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NO. X. – PALMYRA. (TADMOR.)

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“As patience is the greatest of friends to the unfortunate, so is time the greatest of friends to the lovers of landscape. It resolves the noblest works of art into the most affecting ornaments of created things. The fall of empires, with which the death of great characters is so immediately associated, possesses a prescriptive title, as it were, to all our sympathy; forming at once a magnificent, yet melancholy spectacle; and awakening in the mind all the grandeur of solitude. Who would not be delighted to make a pilgrimage to the East to see the columns of Persepolis, and the still more magnificent ruins of Palmyra? Where awe springs, as it were, personified from the fragments, and proclaims instructive lessons from the vicissitudes of fortune. Palmyra, once a paradise in the centre of inhospitable deserts, the pride of Solomon, the capital of Zenobia, and the wonder and admiration of all the East, now lies ‘majestic though in ruins!’ Its glory withered, time has cast over it a sacred grandeur, softened into grace. History, by its silence, mourns its melancholy destiny; while immense masses and stupendous columns denote the spot, where once the splendid city of the desert reared her proud and matchless towers. Ruins are the only legacy the destroyer left to posterity.” – Harmonies of Nature.

This city was the capital of Palmyrene, a country on the eastern boundaries of Syria. Its origin is uncertain; but a portion of its history is exceedingly interesting; and its vast assemblage of ruins are beheld with astonishment and rapture by the curious, the learned, and the elegant.

It was situated in the midst of a large plain, surrounded on three sides by a long chain of mountains. It stands in a desert, in the pachalic of Damascus, about forty-eight leagues from Aleppo, and about the same distance from Damascus, eighty-five miles west from the Euphrates, and about one hundred and seventeen from the shores of the Mediterranean.

History is, for the most part, silent in regard to the early history of this city. It is said to have been built by Solomon, after he had conquered the king of Hamathzoba, within whose dominion the country lay, in which the city was afterwards erected. He called it Tadmor50, which some have construed as the place of Palms51; and sometimes “Tadmor in the Wilderness.”

We are assured by Josephus, that this was the city which the Greeks and Romans afterwards called Palmyra. His words are: – “Now, Solomon went in the desert above Syria, and possessed himself of it; and built there a very great city, which was distant two days’ journey from the upper Syria, and one day’s journey from the Euphrates, and six long days’ journey from Babylon the great. Now the reason why this city lay so remote from those parts of Syria, that are inhabited, is this: that below there is no water to be had; and that it is in that place only that there are springs and pits of water. When, therefore, he had built that city, and encompassed it with very strong walls, he gave it the name of Tadmor; and that is the name it is still called by at this day among the Syrians52: but the Greeks name it Palmyra.”

That the city was built by Solomon is most probable; but that the present ruins have any relation to buildings of his erection is very improbable: indeed we must assume it as certain that they are not; they being entirely those of the Greek orders. With the exception of four Ionic half-columns in the Temple of the Sun, and two in one of the mausoleums, the whole architecture of Palmyra is Corinthian. Neither history nor even tradition, moreover, speaks of any other architect than Solomon.

Some have been disposed to give it an earlier existence53. The Arabic translator of Chronicles makes Palmyra older than Solomon; John of Antioch, surnamed Melala, says, that he built it on the spot where David slew Goliah, in memory of that action; and Abul-Farai mentions in what year, with the particulars. These and other accounts of the early state of Palmyra, which might be collected from the Arabic authors, bear such evident marks of fable and wild conjecture, that we shall pass them over.

Notwithstanding this, we assume the city to have been founded by the celebrated king to whom the honour is given: who built the temples is totally unknown.

The motives which tempted Solomon to build a city in a plain, now altogether a desert, we copy from Mr. Addison’s Travels to Damascus: – “The astonishment that takes hold of the mind at the strange position of this magnificent city, at one time the capital of the East, on the edge of the great desert, and surrounded for several days’ journey on all sides by naked solitary wilds, is removed by marking well the peculiarity of its geographical position. The great caravans coming to Europe, laden with the rich merchandise of India, would naturally come along the Persian gulf, through the south of Persia, to the Euphrates, the direct line; their object then would be to strike across the great Syrian desert as early as possible, to reach the large markets and ports of Syria. With more than 600 miles of desert without water, between the mouth of the Euphrates and Syria, they would naturally be obliged to keep along the banks of that river, until the extent of desert country became diminished. They would then find the copious springs of Tadmor the nearest and most convenient to make for; and in their direct route from the north of India along the Euphrates. These springs would then immediately become most important, and would naturally attract the attention of a wise prince like Solomon, who would ‘fence them with strong walls.’ Here the caravans would rest and take in water; here would congregate the merchants from adjacent countries and Europe; and from hence the great caravan would be divided into numerous branches, to the north, south, and west54. A large mart for the exchange of commodities would be established, and an important city would quickly arise. The choice of this spot by Solomon, we may naturally consider founded on a policy of enriching himself by drawing the commerce of India through his dominions, from which commerce, probably, he derived the wealth for which he is so celebrated. In the chapter, succeeding that in which Solomon is mentioned to have built Tadmor in the wilderness, we read that ‘the weight of gold that came to Solomon in one year, was six hundred three score and six talents of gold55; besides that he had of the merchantmen, and of the traffic of the spice-merchants, and of all the kings of Arabia, and of the governors of the country.’”

The city which Solomon built was destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar; but who rebuilt it is entirely unknown. It is not mentioned by Xenophon, in his history of the expedition of Cyrus the younger, though he gives a very accurate account of the desert, and must have left this place not a great way to the right in his march towards Babylon. Nor is it once alluded to by Diodorus, nor Plutarch, nor Arrian, nor Quintus Curtius, nor, indeed, by any of the biographers or historians of Alexander; although he marched through this desert to Thapsacus.

Nor is it taken any notice of as being in existence even in the time of Seleucus Nicator, he who built so many cities in Syria; nor is it once mentioned in the history of his successor. It is not even mentioned so lately as the time in which Pompey the Great conquered the country in which it is situated. No notice is taken in Roman history of its being in any way existing, till the time of Mark Antony; who, after the battle at Philippi, marched against it, as we are told by Appian, with a view of plundering it; but the inhabitants escaped with their effects over the Euphrates. This very circumstance proves it to have been at that time no very large place; added to which, it seems to be certain, that none of these temples, &c., could have been in existence; for the Romans had, for some time, been alive to the benefits of works of art; especially paintings, sculpture, and architecture. His sole object, in going thither, was to plunder the Palmyrene merchants, who were supposed to have acquired considerable wealth, by selling the commodities of India and Arabia.

Added to all this, Strabo, the best and most accurate geographer of ancient times, does not once speak of its name. The first description of this now celebrated place is by Pliny; and it runs thus: – “Palmyra is remarkable for situation, a rich soil, and pleasant streams. It is surrounded on all sides by a vast sandy desert, which totally separates it from the rest of the world, and has preserved its independence between the two great empires of Rome and Parthia, whose first care, when at war, is to engage it in their interest. It is distant from Seleucia three hundred and thirty-seven miles; from the Mediterranean two hundred and three; and from Damascus one hundred and seventy-six.”

These distances are not quite accurate, being too great. Palmyra is also mentioned by Ptolemy, who makes it the capital of sixteen cities in Syria Palmyrena. Trajan and Hadrian made expeditions into the East, and must have passed through this city, or near it. Nothing, however, is said of it. Had the temples been there at that time, Hadrian, who was so great a patron of the elegant arts, would, there can be no doubt, have valued them. Some, indeed, insist that he repaired the city; and that it was thence called Hadrianopolis.

The Palmyrenes submitted to that emperor about the year 130. Hadrian, then, making a tour through Syria into Egypt, delighted with the situation and native strength of the place, is said to have determined on furnishing it with various splendid edifices and ornaments; and it is probable, that he then conferred upon it the privileges of “Colonia Juris Italici,” which, as we learn from Ulpian, it actually enjoyed, and the inhabitants were thence induced by gratitude to call themselves “Hadrianopolitæ.” It is supposed that many of its marble pillars, particularly those of the long porticoes, were the gift of this emperor. It must, nevertheless, be borne in mind, that all this is little better than conjecture. Mr. Halifax, however, says, “that as the most ancient inscription, he met with at Palmyra, was dated the three hundred and fourteenth year from the death of Alexander, that is, ten years before Christ, and another, dated between twenty and thirty years before Hadrian, consequently before the Romans got footing there, he concluded, that the sumptuous structures he saw there were not raised by the Romans.”

From an inscription on the shaft of a column in the long portico, where all the inscriptions seem to have been under statues, it appears that, in the reign of Alexander Severus, they joined that emperor in his expedition against the Persians.

From this time to the reign of Gallienus, no mention is made of this city: but then it became so conspicuous, that its history will be a subject of interest to all succeeding times.

The following is an abstract of the history of this period, presented to us in the pages of Gibbon, Mr. Wood, and other writers. A place possessed of such singular advantages, and situated at a convenient distance from the gulf of Persia, and the Mediterranean, was soon frequented by the caravans, which conveyed to the nations of Europe a considerable part of the rich commodities of India. Palmyra insensibly increased into an opulent and independent city; and, connecting the Roman and Parthian empire by the mutual benefits of commerce, was suffered to observe an humble neutrality; till at length, after the victories of Trajan, the little republic sank into the bosom of Rome, and flourished more than one hundred and fifty years in the subordinate yet honourable rank of a colony; and it is during this period of peace, Mr. Gibbon is disposed to believe, that the wealthy Palmyrians constructed those temples, palaces and porticoes of Grecian architecture, the ruins of which in modern times have excited so much admiration and wonder.

The Roman affairs in the East had been for some time in a very deplorable condition, when Odenatus, a Palmyrene, but of what family or rank originally in the state is not agreed56, made so judicious a use of his situation between the two rival powers of Rome and Persia, as to succeed in getting the balance of power into his hands. It appears, that he declared in favour of different interests, as alterations of affairs rendered necessary. At length he joined the shattered remains of the Roman army in Syria, routed Sapor, the Persian king, and advanced as far as Ctesiphon, the capital of his empire. He returned from this expedition in great glory; and hence Gallienus, emperor of Rome, was induced to declare him Augustus and co-partner of his empire.

This elevation, – which he enjoyed jointly with his celebrated consort, Zenobia, – appeared to reflect a new splendour on their country, and Palmyra for a while stood upon an equality with Rome. The competition, however, was fatal; and ages of prosperity were sacrificed to a moment of glory.

The last public action of Odenatus was his relieving Asia from the Goths, who had over-run several of its provinces, committing great ravages; but retired upon his approach: in pursuing them, however, Odenatus was assassinated by an officer of his own guard, named Mæonius, who was also his kinsman; and who, having taken the son off also, became for a short time sovereign. He, too, shared the fate of those he had betrayed, and Zenobia became sovereign queen in his stead.

All that is known of Zenobia’s extraction is, that she claimed a descent from the Ptolemies of Egypt57; and that she boasted of having Cleopatra for an ancestress. She was a woman of very great beauty58; and of very extraordinary enterprise. We cannot enter into her history so fully as we could wish. She conquered Syria and Mesopotamia; she subdued Egypt; and added the greater part of Asia Minor to her dominions. Thus a small territory in the desert, under the government of a woman, made the great kingdoms of the Ptolemies and the Seleucidæ part of the dominions of a single city, whose name we look in vain for in their history; and Zenobia, lately confined to the barren plain of Palmyra, ruled from the south of Egypt to the Bosphorus and the Black Sea.

At length Aurelian, the Roman emperor, entered the field against her; and the loss of two great battles, the former near Antioch, the latter at Emesa, reduced her to the necessity of taking shelter within the walls of her own capital. Aurelian besieged her there; but the enterprise was exceedingly difficult. “The Roman people,” said Aurelian, “speak with contempt of the war, which I am waging against a woman. They are ignorant both of the character and power of Zenobia. It is impossible to enumerate her warlike preparations, of stones, of arrows, and of every species of missile weapons. Every part of the walls is provided with two or three balistæ59, and artificial fires are thrown from her military engines. The fear of punishment has armed her with a desperate courage. Yet I still trust to the protecting deities of Rome, who have hitherto been favourable to all my undertakings.”

In another letter he writes to the senate in the following terms: – “I hear, Conscript Fathers, that it hath been urged against me, that I have not accomplished a manly task, in not triumphing over Zenobia. But my very blamers themselves would not know how to praise me enough, if they knew that woman; her firmness of purpose; the dignity she preserves towards her army; her munificence when circumstances require it; her severity, when to be severe is to be just. I may say, that the victory of Odenatus over the Persians, and his putting Sapor to flight, and his reaching Ctesiphon, were due to her. I can assert that such was the dread entertained of this woman among the nations of the East and of Egypt, that she kept in check the Arabians, the Saracens, and the Armenians; nor would I have preserved her life, if I had not thought she would much benefit the Roman state.” This was written after her defeat.

Tired of making unsuccessful attempts, Aurelian determined to try the effects of negotiation, and accordingly wrote to Zenobia. The style he adopted, however, rather commanded terms than proposed them: —

Aurelian, emperor of the Roman world, to Zenobia, and the others united together in hostile alliance.

“You ought to do that of your own accord, which is commanded by my letters. I charge you to surrender, on your lives being spared; and you, Zenobia, may pass your life in some spot where I shall place you, in pursuance of the distinguished sentence of the senate; your gems, silver, gold, silk, horses, and camels, being given up to the Roman treasury. The laws and institutions of the Palmyrenes shall be respected.”

To this letter Zenobia returned the following answer: —

Zenobia, Queen of the East, to the Roman Emperor, Aurelian.

“Never was such an unreasonable demand proposed, or such rigorous terms offered, by any but yourself! Remember, Aurelian, that in war, whatever is done should be done by valour. You imperiously command me to surrender: but can you forget, that Cleopatra chose rather to die with the title of queen, than to live in any inferior dignity? We expect succours from Persia; the Saracens are arming in our cause; even the Syrian banditti have already defeated your army. Judge what you are to expect from the junction of these forces. You shall be compelled to abate that pride with which, as if you were absolute lord of the universe, you command me to become your captive.”

When Aurelian read this letter, says Vopiscus, he blushed; not so much with shame, as with indignation.

Her answer inflamed the emperor to the highest pitch. He pressed the siege, therefore, with redoubled vigour; and the city was reduced to such extremities, that her council advised her to send for succour to the Persians. Thus counselled, she determined on going to the king of Persia in person. She set out, therefore, on the fleetest of her dromedaries, and had already reached the banks of the Euphrates (about sixty miles from Palmyra), when she was overtaken by Aurelian’s light horse, and brought back, captive, to the feet of Aurelian. We are told, that the sight of the queen gave the Roman emperor infinite pleasure; but that his ambition suffered some humiliation, when he considered that posterity would always look upon this only as the conquest of a woman60. The city surrendered soon after, and was treated with great lenity.

Aurelian now went to Emesa; on arriving at which place, he questioned the queen as to her motives, and the persons who had advised her to make so obstinate a defence. He sternly asked her, how she had presumed to rise in arms against the emperors of Rome? “Because,” answered Zenobia, “I disdained to consider as Roman emperors an Aureolus or a Gallienus. You alone I acknowledge as my conqueror and my sovereign; and this I do, because you know how to conquer.”

When, however, the soldiers demanded her immediate execution, her fortitude forsook her. She confessed by whose counsel she had been guided. She purchased a dishonourable life at the expense of her friends. They were immediately led to execution; herself was reserved to grace the conqueror’s triumph.

Among those of her friends, whose names she had betrayed, was the illustrious Longinus, author of that noble Treatise on the Sublime, which is so well known and appreciated by every scholar. He it was, she confessed, who had drawn up the letter. “Her councillors,” she said, “were to be blamed, and not herself. What could a weak, short-sighted, woman do? especially when beset by artful and ambitious men, who made her subservient to all their schemes? She never had aimed at empire, had they not placed it before her eyes in all its allurements. The letter which affronted Aurelian was not her own – Longinus wrote it; the insolence was his.”

When Aurelian heard this, he directed all his fury against the unfortunate Longinus. That illustrious person was immediately led to execution. Far from lamenting his fate, however, he condoled with his friends, pitied Zenobia, and expressed his joy; looking upon death as a blessing, since it would rescue his body from slavery, and give his soul to that freedom he the most desired. “This world,” said he, with his expiring breath, “is nothing but a prison; happy, therefore, is he who gets soonest out of it, and gains his liberty.”

A modern poet has very finely alluded to this in his poem on Palmyra.

On the hushed plain, where sullen horror broods,

And darkest frown the Syrian solitudes;

Where morn’s soft steps no balmy fragrance leave,

And parched and dewless is the couch of eve;

Thy form, pale city of the waste, appears

Like some faint vision of departed years;

In massy clusters still a giant train,

Thy sculptured fabrics whiten on the plain.

Still stretch thy columned vistas far away,

The shadowed dimness of their long array.

But where the stirring crowd, the voice of strife,

The glow of action and the thrill of life?

Hear the loud crash of yon huge fragments fall,

The pealing answer of each desert hall;

The night-bird shrieking from her secret cell,

The hollow winds, the tale of ruin tell.

See, fondly lingering, Mithra’s parting rays

Gild the proud towers, once vocal with his praise:

But the cold altars clasping weeds entwine,

And Moslems worship at the godless shrine.

Yet here slow pausing memory loves to pour

Her magic influence o’er this pensive hour:

And yet, as yon recesses deep prolong

The echoed sweetness of the Arab song,

Recalls that scene, when wisdom’s sceptred child,

First broke the stillness of the lonely wild.

From air, from ocean, from earth’s utmost clime,

The summoned genii heard the muttered rhyme;

The tasking spell their airy hands obeyed,

And Tadmor glittered in the palmy shade.

So to her feet the tide of ages brings

The wealth of nations and the pomp of kings,

And for her warrior queen, from Parthia’s plain

To the dark Ethiop, spreads her ample reign:

Vain boast, ev’n she who winds the field along,

Waked fiercer frenzy in the patriot throng;

And sternly beauteous in the meteor’s light,

Shot through the tempest of Emesa’s fight.

While trembling captives round the victor wait,

Hang on his eye, and catch the word of fate,

Zenobia’s self must quail beneath his nod,

A kneeling suppliant to the mimic god.

But one there stood amid that abject throng,

In truth triumphant, and in virtue strong;

Beamed on his brow the soul which, undismayed.

Smiled at the rod, and scorned the uplifted blade.

O’er thee, Palmyra, darkness seems to lower

The boding terrors of that fearful hour;

Far from thy glade indignant freedom fled,

And hope too withered as Longinus bled61.


Palmyra, having become subject to a foreign yoke, bore the burthen with impatience. The inhabitants cut off the Roman garrison. On which Aurelian instantly returned, took the town, destroyed it, and put to death most of its population, without distinction of age or sex. The slaughter was so extensive, that none were left to plough the adjacent lands.

Aurelian soon repented of his severity. He wrote to Bassus: – “You must now sheathe the sword; the Palmyrenes have been sufficiently slaughtered. We have not spared women; we have slain children; we have strangled old men; we have destroyed the husbandmen. To whom, then, shall we leave the land? To whom shall we leave the city? We must spare those who remain; for we think, that the few there are now existing, will take warning from the punishment of the many who have been destroyed.”

The emperor then goes on to desire his lieutenant to rebuild the Temple of the Sun as magnificently as it had been in times past; to expend 300 pounds weight of gold, which he had found in the coffers of Zenobia, beside 1800 pounds weight of silver, which was raised from the sale of the people’s goods; together with the crown jewels, all which he ordered to be sold, to make money to beautify the temple; while he himself promises to write to the Senate, to send a priest from Rome to dedicate it. But, in the language of Gibbon, it is easier to destroy than it is to restore.

Zenobia was now to be led to the conqueror’s triumph. This triumph was celebrated with extraordinary magnificence. It was opened by twenty elephants, four royal tigers, and above two hundred of the most curious animals from every climate of the known world. Ambassadors from Æthiopia, Arabia, Persia, Bactriana, India, and China, attended the triumph; and a long train of captives, – Goths, Vandals, Sarmatians, Alemanni, Franks, Gauls, Syrians, and Egyptians. Amongst these, Zenobia. She was confined in fetters of gold; a slave supported the gold chain which encircled her neck, and she almost fainted under the weight of her jewels. She did not ride, but walk! preceded by the chariot in which she had once indulged the vain hope of entering Rome as empress62.

The Palmyrenes63, says Zosimus, had several declarations from the gods, which portended the overthrow of their empire; and, among others, having consulted the temple of Apollo, at Seleucia in Cilicia, to know if they should ever obtain the empire of the East, they got the following unceremonious answer:

Avoid my temple, cursed, treacherous nation!

You even put the gods themselves in passion.


The religion of the Palmyrenes, it is evident, was pagan; their government, for the most part, republican; but their laws are entirely lost; nor can anything be known in respect to their polity, but what may be gathered from the inscriptions. Their chief deity was the Sun.

In regard to their knowledge of art, they have left the finest specimens in the ruins that now remain; and, doubtless, Longinus’ work on the Sublime was written within its walls. “From these hints we may see,” says Mr. Wood, “that this people copied after great models in their manners, their vices, and their virtues. Their funeral customs were from Egypt, their luxury was Persian, and their letters and arts were from the Greeks. Their situation in the midst of these three great nations makes it reasonable to suppose, that they adopted most of their customs and manners. But to say more on that head from such scanty materials, would be to indulge too much in mere conjecture, which seems rather the privilege of the reader than of the writer.”

Some years after this, we find Diocletian erecting several buildings here; but what they were is not stated. Justinian, also, repaired Palmyra, which, according to Procopius, had been almost entirely deserted. These repairs, however, are supposed to have reference rather to strength than to ornament; and this is the last mention of Palmyra in Roman history.

The various fortunes of Palmyra, to and from the time of Mahomet’s appearance, are scarcely known, except that it was considered as a place of great strength; and that in the twelfth century, A. D. 1171, there were, according to Benjamin of Tudela, who visited the spot in that year, two thousand Jews in it.

Palmyra, according to the Arabs, once occupied an area nearly ten miles in circumference, and is supposed to have been reduced to its present confined and ruined state by the quantities of sand64 driven on it by whirlwinds.

The walls of the city were flanked by square towers. They were three miles in circumference, and it is imagined that they included the great temple. What remains there are of the wall, do not look, according to Mr. Wood, unlike the work of Justinian; and may be part of the repairs mentioned by Procopius; and the highest antiquity anything else can claim is the time of the Mamelukes.


Примечание 165


We shall now give place to accounts in respect to the first impressions, made by these ruins on the minds of different travellers.

Mr. Halifax says66, “the city itself appears to have been of a large extent by the space now taken up by the ruins;” but that there are no footsteps of any walls remaining, nor is it possible to judge of the ancient figure of the place. The present inhabitants, as they are poor, miserable, dirty people, so they have shut themselves up, to the number of about thirty or forty families, in little huts made of dirt, within the walls of a spacious court, which inclosed a most magnificent heathen temple: thereinto also Mr. Halifax’s party entered, the whole village being gathered together at the door; whether to stand upon their defence in case the strangers proved enemies (for some of them had guns in their hands), or out of mere curiosity to gaze, he knew not. However the guide, who was an Arab whom Assyne their king had sent to conduct them through the village, being a man known among them, they had an easy admittance; and, with a great many welcomes in their language, were led to the sheik’s house, with whom they took up their abode. “And to mention here what the place at first view represented, certainly the world itself could not afford the like mixture of remains of greatest state and magnificence, together with the extremity of poverty and wretchedness.” The nearest parallel Mr. Halifax could think of, was that of the temple of Baal, destroyed by Jehu, and converted into a draught-house.

“We had scarce passed the sepulchres,” says Mr. Wood, “when the hills opening discovered to us all at once the greatest quantity of ruins we had ever seen, all of white marble; and beyond them, towards the Euphrates, a flat waste as far as the eye could reach, without any object that showed either life or motion.”

When Mr. Wood’s party arrived, they were conducted to one of the huts, of which there were about thirty, in the court of the great temple. The inhabitants of both sexes were well-shaped, and the women, though very swarthy, had good features. They were veiled; but did not so scrupulously conceal their faces as the Eastern women generally do. They paint the ends of their fingers red, their lips blue, and their eyebrows and eyelashes black67.

They had large rings of gold or brass in their ears and nostrils, and appeared to be healthy and robust.

The ruins were next visited by Mr. Bruce: – “When we arrived at the top of the hill,” says he, “there opened before us, the most astonishing, stupendous, sight, that perhaps ever appeared to mortal sight. The whole plain below, which was very extensive, was covered so thick with magnificent ruins, as the one seemed to touch the other, all of fine proportions, all of agreeable forms, all composed of white stone, which, at that distance, appeared like marble. At the end of it stood the Palace of the Sun, a building worthy so magnificent a scene.”

The effect on the imagination of Mr. Addison appears to have been equally lively: – “At the end of the sandy plain,” says he, “the eye rests upon the lofty columns of the Temple of the Sun, encompassed by a dark elevated mass of ruined buildings; and beyond, all around, and right and left towards the Euphrates, as far as the eye can reach, extends the vast level naked flat of the great desert, over which the eye runs in every direction, piercing the boundless horizon, without discovering a human being or a trace of man. Naked, solitary, unlimited space extends around, where man never breathes under the shade, or rests his limbs under the cover of a dwelling. A deep blue tint spreads along its surface, here and there shaded with a cast of brown; the distant outline of the horizon is clear and sharply defined; not an eminence rises to break the monotonous flat, and along the edge extends a large district covered with salt, distinguished from the rest by its peculiar colour.

“There is something grand and awe-inspiring in its boundless immensity. Like the first view of the ocean, it inspires emotions, never before experienced, unearthly in appearance, and out of character with the general fair face of nature. The eye shrinks from contemplating the empty, cheerless solitude, and we turn away in quest of some object to remove the scenes of utter loneliness, that its gloomy aspect is calculated to inspire.”

From these pages we turn with satisfaction to those of an American: – “I have stood before the Parthenon, and have almost worshipped that divine achievement of the immortal Phidias. I have been at Milan, at Ephesus, at Alexandria, at Antioch; but in none of these renowned cities I have beheld any thing, that I can allow to approach in united extent, grandeur, and most consummate beauty, this almost more than work of man. On each side of this, the central point, there rose upward slender pyramids – pointed obelisks – domes of the most graceful proportions, columns, arches, and lofty towers, for number and for form, beyond my power to describe. These buildings, as well as the walls of the city, being all either of white marble, or of some stone as white, and being everywhere in their whole extent interspersed, as I have already said, with multitudes of overshadowing palm trees, perfectly filled and satisfied my sense of beauty, and made me feel, for the moment, as if in such a scene I should love to dwell, and there end my days.”

Burckhardt speaks thus of Palmyra and Balbec: – “Having seen the ruins of Tadmor, a comparison between these two renowned remains of antiquity naturally offered itself to my mind. The temple of the Sun at Tadmor, is upon a grander scale than that of Balbec, but it is choked with Arab houses, which admit only a view of the building in detail. The architecture of Balbec is richer than that of Tadmor.”

In respect to the ruins, we must content ourselves with giving a very general account, as it would be impossible to render a minute description intelligible without the aid of plates.68 Our account will be a compilation from those given by Mr. Halifax, Mr. Wood, Mr. Bruce, Mr. Addison, and other writers, who have been there.

The entire number of distinct buildings, which may still be traced, are from forty to fifty. To the northward of the valley of the tombs, on the highest eminence in the immediate vicinity, towers the ruined Turkish or Saracenic castle. It is seated on the very summit of the mountain, and surrounded by a deep ditch, cut out of the solid rock. It is said by the Arabs to have been built by Man Ogle, a prince of the Druses; its deserted chambers and passages partake of the universal solitude and silence; there is not a living thing about it; it seems to be deserted even by the bats.

From this castle is seen an extensive view round about: you see Tadmor under you, inclosed on three sides with long ridges of mountains, which open towards the east gradually, to the distance of about an hour’s riding; but to the east stretches a vast plain beyond the reach of the eye. In this plain you see a large valley of salt, lying about an hour’s distance from the city69.

It is imagined by the Persians that this castle, as well as the edifices at Balbec, were built by genii, for the purposes of hiding in their subterranean caverns immense treasures, which still remain there70. “All these things,” said one of the Arabs to Mr. Wood, “were done by Solyman ebn Doud, (Solomon, the son of David,) by the assistance of spirits.”

But of all the monuments of art and magnificence, the most considerable is the Temple of the Sun.

This temple, says Bruce, is very much ruined; of its peristyle there only remains70 a few columns entire, Corinthian, fluted and very elegant, though apparently of slenderer proportions than ten diameters. Their capitals are quite destroyed. The ornament of the outer gate are, some of them, of great beauty, both as to execution and design.

Within the court are the remains of two rows of very noble marble pillars, thirty-seven feet high. The temple was encompassed with another row of pillars, fifty feet high; but the temple itself was only thirty-three yards in length, and thirteen or fourteen in breadth. This is now converted into a mosque, and ornamented after the Turkish manner.

North of this place is an OBELISK, consisting of seven large stones, besides its capital, and the wreathed work above it, about fifty feet high, and just above the pedestal twelve in circumference. Upon this was probably a statue, which the Turks have destroyed.

On the west side is a most magnificent arch, on the remains of which are some vines and clusters of grapes, carved in the boldest imitation of nature that can be conceived.

Just over the door are discerned a pair of wings, which extend its whole breadth; the body to which they belong is totally destroyed, and it cannot now certainly be known, whether it was that of an eagle or of a cherub, several representations of both being visible on other fragments of the building.

The north end of the building is adorned with a curious fret-work and bas-relief; and in the middle there is a dome or cupola, about ten feet in diameter, which appears to have been either hewn out of the rock, or moulded of some composition, which, by time, is grown equally hard.

At about the distance of a mile from the OBELISK are two others, besides the fragment of a third; hence it has been reasonably suggested, that they were a continued row.

Every spot of ground intervening between the walls and columns, is laid out in plantations of corn and olives, inclosed by mud walls.

In the direction of the mountains lie fragments of stone, here and there columns stand erect, and clumps of broken pillars are met with at intervals. All this space seems to have been covered with small temples and ornamental buildings, approached by colonnades.

Next to the temple, the most remarkable structure is the long portico, which commences about two thousand two hundred feet to the north-west of the temple, and extends for nearly four thousand feet further in the same direction. “It is a remark worthy the observation of historians,” says Volney, “that the front of the portico has twelve pillars like that at Balbec; but what artists will esteem still more curious is that these two fronts resemble the gallery of the house built by Perrault, long before the existence of the drawing which made us acquainted with them. The only difference is, that the columns of the Louvre are double, whereas those of Palmyra are detached.”

About one hundred paces from the middle obelisk, straight forward, is a magnificent entry to a piazza, which is forty feet broad and more than half a mile in length, inclosed with two rows of marble pillars, twenty-six feet high, and eight or nine feet in compass. Of these there still remain one hundred and twenty-nine; and, by a moderate computation, there could not, originally, have been less than five hundred and sixty. The upper end of the piazza was shut in by a row of pillars, standing somewhat closer than those on each side.

A little to the left are the ruins of a stately building, which appears to have been a banqueting-house. It is built of better marble, and is finished with greater elegance, than the piazza. The pillars which supported it were one entire stone, which is so strong that one of them, which has fallen down, has received no injury. It measures twenty-two feet in length, and in compass eight feet nine inches.

In the west side of the piazza are several apertures for gates, into the court of the palace. Each of these is adorned with four porphyry pillars; not standing in a line with those of the wall, but placed by couples in the front of the gate facing the palace, on each side. Two of these only remain, and but one standing in its place. These are thirty feet long, and nine in circumference.

“We sometimes find a palace,” says Volney, “of which nothing remains but the courts and walls; sometimes a temple, whose peristyle is half thrown down; and now a portico, a gallery, or a triumphant arch. Here stand groups of columns, whose symmetry is destroyed by the fall of many of them; these we see ranged in rows of such length, that, similar to rows of trees, they deceive the sight, and assume the appearance of continued walls. On which side soever we look, the earth is strewed with vast stones, half buried, with broken entablatures, damaged capitals, mutilated friezes, disfigured reliefs, effaced sculptures, violated tombs, and altars defiled with mud.”

“In their ruined courts,” says another traveller, “and amid the crumbling walls of their cottages, may be seen, here and there, portions of the ancient pavement of the area; while all around the inclosure extend groups of columns, with pedestals for statues, and walls ornamented with handsome architectural decorations, the ruins of the majestic portico and double colonnade, which once inclosed the whole of the vast area. Portions of a frieze, or the fragments of a cornice, upon whose decoration was expended the labour of years, are now used by the poor villagers to bake their bread upon, or are hollowed out as hand-mills, in which to grind their corn.”

Among the walls and rubbish are a vast number of lizards and serpents; and that circumstance led to the celebrated poetic picture painted by Darwin.

Lo! where Palmyra, ‘mid her wasted plains,

Her shattered aqueducts, and prostrate fanes,

As the bright orb of breezy midnight pours

Long threads of silver through her gaping towers,

O’er mouldering tombs, and tottering columns gleams,

And frosts her deserts with diffusive beams,

Sad o’er the mighty wreck in silence bends,

Lifts her wet eyes, her tremulous hands extends.

If from lone cliffs a bursting rill expands

Its transient course, and sinks into the sands;

O’er the moist rock the fell hyena prowls,

The serpent hisses, and the panther growls;

On quivering wings the famished vulture screams,

Dips his dry beak, and sweeps the gushing streams.

With foaming jaws beneath, and sanguine tongue,

Laps the lean wolf, and pants, and runs along;

Stern stalks the lion, on the rustling brinks

Hears the dread snake, and trembles as he drinks.

Quick darts the scaly monster o’er the plain,

Fold after fold his undulating train;

And, bending o’er the lake his crested brow,

Starts at the crocodile that gapes below. – Darwin.


On the eastern side of the area of the Temple of the Sun, there is a curious doorway of one solid block of stone, which commands a fine view of the desert. “As we looked out of this narrow gateway,” says Mr. Addison, “we fancied, that Zenobia herself might have often stood at the same spot, anxiously surveying the operations of Aurelian and his blockading army. From hence the eye wanders over the level waste, across which the unfortunate queen fled on her swift dromedary to the Euphrates; and here, the morning after her departure, doubtless congregated her anxious friends, to see if she was pursued in her flight; and from hence she was probably first descried, being brought back a captive and a prisoner in the hands of the Roman horsemen.”

On the east side of the Piazza, stands a great number of marble pillars: some perfect, but the greater part mutilated. In one place eleven are ranged together in a square; the space, which they inclose, is paved with broad flat stones; but there are no remains of a roof.

At a little distance are the remains of a small temple, which is also without a roof; and the walls are much defaced; but from the door is enjoyed the magnificent coup-d’œil of all the ruins, and of the vast desert beyond. Before the entry, which looks to the south, is a piazza, supported by six pillars, two on each side of the door, and one at each end. The pedestals of those in front have been filled with inscriptions in the Greek and Palmyrene languages, which are become totally illegible.

Among these ruins there are many Sepulchres. They are ranged on each side of a hollow way, towards the north part of the city, and extend more than a mile. They are all square towers, four or five stories high. But though they are alike in form, they differ greatly in magnificence. The outside is of common stone; but the floors and partitions of each story are marble. There is a walk across the whole building, just in the middle; and the space on each hand is subdivided into six partitions by thick walls. The space between the partitions is wide enough to receive the largest corpse; and in these niches there are six or seven piled one upon another.

“As great a curiosity as any,” says Mr. Halifax, “were these sepulchres, being square towers four or five stories high, and standing on both sides of a hollow way, towards the north part of the city. They stretched out in length the space of a mile, and perhaps formerly might extend a great way further. At our first view of them, some thought them the steeples of ruined churches, and were in hopes we should have found some steps of churches here; others took them to have been bastions, and part of the old fortifications, though there is not so much as any foundation of a wall to be seen. But when we came, a day or two after, more curiously to inquire into them, we quickly found their use. They were all of the same form, but of different splendour and greatness, according to the circumstances of their founders. The first we viewed was entirely marble, but is now wholly in ruins; and we found nothing but a heap of stones, amongst which we found two statues; one of a man; another of a woman, cut in sitting, or rather leaning, posture, and the heads and part of the arms being broken off; but their bodies remaining pretty entire; so that we had the advantage of seeing their habits, which appeared very noble; but more approaching the European fashion, than what is now in use in the East, which inclined me to think they might be Roman. Upon broken pieces of stone, tumbled here and there, we found some broken inscriptions, but, not affording any perfect sense, they are not worth the transcribing.”

These are the most interesting of all the ruins. As you wind up a narrow valley between the mountain range, you have them on your right and left, topping the hills, or descending to the border of the valley: some presenting heaps of rubbish, and some half fallen, expose their shattered chambers, and one or two still exist in almost an entire state of preservation. They are seen from a great distance, and have a striking effect in this desert solitude.

The ruins of Palmyra and Balbec are very different. “No comparison can be instituted between them,” says Mr. Addison. “The ruins of Balbec consist merely of two magnificent temples, inclosed in a sort of citadel; while here, over an immense area, we wander through the ruins of long porticoes leading up to ruined temples and unknown buildings. Now we see a circular colonnade sweeping round with its ruined gateway, at either end; now we come to the prostrate walls, or ruined chambers of a temple or palace; anon we explore the recesses of a bath, or the ruins of an aqueduct; then we mount the solitary staircase, and wander through the silent chambers of the tombs, ornamented with busts, inscriptions, and niches for the coffins, stored with mouldering bones; and from the summits of funereal towers, five stories in height, we look down upon this mysterious assemblage of past magnificence; and beyond them, upon the vast level surface of the desert, silent and solitary; stretching away like the vast ocean, till it is lost in the distance, far as the eye can reach. The dwelling of man is not visible. The vastness and immensity of space strikes us with awe, and the mouldering monuments of human pride, that extend around, teach us a sad lesson of the instability of all human greatness.”

Though antiquity has left nothing either in Greece or Italy, in any way to be compared with the magnificence of the ruins of Palmyra, Mr. Wood observes, that there is a greater sameness in the architecture of Palmyra than at Rome, Athens, and other great cities, whose ruins evidently point out different ages of decay. But, except four half-columns in the Temple of the Sun, and two in one of the mausoleums, the whole architecture is Corinthian, richly ornamented with some very striking beauties and some as visible faults.

Through the valley of the tombs may be traced remnants of a ruined aqueduct, which formerly conducted water to the town from, at present, an unknown source; it consists of a vaulted passage running underground, covered with a fine hard stucco. In regard to the present supply, there are two rivers, the waters of which, when judiciously distributed, must have conduced greatly to the subsistence and comfort of the ancient inhabitants; but these are now allowed to lose themselves in the sand.

Mr. Wood says that all the inscriptions he saw were in Greek or Palmyrene, except one, which was in Latin. Many attempts have been made to explain the Palmyrene inscriptions. They were generally supposed to be Syriac. Gruter, having seen an inscription at Rome, gave it as his opinion that the characters were Arabic. Scaliger, speaking of the same inscription, gave the subject up in despair. Some have thought they were Greek, translated from the Palmyrene. Upon this hint M. Barthelemy examined the inscriptions copied into Mr. Wood’s work, and came to the conclusion, that Syriac was the living language of the inhabitants of Palmyra, at the time those monuments were erected; and that the greatest part, if not all the characters, are the same as those made use of in writing Hebrew at this day, although they have a different appearance.

We shall now give a few specimens: – “This splendid and durable monument, Jamblichus, the son of Mocimus, the son of Acaleises, the son of Malichus, erected for himself, his children, and his posterity, in the month of April, year 314.

There is another to the same purport, erected in the same month, one hundred years after: – “This monument, Elabælus Manæus Cocchæus Malachus, the son of Waballathus, the son of Manæus, the son of Elabælus, built for himself and family in the month of April, year 414.

Another inscription implies that “Septimius Odenathus, the most excellent senator, had erected this monument for himself and his posterity, to preserve their name for ever.”

Another contains an epitaph erected by Soræchus, to his wife Martha, in the reign of Marcus Antoninus, A. D. 178.

A third is of the same nature; appropriated by Malchus, to himself and his children, though built by his ancestors.

Besides sepulchral monuments there are others, erected by order of the senate and people of the commonwealth of Tadmor, to the honour of those citizens who had deserved well of the republic. Among these is one in honour of Alilamenes; another in honour of Julius Aurelius Zenobius; another in honour of Jarisbolus; and others in honour of Septimius Orodes. The last of these was a great benefactor to the public and private institutions of Palmyra. He had been an officer in his younger days, and had greatly distinguished himself under his prince, Odenathus, against the Parthians; during the year in which this monument was erected, he exercised the office of symposiarch, in the festival dedicated to their Patron God, Jupiter Belus. That in honour of Alilamenes runs thus: – “The senate and the people have placed this in honour of Alilamenes, the son of Panas, the son of Mocimus, the son of Æranes, devoted lovers of their country, and in every respect deserving well of their country, and of the immortal Gods, in the year 450, and the 30th day of the month of April.”

There are, also, monuments erected by private persons to the memory of their friends. The finest of these contains the grateful remembrance which the Palmyrene merchants, trading to Vologesias71, retained of the great services which Julius Zobeidas did them in that expedition.

Another inscription commemorates the virtues of a person named Malenthon, secretary to the republic of Palmyra, when “the God Hadrian” arrived in the city (A. D. 122). He is remembered for having contributed to the adornment of the temple of Belus, and for having given a largess to the public baths, of oil for the use, not only of the citizens, but of strangers.

The monument erected to Jamblichus seems to be the oldest, and the work of Domitian the latest; taking in about three hundred years between them. The other rich and extensive buildings were, Mr. Wood supposes, erected before the last of these dates, and probably after the first; perhaps about the time Elabælus built his monument.

It is rather remarkable, that there is no monument in memory of, nor any inscription in honour of Zenobia; for which Dr. Halley accounts on the supposition, that the Romans were so much irritated and ashamed, that they destroyed and defaced everything that might be erected in honour of her.

The decay of Palmyra has been accounted for from its peculiar situation. A country without land, if the expression may be allowed, could only exist by commerce: their industry had no other channel to operate in; and when loss of their liberty was followed by that of trade, they were reduced to live idly on as much of their capital as had been spared by Aurelian. When that was spent, necessity compelled them to desert the town.

Time has partially preserved the peristyles, the intercolumniations, and entablatures; the elegance of the designs of which equal throughout the richness of the materials. These being, in many respects, the greatest and most entire, is attributed to there having been, for so long a time, few inhabitants to deface them, to a dry climate, and their distance from any city which might apply the materials to other uses. These ruins present a sad contrast with the hovels of the wild Arabs, now the only inhabitants of a city which, in former times, emulated Rome. “Of all the contrasts of past magnificence with present meanness,” says Mr. Addison, “of the wealth and genius of by-gone times with the poverty and ignorance of the present day, no more striking instance, perhaps, can be found than is presented in the present poor Arab village of Tadmor. You there see a few poverty-stricken inhabitants living in square hovels of mud mixed with chopped straw, roofed with earth, leaves, and dry sticks, congregated round the magnificent Temple of the Sun of yore; despoiled of its ornaments by one of the haughtiest and most powerful of the Roman emperors, who came with his victorious troops from the distant provinces of Gaul and of Britain, to rend asunder the dominion of which this spot, in the midst of desert solitudes, had rendered itself the head.” Mr. Addison then goes on to state that the “village of Tadmor consists, altogether, of about a dozen or fifteen families, and there can be hardly more than twenty able-bodied males in the whole place. This little community possesses a few herds of goats and dromedaries, which, together with the poultry, form the chief wealth of the villagers. These poor people are not, however, sufficiently advanced in the desert to be without the reach of the Syrian government; they all pay a capitation tax to Ibrahim Pasha. The portion of cultivated land on this spot is very small; there are merely a few scanty gardens, which produce roots, vegetables, and a miserable supply of corn. There are one or two palm-trees along the banks of the stream, and a few shrubs of the thorny acacia.”

These ruins were, some years ago, visited by a lady who has made a great noise in Syria – Lady Hester Stanhope. During her residence there she gave a kind of fête to the Bedouins. “The great sheikh,” says Mr. Carne, in his letters from the East, “and some of his officers constantly reside at the ruins. Their habitations are fixed near the great temple; they are all well-disposed and civil in their manners, and their young women are remarkable above all the other tribes for their beauty. It was a lovely day, and the youth of both sexes, dressed in their gayest habiliments, were seated in rows on the fragments of the pillars, friezes, and other ruins with which the ground was covered. Her ladyship, in her Eastern dress, walked among them, addressed them with the utmost affability, and ordered a dollar to be given to each. As she stood with all that Arab array amidst the columns of the great Temple of the Sun, the sight was picturesque and imposing, and the Bedouins hailed her with the utmost enthusiasm ‘queen of Palmyra,’ ‘queen of the desert;’ and, in their enthusiasm, would have proceeded to confer more decided marks of sovereignty; but they were declined.”

This fête was afterwards described to Mr. Buckingham by an Arab, who had been present, in the following hyperbolical style: – “As soon as it was known in the desert that the princess intended to journey to Tadmor, all the tribes were in motion; war was changed to universal peace, and every sheik, or chief, was eager to have the honour of leading the escort. Councils and assemblies were held at Horis and at Hamak, at Sham, and at Thaleb, Damascus, and Aleppo; messengers were sent in every direction, and nothing was neglected that might serve to make the way full of pleasure. When money was talked of, every one rejected it with indignation, and exclaimed, ‘Shall we not serve the princess for honour?’ Every thing being settled, the party set out, preceded by horsemen in front, dromedaries of observation on the right and the left, and camels laden with provisions in the rear. As they passed along, the parched sands of the desert became verdant plains; the burning wells became crystal streams; rich carpets of grass welcomed them at every place where they stopped for repose, and the trees under which they pitched their tents, expanded to twice their size to cover them with shade. When they reached the broken city (the ruins), the princess was taken to the greatest of all the palaces (the Temple of the Sun), and there gold and jewels were bound round her temples, and all the people did homage to her as a queen, by bowing their heads to the dust. On that day Tadmor was richer than Damascus, and more peopled than Constantinople; and if the princess had only remained, it would soon have become the greatest of all the cities of the earth: for men were pouring into it from all quarters; horsemen and chiefs, merchants and munugemein (astrologers and learned men who consult the stars); the fame of her beauty and benevolence having reached to Bagdad and Isfahan, to Bokhara and Samarcand; the greatest men of the East being desirous of beholding it for themselves.” The Arab, who firmly believed all this, narrated the return from Palmyra in the same romantic strains; and ended by repeating his regret at the misfortune of not having been one of the happy multitude, assembled on that occasion; he having been then on some business with another tribe to the south of the Dead Sea72.

Lady Hester is now dead. The following account is taken from a paper published originally at Smyrna: “We announced in our last number the death of Lady Hester Stanhope. Our readers will no doubt be glad to have a brief sketch of the principal circumstances of that extraordinary woman’s life. It was at Djouni, in Syria, that Lady Hester died, after a long illness, at the age of sixty-four. That reader must be indifferent, who reverts not with interest to his recollections of a woman, who has expired on the borders of the desert, amidst the Druses and Turkomans, over whom that noble daughter of the Infidels once exercised so strange and so marvellous a sway. The destiny of Lady Stanhope presents one of those features of which not another instance could, perhaps, be found in the annals of the East. Only imagine forty thousand Arabs suddenly assembled upon the ruins of Palmyra, and these wandering, savage, and indomitable tribes surrounding, in silent astonishment and admiration, a foreign woman, and proclaiming her Sovereign of the Desert and Queen of Palmyra! Convey yourself in thought to the scene of this incredible triumph, and you will then conceive what woman that must have been, who imposed silence on Mussulman fanaticism, and created for herself, as it were, by magic, a sovereignty in the domains of Mohammed. ‘Lady Hester Stanhope,’ says M. de Lamartine, in his admirable work, ‘was a niece of Mr. Pitt. On the death of her uncle, she left England, and visited various parts of Europe. Young, handsome, and rich, she was everywhere received with the attention and interest due to her rank, fortune, mind, and beauty; but she constantly refused to unite her fate to that of her worthiest admirers; and, after spending some years in the principal capitals of Europe, embarked with a numerous suite for Constantinople. The real cause of this expatriation has never been known. Some have ascribed it to the death of a young English officer, who was killed at that period in Spain, and whom an eternal regret rendered for ever present in Lady Hester’s heart: others have imputed her voluntary banishment to a mere love of adventure in a young person of an enterprising and courageous character. However this might be, she departed, spent some years at Constantinople, and then sailed for Syria in an English vessel, which carried also the larger part of her fortune, as well as jewellery, trinkets, and presents of all sorts, of very considerable value.’ The vessel encountered a storm in the gulf of Macri, on the road to Caramania; the ship was wrecked, Lady Hester Stanhope’s property was all lost, and it was as much as she could do to save her own life. Nothing, however, could shake her resolution. She returned to England, gathered the remainder of her fortune, sailed again for Syria, and landed at Latakia, the ancient Laodicea. She had at first thought of fixing her abode at Broussa, at the foot of the Olympus; but Broussa is a commercial city, situate on the avenues to the Ottoman capital, and reckoning not less than sixty thousand inhabitants; and Lady Hester sought the independence and solitude of the desert. She therefore selected the wilderness of Mount Lebanon, whose extreme ramifications lose themselves in the sands. Ruined Palmyra – Zenobia’s ancient capital – suited her fancy. The noble exile took up her residence at Djouni, prepared for every vicissitude. ‘Europe,’ said she, ‘is a monotonous residence; its nations are unworthy of freedom, and endless revolution are their only prospects.’ She applied herself to the study of the Arabic language, and strove to obtain a thorough acquaintance with the character and manners of the Syrian people. One day, dressed in the costume of the Osmanlis, she set out for Jerusalem, Damascus, Aleppo, and the desert; she advanced amidst a caravan loaded with wealth, tents, and presents for the Scheiks, and was soon surrounded by all the tribes, who knelt to her, and submitted to her supremacy. It was not solely by her magnificence, that Lady Hester had excited the admiration of the Arabs: her courage had been proved on more than one occasion; and she had always faced peril with a boldness and energy which the tribes well remembered. Lady Hester Stanhope knew also how to flatter the Mahomedan prejudices. She held no intercourse with Christians and Jews; she spent whole days in the grotto of a santon, who explained the Koran to her; and never appeared in public without that mien of majestic and grave inspiration, which was always unto oriental nations the characteristic of prophets. With her, however, this conduct was not so much the result of design, as of a decided proneness to every species of excitement and originality. Lady Hester Stanhope’s first abode was but a monastery. It was soon transformed into an oriental palace, with pavilions, orange-gardens and myrtles, over which spread the foliage of the cedar, such as it grows in the mountains of Lebanon. The traveller, to whom Lady Hester opened this sanctuary, would behold her clad in oriental garments. Her head was covered with a turban made of red and white cashmere. She wore a long tunic, with open loose sleeves; large Turkish trousers, the folds of which hung over yellow morocco boots, embroidered with silk. Her shoulders were covered with a sort of burnous, and a yataghan hung to her waist. Lady Hester Stanhope had a serious and imposing countenance; her noble and mild features had a majestic expression, which her high stature and the dignity of her movements enhanced. The day came when all this préstige, so expensively kept up, suddenly vanished. Lady Hester’s fortune rapidly declined; her income yearly decreased; in short, the substantial resources, which had, at one time, sustained the magic of her extraordinary domination, were daily forsaking her. The Queen of Palmyra then fell back into the rank of mere mortals, and she who had signed absolute firmans, enabling the traveller to visit in security the regions of Palmyra – she, whose authority the Sublime Porte had tacitly acknowledged – soon saw her people disown her omnipotency. She was left the title of queen, but it was but an empty name, a mere recollection; and again the monastery’s silence ruled over the solitude of Djouni. A queen, stripped of her glory of a day, Lady Hester Stanhope has expired, the sport of fate, at the moment the East is convulsed. She has expired in obscurity and loneliness, without even mingling her name with the great events of which it is now the theatre.”

All this, if no exaggeration had been employed, might have served to the excitation of a smile: but the matter did not rest there. Lady Hester, or the Princess, as she was styled, having given to the Sheik an absurd paper of authority, no one is permitted to visit Palmyra without paying a thousand piastres! “The consequence of which is,” says Mr. Carne, “several travellers have left Syria without seeing the finest ruins in the world73.”

50

The persons who visited Palmyra in 1678, found in the neighbourhood “a garden, full of palm-trees;” but when Mr. Wood was there, not a single one remained. “The name of Palmyra,” says Mr. Addison, “is supposed by some to have been derived from the word Palma, indicative of the number of palm-trees that grew here; but that name was given by the Greeks, and, although Palma signifies palm-tree in the Latin, yet in the Greek tongue it has a very different signification. Neither does Tadmor signify palm-tree in the Syrian language, nor in the Arabic; nor does Thadamoura, as the place is called by Josephus, signify palm-tree in the Hebrew. Neither do palms thrive in Syria, as the climate is too severe for them in the winter.”

51

1 Kings, ix. 18. 2 Chron. viii. 4.

52

It is a well known and very true observation, that is made by Ammianus Marcellinus (lib. xiv.), that the Greek and Roman names of places never took among the natives of Syria; which is the reason why most places retain their first and original names at this day. – Whiston.

53

Wood.

54

Ch. ix. ver. 18.

55

Ch. x. v. 14

56

He was of mean parentage, according to Orosius. Zonaras calls him “a man of Palmyra;” and Agathias speaks of him as a person entirely unknown, till he made his name illustrious by his actions. Sextus Rufus, however, calls him by an epithet implying that he was a senator.

57

Though history nowhere gives the first name of Zenobia, we learn from coins, that it was Septimia.

58

She is thus described: – Her complexion was a dark brown; she had black sparkling eyes, of uncommon fire; her countenance was divinely sprightly; and her person graceful and genteel beyond imagination; her teeth were white as pearls, and her voice clear and strong. If we add to this an uncommon strength, and consider her excessive military fatigues; for she used no carriage, generally rode, and often marched on foot three or four miles with her army; and if we, at the same time, suppose her haranguing her troops, which she used to do in her helmet, and often with her arms bare, it will give us an idea of that severe character of masculine beauty, which puts one more in mind of Minerva than of Venus.

59

There are several meanings to this word: – Balista implying a cross-bow, a sling, or an engine to shoot darts or stones.

60

“Her manly understanding,” says Gibbon, “was strengthened and adorned by study. She was not ignorant of the Latin tongue, but possessed, in equal perfection, the Greek, the Syriac, and the Egyptian languages. She had drawn up, for her own use, an epitome of oriental history, and familiarly compared the beauties of Homer and Plato, under the tuition of the sublime Longinus.”

61

Anon.

62

“The emperor afterwards presented Zenobia with an elegant villa at Tibur, or Tivoli, about twenty miles from the capital; where, in happy tranquillity, she fed the greatness of her soul with the noble images of Homer, and the exalted precepts of Plato; supported the adversity of her fortunes with fortitude and resignation; and learned that the anxieties, attendant on ambition, are happily exchanged for the enjoyments of ease, and the comforts of philosophy. The Syrian queen sank into a Roman matron; her daughters married into noble families; and her race was not yet extinct in the fifth century.” – Gibbon.

63

Addison.

64

Yet Bruce says: – “Palmyra is nowhere covered with sand or rubbish as in other ruins. The desert that surrounds it is rather gravel than sand, and is, therefore, not easily moved. Her mountains are perfectly bare, and produce nothing.”

65

This Emir lived upon rapine; being followed by a considerable number of men, who not only hated labour, but disliked equally to live under any settled government.

66

Philosophical Transactions.

67

This was the custom also in the days of Ezekiel. See ch. xxiii. 40.

68

In Mr. Wood’s well-known, though exceedingly scarce work, the ruins are represented in fifty-seven copper-plates, sixteen inches by twelve inches, printed on imperial paper; they are finely executed, the drawing is correct and masterly, and the engraving highly finished. The Palmyrene and Greek inscriptions on the funeral monuments, and other buildings, are copied; and besides picturesque views of the ruins, from several points of sight, the plans are generally laid down, and the several parts of the columns, doors, windows, pediments, ceilings and bas-reliefs, are delineated, with a scale by which they may be measured and compared.

69

“In this plain,” says Mr. Halifax, “you see a large valley of salt, affording great quantities thereof, and lying about an hour’s distance from the city: and this, more probably, is the valley of salt, mentioned in 2 Sam. 8-13, where David smote the Syrians, and slew one hundred and eighty thousand men; than another, which lies but four hours from Aleppo, and has sometimes passed for it.”

70

[70] “Istakar,” says Abulfeda, quoted by Sir William Ouseley, “is one of the most ancient cities in Persia, and was formerly the royal residence: it contains vestiges of buildings so stupendous, that, like Tadmor, and Balbec, they are said to be the work of supernatural beings.”

71

A city in Persia.

72

Buckingham.

73

Diodorus; Strabo; Josephus; Appian; Zosimus; Procopius; Benjamin of Tudela; Halifax; Halley; Wood; Prideaux; Rollin; Gibbon; Bruce; Volney; Brewster; Burckhardt; Addison.

Ruins of Ancient Cities (Vol. 2 of 2)

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