from the temple roof and flapped their black pinions above the chair of Pharaoh. And the people cried, “Away with you, false Pharaoh! Begone!”
The shout alarmed the bearers so that the chair halted in its course. When they again moved forward, goaded by the nervous officers of the guard, the people poured in an irresistible flood across the Avenue of Rams, swept away the chain of soldiers, and threw themselves pellmell before the chair to block its advance.
It was no longer possible to follow exactly what was happening. The soldiers began to belabor the people with their cudgels to clear the way, but soon they had recourse to spears and daggers in their own defense. Sticks and stones sang through the air, blood flowed across the street, and above the roar rose the screams of the dying. But not one stone was cast at Pharaoh, for he was born of the sun like all other Pharaohs before him. His person was sacred, and no one in the crowd would have dared even in his dreams to lift a hand against him, though in their hearts all hated him. I do not believe that even the priests would have done so unheard of a thing. Pharaoh looked on unmolested. Then he arose, forgetting his dignity, and called out to halt the soldiers, but no one heard his cry in all the din.
The mob stoned the guards, and the guards defended themselves and slew many of the people, who cried out unceasingly, “Ammon! Ammon! Give us back Ammon!” and also, “Away with you, false Pharaoh! Begone! Thebes will have none of you!” Stones were cast on those of high rank, and the people surged threateningly about the reserved enclosures, so that women threw away their flowers, dropped their phials of perfume, and fled.
At Horemheb’s command the horns were sounded. From courts and sidestreets came the chariots that he had disposed there out of sight lest the people be provoked. Many were crushed beneath the hoofs and wheels, but Horemheb had ordered the removal of the scythes from the sides of the chariots to prevent unnecessary bloodshed. They drove slowly and in a prearranged order, encircling Pharaoh’s chair and also protecting the royal family and others in the procession, and so escorting them away. But the crowds would not disperse until the royal barges were seen rowing back across the river. Then they broke out in jubilation, and their rejoicing was yet more terrible than their anger. The ruffians among the crowd besieged the houses of the rich until the soldiers restored order and the people dispersed to their homes. Evening drew on and the crows circled down to tear at the bodies that remained lying in the Avenue of Rams.
Thus Pharaoh Akhnaton was confronted for the first time by his raging people and saw blood flowing on his god’s account. He never forgot this sight. Hatred dropped poison into his love, and his fanaticism grew until at last he decreed that everyone who spoke the name 0f Ammon aloud or held his name concealed on images or vessels should be sent to the mines.
I speak of these events before coming to the time in which they took place, to make plain their cause. That same evening I was summoned hastily to the golden house, for Pharaoh had had an attack of his sickness. His physicians feared for his life and sought to share the burden of responsibility, for he had spoken of me. He lay long like one dead; his limbs grew cold, and his pulse was no longer to be detected. After a period of delirium during which he bit his tongue and lips until the blood flowed, he came to himself. He then dismissed all the other physicians, for he could not endure the sight of them.
“Summon the boatmen,” he said to me, “and hoist red sails on my ship. Let my friends come with me, for I am going upon a journey and will let my vision lead me until I find a land belonging neither to gods nor to men. This land I will dedicate to Aton and build there a city that shall be the city of Aton. I will never again return to Thebes.”
He said also, “The conduct of the Thebans is more hateful to me than all that has gone before-more loathsome, more contemptible than anything my forebears ever saw, even among foreigners. Therefore I spurn Thebes and leave it to its own darkness.”
So intense was his agitation that he demanded to be carried to his ship while yet ailing, nor could I as his physician prevent him.
Horemheb said, “It is better so. The people of Thebes will have their way, and Akhnaton will have his; both will be satisfied, and there will be peace in the land once more.”
I attended Pharaoh on his voyage down the river. He was too impatient to wait even for the royal family but set sail first. Horemheb ordered an escort of warships to accompany the vessel that he might come to no harm.
So beneath her red sails Pharaoh’s ship glided down the river, and Thebes fell behind. Walls, temple roofs, and the gilded tips of the obelisks sank below the horizon, and lastly the three peaks, the eternal guardians of Thebes, vanished also. But the memory of Thebes remained with us for many days, for the river was full of fat crocodiles whose tails splashed up the foul waters, and a hundred times a hundred swollen corpses drifted with the current. There was no shoal or clump of reeds without its body, held fast by clothes or hair, and all because of Pharaoh Akhnaton’s god. But he knew nothing of this, for he lay in his cabin on soft mats, where servants anointed him with perfumed oils and burned incense about him, that he might not smell the smell of his god.
When we had been sailing for ten days, the river was pure again, and Pharaoh stepped into the bows to look about him. The earth was summer yellow; farmers were gathering in their harvest, and in the evenings the cattle were driven down to the water’s edge to drink, and herdsmen blew on their double pipes. When the people saw Pharaoh’s ship, they arrayed themselves in white and ran down to the shore, where they shouted their greetings and waved their branches of palm. The sight of these contented people was better than any medicine to Pharaoh. Now and then he would give orders for the ship to put in to the bank, and he would go ashore to talk to the people, to touch them, and to bless the women and children with his hands. The sheep also came shyly up, to nuzzle and nibble at the hem of his robe, and he laughed for joy.
In the darkness of night he stood in the bows gazing at the burning stars, and he said to me, “I will divide all the land of the false god among those who are content with little and have labored with their hands, that they may be happy and bless the name of Aton. I will divide all the land among them, for my heart rejoices at the sight of plump children and laughing women and men who labor in the name of Aton without fear or hatred of any.”
He said also, “The heart of man is dark; I should not have believed this had I not seen it for myself. For so lucent is my own clarity that I do not comprehend the darkness, and when light pours into my heart, I forget all the hearts that are twisted and shadowy. There must be many who do not comprehend Aton, though they see him and feel his love, for they have lived their lives in darkness, and their eyes do not know the light when they see it. They call it evil and say that it hurts their eyes. Therefore I leave them alone and do not trouble them, but I will not dwell among them. I gather about me those who are dearest to me and will remain among them, never to leave them, that I may not suffer those evil pains in my head through seeing things that oppress my spirit and are hideous in the sight of A ton.”
Screwing up his eyes at the stars, he went on, “Night is abomination to me. I do not love the darkness; I fear it. I do not love the stars, for when they shine, jackals slink from their dens, lions leave their lairs and roar with blood lust. Thebes is night to me, and so I spurn it-in truth I spurn all that is old and crooked and put my faith in the young and in children. The spring of the world is born of them. Those who from childhood dedicate themselves to the teaching of Aton are purified, and so the whole world shall be purified. Schools shall be transformed, the old teachers driven forth, and new texts written for children to copy. Moreover I will make writing simpler than it now is, for we need no pictures to understand it; I shall cause a script to be adopted that even the humblest may quickly learn. There shall no longer be a gulf between scribes and people; the people shall learn to write so that in every village-even the smallest-there shall be one to read what I shall write to them. For I shall write to them often, of many things that they should know.”
Pharaoh’s talk disturbed me. I knew this new script that was easy to learn and to read; it was not sacred writing, nor was it as beautiful or as rich in content as the old, and every self-respecting scribe despised it.
Therefore I said, “Popular script is ugly and barbarous, and it is not sacred writing. What will become of Egypt if everyone is made literate? Such a thing has never been. No one will then be content to labor with his hands; the soil will lie unfilled, and people will take no pleasure in their ability to write when they are starving.”
I should not have said this, for he cried out in high indignation, “So near to me then is the darkness! It stands beside me in you, Sinuhe. You cast doubts and obstacles in my path-but truth burns like fire within me. My eyes pierce all barriers as if they were barriers of pure water, and I behold the world that will come after me. In that world is neither hatred nor fear; men share their toil with one another and there are neither rich nor poor among them-all are equal-all can read what I write to them. No man says to another ‘dirty Syrian’ or ‘miserable Negro’. All are brothers, and war is banished from the world. And seeing this, I feel my strength increase; so great is my joy
