OF THE CAPTURE OF BELUR, THE HITTITE
The city of Kadesh lay gleaming in the evening sunlight at the upper end
of that vast plain which stretched northward to the Lake Country. As
viewed from Shabtuna, where the Egyptian army was now encamped, it seemed
a veritable city of towers.
Along the eastern front of this Asiatic city the waters of the Orontes
glittered like a straight Hittite sword. The high, machicolated
gate-towers, on the eastern side, were approached by a causeway and a
broad flight of stone steps. Protected by a white wall on either side,
these steps rose from the very waters of the turgid Orontes itself.
The city towers were black with people, frenzied women for the most part.
Their piercing shrieks, now of exultation, now of despair, floated out
upon the flashing waters of the broad river. The sounds reached the ears
of Ramses, the Egyptian general, where he stood.
Along the city walls youths and old men peered anxiously southward,
across the level plain. Men, women and children stood with faces glued to
the openings which capped the city walls.
The eyes of the people of Kadesh were riveted upon the ebb and flow of
a gigantic conflict, which had raged throughout the day back and forth
across the broad reaches of the plain below.
The mighty hosts of the Hittites, led by Rimur of Charchemish in person,
had struggled since daybreak with the forces of Egypt.
The battle had opened auspiciously for the Hittites, though the ninth
of Khoiak was a favorable day alike to Egyptian and Hittite. To the
Egyptians it meant that the very gods would lend their aid in the
conflict, for was not this the day in which the god Thoth gained his
memorable victory over Set!
Yet, so far, matters had gone badly for the Egyptians. The Division
of Sutekh, led by old Noferhotep, had been surprised at the ford near
Shabtuna, and cut to pieces. Noferhotep himself had been drowned in the
blood-red waters and his body had not been recovered.
Alas, O Noferhotep, the harpers will not sing before thy silent form;
“the feathered dancers” will not join thy funeral dance!
It appeared that the spies sent out by the Egyptians had been deceived as
to the numerical superiority of the Hittite host. An unknown force of the
enemy had been enabled to steal up on Noferhotep’s infantry as it crossed
the ford.
A few wounded stragglers from this unequal action had managed to reach
the main Egyptian camp, where their distorted accounts of the recent
disaster well-nigh caused a panic. However, at this juncture the arrival
of Yankhamu with a division of Ethiopian troops, had put new heart into
the Egyptian host.
Thus, then, it had been since daybreak. The tide of battle had leaned now
toward the Hittite, now toward Egypt.
The main affray had resolved itself into a frontal attack, which extended
right across the plain to the very foothills.
The Egyptian chariots had endeavored to cut around the right flank of the
enemy, hoping to drive them into a swamp which lay to the south-west.
Across the broad plains serried ranks of infantry pressed to the attack.
The reserves of both armies were now brought into action. Thus commenced
the final stage of the conflict, a last desperate onslaught which should,
once and for all, decide the fate of one of the two opposing armies.
The non-combatants high upon the battlemented walls of Kadesh broke into
Wild shouts of triumph, as the right wing of the Egyptian army was seen
to bend, to break and, finally, to rush, in wildest disorder, towards a
slight curve in the Orontes river eastward. A mass of the howling sons of
Kheta pressed hard upon its heels.
The people of the city could contain themselves no longer. For them
the battle was as good as won. The youths flew down to the great gates
which opened as if by magic, and in another moment hot-footed youth,
halting old-age, women and little children could be seen spreading in a
fan-shaped wave across the dusty expanse which separated the contending
forces from the city walls.
Suddenly, from behind a low ridge to the westward, there appeared a long
line of two-horse chariots. In the center, easily recognized by his
bright red leather doublet and gilded warbonnet, stood the young Egyptian
general, Ramses. A huge Ethiopian _katana_, leaning well out over the
leather body of the chariot, urged on Ramses’ horses by word of mouth and
lash of whip. At the right of the chariot bounded a lean Nubian panther.
The onrushing chariots aligned themselves upon that of their young and
impetuous leader. With ever quickening pace the long line swept across
the well-nigh deserted right flank, turned, and hurled a devastating
avalanche of arrows into the wavering center of the enemy’s line.
Without pausing an instant the gleaming line crashed into the very heart
of the Hittite army. Thereafter Charchemish, Kadesh, Megiddo, On, Thebes
and Napata, were mingled in an indescribable whirl of choking yellow
dust, rearing and screaming horses, yelling and cursing men, and flashing
weapons.
The right flank of the Egyptian army, which had feinted at retreat, now
turned upon its pursuers. Many they hurled into the river; many they
slew out of hand. The majority, panic-stricken, took to flight in the
direction of the city.
Scenting disaster, Rimur, King of Charchemish, fled headlong from the
stricken field. The King of Kadesh hurled his wounded companion, Belur
the Hittite, from his chariot, and urged his tired horses toward the
southern gate.
Seeing their King take to flight, the forces of Kadesh broke. One and all
followed their royal master as fast as chariot, horse or limbs could
carry them.
In a moment the fleeing soldiers had burst into the densely-massed body
composed of their distracted wives, mothers, grandsires and wailing
children. These likewise attempted now to turn and again to seek shelter
within the city walls.
There ensued a state of indescribable confusion in which terror reigned
supreme. And this state of utter panic was not confined to those
unfortunates upon the plain, but communicated itself to the few people
who still remained within the city. Fearing the fury of the Egyptian
soldiers, these now shut and barred the ponderous city gates.
There followed such a slaughter of the miserable sons of Kheta as had not
been witnessed in the Orontes Valley since the day Great Thothmes had
first taken Kadesh by assault.
Fifteen full days was Pahura the Scribe occupied in listing the spoils of
gilded chariots, jeweled breast-plates, gold and silver temple-vessels,
and the treasure of Belil, King of Kadesh.
As to Belil himself, his obese form was ignominiously pierced by an
arrow, as he dangled at the end of a rope half-way up the city walls.
Once the Ethiopian division had burst in the city gate, those who had
attempted to save their King, and others who had been driven to the
battlements surrounding the palace, were hurled over its parapet and met
their death either upon the flagging of the court or in the waters of the
moat which surround it.
Rimur, King of Charchemish, fled night and day by means of relays. Not
a night did he rest until he found himself once again behind the giant
walls of his capital.
Belur, his brother, badly wounded on the field, was brought, a pale and
sullen captive, to the chariot of the victorious Ramses. At the present
plight of the once haughty ambassador to Egypt Ramses allowed the
faintest indication of a sneer to break the stony indifference of his
glance.
Following his commands the Prince of Kheta was led away that his wounds
might be attended to. Belur was reserved for a fate far worse than
death. Indeed, death would come as a welcome relief to the indignities
and tortures that would presently be meted out to him. He was destined
to swing from the prow of Ramses’ galley head down, where he would be
lightly fed, yet, were it possible, not allowed to die, until Pharaoh
himself should despatch him.
According to custom, a captive chief must be presented to the great god
Amen of Thebes. Established precedent required that he be killed before
the temple portals of the god himself. Whether Aton would scorn such a
blood-thirsty offering, Ramses did not pause to think.
The irruption of the victorious Egyptian army into Kadesh was followed
by wholesale loot, division of the women among the soldiery, riotous
drunkenness, child-murder and the apportioning of the manhood of
the vanquished among the temples of Egypt. There followed the utter
obliteration of the conquered city in a holocaust of fire.
Within twenty days from the time Pahura had commenced to list the first
golden ewer, the once famous city of Kadesh with its gilded towers and
blue-glazed walls, its palace ablaze with lazuli, silver and ivory, and
the great temple to the Sun-god, a veritable treasure-house of richly
colored tiles and bricks, gold, turquoise, silver, ebony, Lebanus
cedar and sweet-smelling woods from the Incense Country, lay a mass
of smouldering ruins, encircled during the day by a veritable ring of
vultures, throughout the night by droves of snarling and quarreling
hyenas.
But, by this time, the victorious host of Egypt was well on its way
up the straight highroad to the frontier, where it was hailed by the
acclaiming vanguard of the overjoyed Egyptian populace.
At the first Egyptian city, Suan-of-the-North, it was rumored that the
aged Magician Enana, Ramses’ grandsire, together with two unknown and
mysterious personages, had been seen to enter Ramses’ tent. Thereafter
they accompanied him.