Part 3

When he wrote thus the feelings expressed were probably genuine, for times had changed sadly for him and men of his type.

We have now come to the accession of the reforming king Napkhuria—i.e., Akhenaten. This zealot succeeded in bringing into the foreign relations of Egypt some of the unrest caused by his measures in home politics. To begin with, he sought for new political alliances and sacrificed those already existing, not by breaking off the connections, but by turning a deaf ear to requests, or by adopting an insolent tone in his answers. On one occasion he showered on the old beggar Tushratta derision which was no doubt well deserved, but which it was most impolitic to express so plainly. He gives one the impression of an inexperienced prince, brought up in Oriental seclusion, who persists at all hazards in playing the part of a shrewd and worldly-wise ruler. He strained after novelty at the expense of his own security, and attempted to demonstrate the strength of the supports of his throne by sawing them through.

About the time of Nimmuria’s death Kadashman-Bel of Babylonia also died, and Burnaburiash, probably his brother or cousin, was prepared on his accession to maintain the traditional friendship with Egypt. But at the very beginning Napkhuria was guilty of a breach of etiquette in neglecting to send any expression of sympathy during a long illness of Burnaburiash. In spite of many fine words, the usual matrimonial negotiations did not run smoothly; moreover, attacks were made on travelling messengers, and at length Napkhuria’s avarice forced the Babylonian to measures of retaliation, and he writes:

“Since ambassadors from thy fathers came to my fathers, they also have lived on friendly terms. We should continue in the same. Messengers have now come from thee thrice, but thou hast sent with them no gift worthy the name. I also shall desist in the same way. If nothing is denied me I shall deny thee nothing.”

Meanwhile, the dear brother in Egypt was continually finding opportunities to annoy the Babylonian. Assyria was then a small state on the middle Tigris, in exactly the same relation to the suzerainty of Babylonia as Canaan was to that of Egypt. Disregarding this fact, Napkhuria sent a very large quantity of gold to the prince Assurnadinakhi and ostentatiously received an Assyrian embassy. Burnaburiash, in remonstrating, referred to the loyal conduct of his father, Kurigalzu, who had answered the Canaanites with threats when, in an attempted rising against Nimmuria, they offered to do homage to Kurigalzu.

“Now there are the Assyrians, my vassals. Have not I already written to thee in regard to them? If thou lovest me they will gain nothing from thee. Let them depart unsuccessful.”

This exhortation seems to have been vain, for a letter of the next Assyrian king, Assuruballit, speaks of a regular exchange of messengers, and indicates that the Sutu of the desert—doubtless at the instigation of the Babylonians—were about to kill every Egyptian who showed himself in their territory.

A prince of Alashia, who never mentions either his own name or that of the Egyptian king, wrote short letters, for the most part of a business character. Alashia probably lay on the Cilician coast. Gold did not tempt him; he asked modestly for silver in return for copper, for oil, textiles and manufactured articles in return for wood for building. Thus the tablets from Alashia are rich in information regarding commercial matters and questions of public rights. They are of special interest for us, owing to the fact that one of them contains the first historic mention of the plague.

“Behold! my brother, I have sent thee five hundred talents of copper as a gift. Let it not grieve my brother’s heart that it is too little. For in my land the hand of Nergal (the god of pestilence) has slain all the workers, and copper cannot be produced. And, my brother, take it not to heart that thy messenger stayed three years in my land. For the hand of Nergal is in it, and in my house my young wife died.”

Yet this ruler also had to guard himself against embassies unworthy of a king sent by Napkhuria. Another prince, in a letter unfortunately much damaged, made the complaint that Napkhuria had once caused his own name to be written first in a letter. This was, indeed, unparalleled; the title of the recipient stands first even in a severe reprimand sent to the Egyptian vassal Aziru. As if to equalise matters, in royal letters the greetings that follow the address begin with a mention of the welfare of the writer. “It is well with me. May it be well with thee,” &c. There is, however, one tablet addressed to Napkhuria that committed the offence complained of, and it was perhaps for this reason that the introductory address was scratched through anciently. It is fairly certain that this letter, as well as the one complaining of Napkhuria’s breach of etiquette, came from the Hittite king. The tone throughout is very decided, and complaints of neglect of proper consideration are not wanting.

A short time before his death Nimmuria had married another daughter of Tushratta, Tadukhipa, the long inventory of whose dowry was found at Tell el Amarna. On receiving the news—for which he was already prepared—of the death of his hoary-headed son-in-law, Tushratta at once sent Pirizzi and Bubri “with lamentations” to Napkhuria. He managed to suppress his personal wishes up to the third message, but prepared the way for them by calling Teye, the chief wife of Nimmuria, as a witness. “And all the matters that I negotiated with thy father, Teye, thy mother, knoweth them; none other besides knoweth of them.” Immediately after this came the request that Napkhuria should send him the “golden images” (statuettes) that Nimmuria had promised him. And Napkhuria wasted no words, but sent by the messenger Hamashi—the wooden models! He seems to have thought he was acting as a good son and a shrewd man of business in fulfilling his father’s promises at so cheap a rate.

But Tushratta was not easily shaken off. His next move was to send Teye and her son each a letter at the same time. He gave polite greetings from his wife Yuni to the widow, whose influence was evidently still strong, sent her presents, and entreated her intercession. This remarkable letter runs as follows:

“To Teye, Queen of Egypt, Tushratta, King of Mitani. May it be well with thee, may it be well with thy son, may it be well with Tadukhipa, my daughter, thy young companion in widowhood. Thou knowest that I was in friendship with Nimmuria, thy husband, and that Nimmuria was in friendship with me. What I wrote to him and negotiated with him, and likewise what Nimmuria thy husband wrote to me and negotiated with me, thou and Gilia and Mani (Tushratta’s messengers), ye know it. But thou knowest it better than all others. And none other knows it. Now thou hast said to Gilia: ‘Say to thy lord, Nimmuria my husband was in friendship with thy father and sent him the military standards, which he kept. The embassies between them were never interrupted. But now, forget not thou thine old friendship with thy brother Nimmuria and extend it to his son Napkhuria. Send joyful embassies; let them not be omitted.’ Lo, I will not forget the friendship with Nimmuria! More, tenfold more, words of friendship will I exchange with Napkhuria thy son and keep up right good friendship. But the promise of Nimmuria, the gift that thy husband ordered to be brought to me, thou hast not sent. I asked for golden statuettes. But now Napkhuria thy son has had them made of wood, though gold is as dust in thy land. Why does this happen just now? Should not Napkhuria deliver that to me which his father gave me? And he wishes to increase our friendship tenfold! Wherefore then dost thou not bring this matter before thy son Napkhuria? Even though thou do it not he ought nevertheless to deliver unto me statuettes of gold and in no way to slight me. Thus friendship will reign between us tenfold. Let thy messengers to Yuni my wife depart with Napkhuria’s ambassador, and Yuni’s messenger shall come to thee. Lo, I send gifts for thee; boxes filled with good oil (perfume),” &c. &c.

To Napkhuria also Tushratta insists on his rights in detail. The messengers from Mitani were said to have been present at the casting of the images, and even to have started on their journey home when Nimmuria died. It may thus be assumed that Napkhuria at once ordered the transport to be brought back. Queen Teye evidently showed no desire to be mixed up in so unpleasant a business, but Napkhuria demanded that the messenger Gilia should be sent to him.

Most probably this often-mentioned Gilia was the witness present at the casting and despatching of the images. Tushratta gave evasive answers, and his last letter (more than two hundred lines in length) is something in the nature of an ultimatum. On both sides fresh complaints are brought forward, and the settlement of each one of them was made dependent on the settlement of the principal question. Napkhuria threatened to close his land against all subjects of Mitani, and, as no later document has been found, it is probable that at this point all intercourse ceased. A much mutilated letter from Gebal to Egypt announces the departure of the king of Mitani with an armed force; but it is doubtful whether this can be quoted in the present connection.

The characters of the two irreconcilable monarchs, who show each other up so admirably for our edification, make any question as to which had right on his side seem comparatively trifling. Tushratta was evidently much distressed that he dared not venture to send his Gilia back again and that none of the later letters which he had from Nimmuria contained any word of the golden images. It is evident also that Napkhuria, supported by Teye, had actually recalled embassies that his father had already sent out. The old king, who had called Ishtar of Nineveh to his help, may have been brought by the approach of death into a generous state of mind not uncommon in such cases. Even now we say, “He must be near his end,” when a man shows unexpected and unusual gentleness. It is quite possible that Nimmuria had ordered the images in question to be made for his worthy friend without giving any formal promise to send them, and that as soon as Tushratta learned what had happened, he promptly interposed with a lie, in hope of appealing to Napkhuria’s sense of the fitness of things. That, however, was expecting too much.

IV. LETTERS FROM ASIATIC VASSALS.

Four-fifths of the number of letters consist of reports and communications from Egyptian governors, military commanders, magistrates, and other officials in Western Asia. The form of address from these subordinates to the Pharaoh is naturally very different from “Royal Brother,” and in hurried announcements it is often contracted. Written in full the long formula runs:

“To the king, my lord, my gods, my sun, the sun of heaven; Yitia, prefect of Askelon is thy servant, the dust at thy feet, the servant of thy horses. At the feet of the king my lord seven times and again seven times I prostrate myself upon my back and upon my breast.”

The importance of these letters, however, consists in the substance of what they report and in what they tell us as to the doings of the writers. They are the data by reason of which the Tell el Amarna archives constitute a unique store of historical material for the study of the history of civilisation.

Warlike expeditions among the vassal chiefs were the order of the day. Most dangerous of all the chiefs was Aziru, prefect of the land of the Amorites, whose territory included the district north of Damascus and part of the valley of the Orontes. In the hope of founding an independent kingdom, Aziru had swiftly seized on the dominions of all the chiefs on his northern boundary, and in this action his admirable understanding with the Egyptian officials afforded him invaluable help. The town of Tunip sent a truly pathetic letter to Pharaoh from which we learn that Aziru had already taken Nii, was besieging Simyra in Phœnicia, and at the same time, by the aid of his creatures at Court, had succeeded in preventing the king from reinstating a prince of Tunip who had been sent into Egypt as a hostage. This prince, a certain Yadi Addu, had already been released and was on his way home when the allies of Aziru caused him to be recalled.

“If, however, we have to mourn,” so the complaint proceeds, “the king himself will soon have to mourn over those things which Aziru has committed against us, for next he will turn his hand against his lord. But Tunip, thy city, weeps; her tears flow; nowhere is there help for us.”

The most bitter complaints against Aziru and his father Abd-Ashera come from Rib-Addi of Gebal. His utterances rival the Lamentations of Jeremiah both in volume and in monotonous pathos. One of these many letters, the contents of which are often stereotyped enough, is also noticeable for its revelation of the connection of Rib-Addi, who must already have been an elderly man, with Amanappa:

“To Amanappa, my father; Rib-Addi, thy son! At my father’s feet I fall. Again and again I asked thee, ‘Canst thou not rescue me from the hand of Abd-Ashera? All the Habiri are on his side; the princes will hear no remonstrances, but are in alliance with him; thereby is he become mighty.’ But thou hast answered me, ‘Send thy messenger with me to Court, and then will I, if nothing be said against it (i.e., by the king), send him again and again with royal troops to thee till the Pidati march forth to secure thy life.’ Then I answered thee, ‘I will not delay to send the man, but nothing of this must come to the ears of Abd-Ashera, for [Yanhamu has] taken [silver] from his hand.’ (As much as to say that if Abd-Ashera gives Yanhamu a hint, the messenger will never get beyond Lower Egypt.) But thou hast said, ‘Fear not, but send a ship to the Yarimuta, and money and garments will come to thee thence.’ Now, behold, the troops which thou hast given me have fled, because thou hast neglected me, while I have obeyed thee. He hath spoken with the official (Yanhamu?) nine times [in vain]. Behold, thou art delaying with regard to this offence as with the others. What then can save me? If I receive no troops I shall forsake my city, and flee, doing that which seems good to me to preserve my life.”

Yanhamu’s bias against Rib-Addi is made evident in many other letters which the poor wretch addressed to the Court:

“If I should make a treaty with Abd-Ashera as did Yap-Addi and Zimrida, then I should be safe. Furthermore, since Simyra is indeed lost to me, and Yanhamu hath received Bit-Arti, he ought to send me provision of grain that I may defend the king’s city for him. Thou, oh king, speak to Yanhamu; ‘Behold, Rib-Addi is in thy hand, and all injury done to him falls on thee.’ ”

This desire was not complied with, for the Phœnician vassal was at length robbed of all his cities and possessions, so that even the callous Egyptian Government felt obliged at last to send a threatening embassy to Aziru, the son of Abd-Ashera, and the real author of the difficulties in Gebal. At the same time the surrender was demanded of certain “enemies of the king,” who were in all probability principal adherents of Aziru. When the messenger Hani arrived with this note, Aziru, evidently warned in good time, had promptly vanished over the hills, and none of the royal commands could be carried out. He pretends to have settled down in Tunip, which he must previously have seized, but at once returned home on hearing of Hani’s arrival. Unfortunately it was too late. The cunning Amorite brought forward one excuse after another. “Even if thy actions be just, yet if thou dissemble in thy letters at thy pleasure, the king must at length come to think that thou liest in every case,” is a passage in the letter brought by Hani. Aziru replies in a tone of injured innocence:

“To the great king, my lord, my god, my sun; Aziru, thy servant. Seven times and again seven times, &c. Oh, lord, I am indeed thy servant; and only when prostrate on the ground before the king, my lord, can I speak what I have to say. But hearken not, O lord, to the foes who slander me before thee. I remain thy servant for ever.”