver, and ‘were drawn up by their clothes as by ropes into the fortress.’ The king’s own tent was captured on the field, amidst shouts of joy and of thanks to Amen-Ra. Megiddo itself was taken, and the victor entrenched himself there to await the submission and the tribute of the confederated princes. Then the chiefs of the land came to do homage to the king, and, though the civilisation of the Canaanitish tribes may not have been high, yet there was no lack, at any rate, of a certain splendour at their kings’ courts. They were graciously received by the young conqueror, and laid rich gifts at his feet, gold, silver, and lapis lazuli—wheat, wine, and wool,—besides many suits of brazen armour and chariots plated with gold.

The capture of Megiddo opened the way to the more distant field of Mesopotamia. In former ages that country had been the seat of civilised and highly cultivated states,[35] but these kingdoms had fallen, probably before some foreign conquerors, about the time that the twelfth dynasty was ruling in Egypt. About the period of the Hyksos supremacy there seems to have been an empire established at Babylon which included Assyria as a province; but this again had passed away, and the country was broken up into a number of petty principalities, which it was no hard task for Thothmes to subdue and reduce to some sort of vassalage. Among the Asiatic princes who brought him tribute are named those of Assur and of Babilu.

The supremacy of the Egyptian crown may thus be said to have been acknowledged in some sort over the ‘known world;’ for the Egyptian horizon did not extend beyond the Mediterranean Sea, the Euphrates, and the range of Mount Taurus in Armenia. ‘I have placed the boundaries of Egypt at the horizon,’ said Thothmes iii., ‘and I have set Egypt at the head of all nations, because its people are united with me in the worship of Amen.’

These Asiatic campaigns were often renewed during this long reign; thirteen or fourteen such are recorded. Each was followed by a longer or shorter interval of peace. The principal episodes of the wars were sculptured in bas-relief upon the walls of the great temple at Karnak, where also was inscribed a careful geographical enumeration of the conquered peoples, and a record of the tributes they respectively paid. Full accounts were also preserved in the libraries attached to the temples; but the Egyptian archives have perished, and Egyptian history with them, except so far as it was carved on the enduring stone, or written in the few papyri that have survived the general wreck.