have been rapidly annihilated by the fresh and seasoned forces of the adversary.
Nevertheless, this defeat caused profound consternation in Syria. Many cities rose in revolt against Aziru and closed their gates against him, weary of his ambition and of the rapacity of the Hittites. They hoped thus to win Egypt’s favor and a share in speedy conquest. The cities of Syria have ever been at odds with one another, and Horemheb’s spies fanned their discontent, spreading exaggerated and alarming reports of the great desert defeat.
While Horemheb rested his troops among those victorious hills, while he conferred with his spies and laid fresh plans, he continued to send his message to the beleaguered city: “Hold Gaza!” He knew that it could not hold out much longer, yet to win back Syria he must have a base on the coast. He set rumors about among his men of that country’s wealth and of the priestesses in the temple of Ishtar, who with consummate arts give pleasure to the valiant. I did not know why he lingered, until one night a starving, thirst-tormented man crept through the barricades, surrendered himself as a prisoner and begged to be brought before Horemheb. The soldiers mocked him for his impudence, but Horemheb received the man, who bowed low before him, stretching forth his hands at knee level, despite his Syrian dress. He then laid a hand over one of his eyes as if in pain.
Horemheb said, “Why surely no dung beetle has stung you in the eye?”
I chanced to be in his tent when this was said and regarded it as idle chatter since the dung beetle is a harmless insect and hurts no one.
But the thirsty man said, “Truly a dung beetle has stung me in the eye, for in Syria there are ten times ten of them, all exceedingly venomous.”
Horemheb said, “I greet you, valiant man. Speak freely, for this physician here in my tent is simple and understands nothing.”
At this the spy said, “My lord Horemheb, the hay has come!”
He uttered no more than this, but I took him for one of Horemheb’s spies. Horemheb left the tent immediately and gave orders for a beacon to be lit upon the hilltop. Soon afterward a chain of answering fires winked across the hills as far as the Lower Kingdom. In this manner he sent word to Tanis for the fleet to put to sea and engage the Syrian vessels off Gaza, should conflict prove unavoidable.
Next morning the horns rang out, and the army marched away across the desert to Syria. The chariots drove on ahead as an advance guard, to clear the route of enemies and to choose camping places for the troops. Yet how Horemheb dared give battle to the Hittites in open country was more than I could understand. The men followed him gladly, however, dreaming of the wealth of Syria, which was theirs for the winning. I stepped into my carrying chair and followed them, and we left behind us the hills of victory, where the bones of Hittites and Egyptians lay peaceably together, to whiten in the sand of the barricaded valley.
2
I come now to the war in Syria, although I have little to say of it, being unskilled in military matters. All battles look alike to me-all burning cities and plundered houses, all wailing women and mutilated bodies, wherever I may encounter them. My report would be monotonous indeed were I to speak of all I saw. The war in Syria lasted three years, a cruel, merciless war in which great numbers perished. Villages were laid waste, gardens were ravished of their fruit trees, and cities deserted.
But I must speak first of the guile of Horemheb. He led his troops fearlessly into Syria, removing the boundary stones erected by Aziru and allowing his men to plunder the villages and enjoy the women as a foretaste of the fruits of conquest. He marched straight on Gaza, and no sooner had the Hittites grasped his purpose than they mustered their forces on the plain near the city to cut him off and destroy him, this ground being well-suited to chariot warfare. They were confident of success.
But winter was already so far advanced that they had now to feed their horses on forage bought of Syrian traders. Before ever this battle began, the horses fell sick and staggered in the traces; their droppings were green and watery, and many of the animals died. Thus Horemheb could engage the enemy upon an equal footing, and having once beaten off the chariots, he routed the demoralized foot soldiers with ease. Javelin throwers and bowmen swiftly completed the work begun by the chariots. The Hittites sustained a worse defeat than ever before and left as many dead upon that field as did the Egyptians. It was known thereafter as the Field of Bones. As soon as Horemheb entered their encampment he set fire to their stocks of forage until all was burned. This forage had mixed with it certain poisonous herbs that caused the Hittite horses to sicken, although I did not then know in what manner Horemheb had contrived this.
Thus Horemheb reached Gaza, while Hittites and Syrians in the whole of the south took refuge in fortified cities, and he scattered the besiegers. Meanwhile, the Egyptian fleet sailed into Gaza harbor, much battered and disabled; many vessels were still burning after an indecisive battle that had raged for two days offshore. They brought provisions and reinforcements for Gaza and carried home to Egypt our wounded and disabled men.
The day that saw the opening of the gates of Gaza the impregnable to admit Horemheb’s troops is still celebrated throughout Egypt as a day of festival. This winter day is the Day of Sekhmet when small boys with wooden clubs and reed spears re-enact the siege of Gaza. No city was ever more valiantly defended, and its commander well deserved the praise and acclamation he received. I shall give his name despite the indignity he offered me in having me hoisted up the walls in a basket. His name was Roju.
He was called by his own men Bull-Neck, which well describes his appearance and his nature, for a more dogged and suspicious man I never met. After the victory the horns of Horemheb blew all day long in vain before Roju would believe that it was safe to open the gates. Even then he would admit Horemheb only, to satisfy himself that the man was what he appeared to be and not a Syrian disguised.
Aziru’s siege had been but child’s play compared with the Hittites’ ruthless and persistent attack. Day and night these had hurled in burning brands, and when we arrived, there were but few survivors among the inhabitants. A few women and old men crept out to us from beneath the gutted houses, shadowlike in their horrible emaciation. All the children had perished and the men had toiled and worn themselves to death under Roju’s whip, repairing the breaches in the walls. The survivors showed no joy at the sight of Egypt’s army marching through the battered gateway. The women shook their bony fists, and the old men cursed us. Horemheb distributed grain and beer among them, and many died that night in agony. It was the first time for months that they had eaten their fill, and their starved stomachs were unequal to the meal.
If I could I would portray Gaza as I saw it on that day of victory. I would describe the dried human skins hanging from the walls and the blackened skulls pecked at by birds of prey. I would speak of the charred ruins and of the sooty bones of animals lying in rubble-blocked alleys. I would reproduce if I might the hideous stench of that beleaguered city-a stench of pestilence and death that made Horemheb’s men hold their noses. All this would I describe, to give some notion of that great hour of victory and to make plain why it was that I could not heartily rejoice on this long-dreamed-of, long-awaited day.
On every surviving soldier of the Gaza garrison Horemheb bestowed a golden chain; it cost him little, for less than two hundred fit men were left. It was a marvel that they had held on. But to Roju Bull-Neck Horemheb gave a chain of green precious stones set in gold and enamel, also a golden whip, and he made his men cheer Roju so that the walls trembled at the sound. All cheered in deep and heartfelt admiration for the man who had held Gaza.
When the shout had died away, Roju fingered his chain suspiciously and said, “Do you take me for a horse, Horemheb, that you adorn me with golden harness? And is this whip braided with pure gold or with alloyed Syrian gold?”
He said also, “Take your men out of the city, for their numbers distract me. I cannot sleep in my tower at night for their noise, although I slept soundly enough when battering rams were thundering at the gates and fires crackled on every side. Take your men hence, for in Gaza I am Pharaoh, and I will order my men to attack yours and slay them unless they cease their din and let me sleep.”
And indeed it proved that Roju Bull-Neck could get no sleep now that the siege was over. Not even drugs or wine could give it to him. He lay brooding on his bed, striving to recall in what manner the stores had been consumed.
One day he very humbly approached Horemheb and said to him, “You are my lord and greater than I. Punish me, therefore, for I am accountable to Pharaoh for all the things he entrusted me with-and what shall I do? All my
