Chapter IV: Part 4

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 Sea[72].

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 world[73].”

NO. XI.—PATRÆ.

“Night overtook us,” says Mr. Williams, “before we reached Patras, anciently called Patræ. But such a night! the moon was in full splendour; and while we travelled among the mysterious scenes, we were often tempted to pause and ask what could be those shadowy towers, that were perpetually arresting our attention? Nothing could be more pleasing or more romantic, than the winding of our cavalry among the projecting rocks and dismal hollows, when first a gleam of light prevailed, and then a solemn darkness veiled and softened all in sweet composure. The glow-worms, peeping from the bushes, seemed like fairies’ eyes; fireflies glanced in thousands, like the sun’s bright rays stealing on rippling waters in ebon shade; and how divine the evening star appeared, tipping the dark chain of Mount Olonos! The blackbird, too, with its train of dear associations, awakened our peculiar interest. All seemed, by their look of delight to say, ‘Sing on, sweet bird! and tell us of our absent friends and beloved country!’”

Patræ was a town of Peloponnesus, anciently called AROE.

Diana had a temple there, and a statue formed of ivory and gold, which was considered a masterpiece. Apollo also had a temple, in which was a statue of the god, raised by Icadius.

In the time of Pausanias, Patræ was also adorned with porticoes, a theatre, and an odéum; the last of which was superior to any in Greece, with one exception, viz. that of Herodes Atticus at Athens. In the lower part of the city was a temple of Bacchus, in which was an image preserved in a chest. There was also one of Ceres, with a pleasant grove and a prophetic fountain, which determined the events of illness. After supplicating the goddess with incense, the sick person is said to have appeared, living or dead, in a mirror suspended so as to touch the surface of the water[74].

Patræ was selected by Augustus as a place in which to settle some of those, who had fought with him at Actium. Some of the cities of Achaia were made tributary to the Patrenses, and they continued long to flourish after the decay of the neighbouring states.

They were rich in the monuments of art. Pausanias enumerates nineteen or twenty temples, besides statues, altars, and marble sepulchres, existing in his time in the city, the port, and the sacred groves.

Patras, though it has now recovered the destruction, was wholly destroyed by the Turks in 1770. We must, however, first state, that in 1447 it made the best defence against the Turks of any place in the Peloponnesus. In 1532 it was taken and ransacked by Doria. But of all its distresses the last was the most terrible; this was in 1770. It had lately been freed by the temporary success of Greek insurgents from the yoke of the Turks; but the appearance of the Athenians, who rushed through the passes of the isthmus to the assistance of the Mahometans, soon decided the fate of the place. An army of ten thousand, both horse and foot, entered the town through every avenue. It was not a contest, but a carnage: not a Greek capable of bearing arms was spared, and the houses were all burned to the ground[75].

In forty years, Patras recovered this calamity, and is now said to be a flourishing place; but Mr. Dodwell describes it as being composed, like all other Turkish cities, of dirty and narrow streets; with houses built of earth, baked in the sun; with eaves overhanging the streets.

The few remains, which are in Patras, are of Roman construction; and those neither grand, interesting, nor well preserved. In the castle, however, there are said to be several beautiful forms of female statues: and here we have to state an instance of barbarism, strikingly illustrative of the character of the more ignorant portion of the Turks. Some marble columns and mutilated statues having been found, a few years ago, in the garden of a Turk, he immediately broke them to pieces!

There are several large fissures in the walls of the castle, occasioned by an earthquake, about forty years ago; in which forty persons were killed in the town, and thirteen crushed by the falling of one of the turrets.

“Nothing can be,” says Mr. Hobhouse, “more pleasant than the immediate vicinity of this town; which is one blooming garden of orange and lemon plantations, of olive groves, and currant grounds. The temple and the statues, the theatre, the columns and the marble porch, have disappeared: but the valleys and the mountains, and some, not frequent, fragments, of more value than all the costly monuments of barbaric labour,—these still remain, and remind the traveller, that he treads the ground once trod by the heroes and sages of antiquity. To traverse the native country of those, whose deeds and whose wisdom have been proposed to all the polished nations of every succeeding age, as the models which they should endeavour to imitate, but must never hope to equal, with no other emotions than would arise in passing through regions never civilised, is unnatural; is impossible! No one would roam with the same indifference through the sad solitudes of Greece, and the savage wilds of America; nor is the expression of feelings, which it is the object and end of all liberal education to instil and encourage, to be derided as the unprofitable effusion of folly and affectation.”[76]

NO. XII.—PELLA.

It was a long time before the Greeks had any regard to Macedonia. The kings, living retired in woods and mountains, it seemed not to be considered as a part of Greece.

Pella was the capital of the kings of Macedon. There Philip lived and reigned, and here Alexander was born. After his death the kingdom of Macedon frequently changed masters. Philip Aridæus was succeeded by Cassander, who left three sons. Philip, the eldest, died presently after his father. The other two contended for the crown, without enjoying it; both dying soon after without issue.

Demetrius Poliorcetes, Pyrrhus, and Lysimachus, made themselves masters of all, or the greatest part of Macedonia, sometimes in conjunction, and at other times separately.

After the death of Lysimachus, Seleucus possessed himself of Macedonia, but did not long enjoy it.

Ptolemy Ceraunus having slain the preceding prince, seized the kingdom, and possessed it alone but a very short time; having lost his life in a battle with the Gauls, who had made an irruption into that country.

Sosthenes, who defeated the Gauls, reigned also but a short time.

Antigonus Gonatus, the son of Demetrius Poliorcetes, obtained peaceable possession of the kingdom of Macedonia, and transmitted these dominions to his descendants, after he had reigned thirty-four years.

He was succeeded by his son, Demetrius, who reigned ten years, and then died; leaving a son, named Philip, who was but two years old.

Antigonus Doson, reigned twelve years, in the quality of guardian to the young prince.

Philip, after the death of Antigonus, ascended the throne, at the age of fourteen years. After him, Perseus; who was defeated and taken prisoner by Paulus Æmilius; and Macedonia, in consequence of that victory, was added to the provinces of the Roman empire, B. C. 160.

For this success Paulus Æmilius was honoured with a triumph; and as a description of that ceremony will serve to diversify our pages in a very agreeable manner, we adopt the account afforded us by Plutarch. “The people erected scaffolds in the Forum and Circus, and all other parts of the city where they could best behold the pomp. The spectators were clad in white garments; all the temples were open and full of garlands and perfumes; the ways cleared and cleansed by a great many officers and tipstaffs, that drove away such as thronged the passage, or straggled up and down. This triumph lasted three days. On the first, which was scarce long enough for the sight, were to be seen the statues, pictures, and images, of an extraordinary bigness, which were taken from the enemy, drawn upon seven hundred and fifty chariots. On the second, was carried, in a great many wains, the fairest and the richest armour of the Macedonians, both of brass and steel, all newly furbished and glittering; which, although piled up with the greatest art and order, yet seemed to be tumbled on heaps carelessly and by chance; helmets were thrown on shields, coats of mail upon greaves, Cretan targets, and Thracian bucklers and quivers of arrows lay huddled among the horses’ bits; and through these appeared the points of naked swords, intermixed with long spears. All these arms were tied together in a way, that they knocked against one another as they were drawn along, and made a harsh and terrible noise; so that the very spoils of the conquered could not be beheld without dread. After these waggons loaden with armour, there followed three thousand men, who carried the silver that was coined, in seven hundred and fifty vessels, each of which weighed three talents, and was carried by four men. Others brought silver bowls, and goblets, and cups, all disposed in such order as to make the best show, and all valuable, as well for their bigness, as the thickness of their engraved work. On the third day, early in the morning, first came the trumpeters, who did not sound as they were wont in a procession or solemn entry; but such a charge as the Romans use when they encourage their soldiers to fight. Next followed young men, girt about with girdles curiously wrought, which led to the sacrifice of hundred and twenty stalled oxen, with their horns gilded, and their heads adorned with ribands and garlands; and with these were boys that carried platters of silver and gold. After this was brought the gold coin, which was divided into vessels that weighed three talents, like to those that contained the silver; they were in number fourscore wanting three. These were followed by those that brought the consecrated bowl, which Æmilius caused to be made, that weighed ten talents, and was all beset with precious stones. Then were exposed to view the cups of Antigonus and Seleucus, and such as were made after the fashion invented by Thericles, and all the gold plate that was used at Perseus’s table. Next to these came Perseus’s chariot, in which his armour was placed, and on that his diadem. And after a little intermission, the king’s children were led captives, and with them a train of nurses, masters, and governors, who all wept, and stretched forth their hands to the spectators, and taught the little infants to beg and entreat their compassion. There were two sons and a daughter, who, by reason of their tender age, were altogether insensible of the greatness of their misery; which insensibility of their condition rendered it much more deplorable; insomuch, that Perseus himself was scarce regarded as he went along, whilst pity had fixed the eyes of the Romans upon the infants, and many of them could not forbear tears; all beheld the sight with a mixture of sorrow and joy, until the children were past. After his children and their attendants, came Perseus himself, clad all in black, and wearing slippers, after the fashion of his country. He looked like one altogether astonished and deprived of reason, through the greatness of his misfortunes. Next followed a great company of his friends and familiars, whose countenances were disfigured with grief, and who testified to all that beheld them by their tears, and their continual looking upon Perseus, that it was his hard fortune they so much lamented, that they were regardless of their own. After these were carried four hundred crowns all made of gold, and sent from the cities by their respective ambassadors to Æmilius, as a reward due to his valour. Then he himself came seated on a chariot magnificently adorned (a man worthy to be beheld, even without these ensigns of power): he was clad in a garment of purple interwoven with gold, and held out a laurel branch in his right hand. All the army, in like manner, with boughs of laurel in their hands, and divided into bands and companies, followed the chariot of their commander; some singing odes (according to the usual custom) mingled with raillery; others, songs of triumph, and the praises of Æmilius’s deeds, who was admired and accounted happy by all men; yet unenvied by every one that was good.”

“The ancient capital of the kings of Macedon,” says Monsieur de Pouqueville, “does not announce itself in its desolation to the eye of the stranger, as at Athens and Corinth, by the display of the remains of its ancient splendour. Its vestiges are found on an eminence sloping to the south-west, and surrounded by marshes. In vain, however, does the traveller look for the walls of the city, for the citadel, for the dykes constructed to defend from inundation the temples, buildings, and the monuments of its grandeur. The barbarians from the North, the Romans, and the succession of ages, have destroyed even the ruins. The once powerful city of Pella is now sunk down into fragments of tombs, masses of brick and tile, and about threescore huts, inhabited by Bulgarians, with a tower garrisoned by about a dozen Albanians. Such are the present edifices, population, and military establishment of Pella, once the powerful capital of Alexander and Perseus! A low Mahommedan now commands, whip in hand, in the city where Alexander first saw the light; and the paternal seat of that monarch, whose dominions extended from the Adriatic to the Indus, was, some years ago, the property of Achmet, son of Ismael, Bey of Serres[77].”

NO. XIII.—PERGAMUS.

This was a city of Great Mysia, in Asia Minor, the capital of the kingdom of Pergamus, which was founded by a eunuch, named Philatera, who had been a servant to Docima, a commander of the troops of Antigonus.

Pergamus was assaulted by Philip, king of Macedon, in his war against Attalus the First, who had taken part with the Romans. All his efforts, however, being unavailing, he turned his rage and fury against the gods; and, not satisfied with burning their temples, he demolished statues, broke to pieces their altars, and even pulled up the stones from their foundations, that not the least footsteps of them might remain.

At the death of Attalus, his son Eumenes the Second succeeded; and it was during his reign and under his inspiration,—if such an expression may be allowed—that the celebrated library was collected[78], which makes such a figure in literary history.

The kingdom ceased to exist at the death of Attalus the Third; since that prince left it to the Roman people.

As this event was very important to the city as well as kingdom of Pergamus, we may, with propriety, enter a little into the character of the prince, who made so extraordinary a bequeathment. Historians relate, that he was scarcely on the throne before he stained it with the blood of his nearest relatives. He caused almost all those, who had served his father and his uncle with extreme fidelity, to have their throats cut; under pretence that some of them had killed his mother, who died of a disease in a very advanced age, and others his wife, who died of an incurable distemper. He caused the destruction also of wives, children, and whole families. Having committed all these enormities, he appeared no more in the city, and ate no longer in public. He put on old clothes, let his beard grow, and did every thing which persons, accused of capital crimes, used to do in those days; as if he intended thereby to acknowledge the extent of his own atrocity. From hence he proceeded to other species of folly and iniquity. He renounced the cares of state, and retired into his garden, and applied to digging the ground himself, and sowing all sorts of poisonous as well as wholesome herbs; then poisoning the good with the juice of the bad, he sent them in that manner as presents to his friends. At length he took it into his head to practise the trade of a brass-founder; and formed the model of a monument of brass to be erected to his mother. As he was casting the metal for this purpose, one hot summer’s day, he was seized with a fever, which in a few days carried him off. The principal clause in his will was expressed in these terms:—“Let the people of Rome inherit all my fortunes.” This will having been carried to Rome, the city and kingdom of Pergamus, as we have already stated, passed into a Roman province.

Pergamus gave birth to Apollodorus, the preceptor of Augustus; and Galen, next to Hippocrates the greatest physician that ever adorned the annals of medical science. It is also remarkable for having been alluded to by Tiberius, in one of his hypocritical speeches to the Roman senate, as reported in Tacitus. “I know very well,” said he, “that many men will condemn me for suffering Asia to build me a temple, as Spain at present would do: but I will give you a reason for what I have done, and declare my resolution for the future. The divine Augustus, whose actions and words are so many inviolable laws to me, having consented that the people of _Pergamus_ should dedicate a temple to him and the city of Rome, I thought I might follow so great an example; so much the rather, since the honour, intended me, was joined with the veneration paid to the senate. But as on the one hand it might have been too great a piece of severity to have denied it for once; so on the other, doubtless, it would be too great a vanity and folly, to suffer one’s self to be adored as a God, through all the provinces of the empire. Besides, it cannot but be a great diminution to the glory of Augustus, to communicate it indifferently to all the world. For my own part, I am mortal, and subject to human infirmities; I am contented with being a prince here, without being raised to the throne of a God. I protest to you, I desire this testimony may be given of me to posterity. It will be glory enough for me to be thought worthy of my ancestors; a vigilant prince, one who is insensible of fear, when the commonwealth is in danger. These are the temples and monuments which I desire to erect in your breasts: for works of marble and brass, raised to the glory of princes, are contemned by posterity as so many naked sepulchres, when their memory is condemned. I entreat heaven to give me a serenity of mind, and a spirit to discern and judge uprightly of the laws of God and man; and after my decease, I confide, my fellow-citizens and allies will preserve my memory with their blessings and praises.”

Mr. Turner found several ancient inscriptions at Pergamus. He ascended the ancient Acropolis, which is built on a mount of about two hundred feet height, overhanging the town: on the top are extensive remains of the walls both of the Roman and Venetian city. Part of the walls are built with large fluted columns, laid length-ways. Among the Roman ruins are several immense arched caves under ground, about sixty feet deep. At the top of the hill lay a large Corinthian capital, and half way down the hill a small marble column, on which is a Greek inscription, now illegible.

In a valley west of the Acropolis are considerable remains of a large Roman amphitheatre; near which is a gate with part of a wall. The arch of the gate is curiously inclined, being unequal; the only instance of such an irregularity Mr. Turner ever saw in an ancient building. There are also ruins of several Roman baths; in one of which was found a vase, which has excited a great deal of admiration. Mr. Turner thus describes it:—“It is of fine marble, and in good preservation, being only a little broken round the rim. The shape of it is a flattened globe; on the outside round the circumference of the centre are fifteen equestrian figures in high-relief; nine of these have their heads much broken, nine have their arms extended; the horses are all at full speed, and a race is probably the subject represented, as none of the figures bear arms. Five of the figures are clinging to their horses, and one appears to be falling. Nothing,” continues Mr. Turner, “can exceed the spirit of the execution; the very horses seem to breathe; above and below the figures a band, on which is engraved the pattern of a laurel leaf, surrounds the vase: a very correct engraving of which is given in the work of Choiseul-Gouffier. There are said to have been seven of these vases at Pergamus; six of which were taken to Constantinople.”

There are also in the neighbourhood of Bergamo, the present ruins of this city, six tumuli; three large and three small[79].

NO. XIV.—PERSEPOLIS.

“——I know
The wealth,” she cries, “of every urn,
In which unnumbered rubies burn,
Beneath the pillars of CHILMINAR.”

MOORE;—_Lalla Rookh_.

This city is supposed to have been founded by the famous Jemsheed, from whom it is to this day called Tuklit-e-Jemsheed;—the throne of Jemsheed; a prince, to whom Persian authors attribute the invention of many useful arts[80]; and to whom they refer the first great reform in the manners and usages of their countrymen. He, also, introduced the solar year; and ordered the first day of it, when the sun entered Aries, to be celebrated as a festival[81].

An old Persian author has left the following description of Persepolis:—“Jemsheed built a fortified palace at the foot of a hill, which bounds the fine plain of Murdasht to the north-west. The platform, on which it was built, has three faces to the plain, and one to the mountain. It is formed of hard, black granite. The elevation from the plain is ninety feet; and every stone, used in this building, is from nine to twelve feet long, and broad in proportion. There are two great flights of stairs to this palace, so easy of ascent, that a man can ride up on horseback; and on the platform a palace has been erected, part of which still remains in its original state, and part is in ruins. The palace of Jemsheed is that, now called the Chesel-Setoon, or Forty Pillars. Each pillar is formed of a carved stone, is sixty feet high, and is ornamented in a manner so delicate, that it would seem to rival upon hard granite the sculpture of a carving upon the softest wood. There is no granite like that, of which these pillars are made, to be now found in Persia: and it is unknown from whence it is brought. Some most beautiful and extraordinary figures ornament this palace; and all the pillars, which once supported the roof (for that has fallen) are composed of three pieces of stone, joined in so exquisite a manner, as to make the beholder believe, that the whole shaft is one piece. There are several figures of Jemsheed in the sculpture; in one he has an urn in his hand, in which he burns benjamin, while he stands adoring the sun; in another, he is represented as seizing the mane of a lion with one hand, while he stabs him with another.”

The remains of this city stands in one of the finest plains of Persia; being eighteen or nineteen leagues in length, and in some places two, in some four, and in others six leagues in breadth. It is watered by the great river Araxes, and by a multitude of rivers beside. Within the compass of this plain there are between one thousand and one thousand five hundred villages, without reckoning those in the mountains, all adorned with pleasant gardens, and planted with trees. The entrance of this plain, on the west side, has received as much grandeur from nature, as the city it covered could do from industry or art.

Some authors say, that to attempt any guess of the period when the city first rose from the plain, would be useless, and that the only means, now remaining, of forming any satisfactory conjectures, in regard to its origin, can only reach to the probable era of the different remaining ruins. When in Persia, however, Mr. Francklin met with a short account of the building this palace, in MS., being part of a work, called Rouzut al Sefa, or the Garden of Purity; of which he gives this as a translation:—“It is related by historians, that King Jemsheed removed the seat of government, which was formerly in the province of Sejestaun, to Fars; and that in the neighbourhood of Shirauz, having taken in a spot of ground, of twelve furlongs in length (forty-eight English miles), he there erected such a palace, that in the seven kingdoms of the world there was nothing that could equal it. The remains of that palace, and many of the pillars of it, are visible to this day; and he caused the palace to be called Chehul Minar, or Forty Pillars. Moreover, when the sun, quitting the sign Pisces in the heavens, had entered Aries, Jemsheed, having assembled all the princes, nobles, and great men of his empire, at the foot of his imperial throne, did on that day institute a grand and solemn festival; and this day was henceforth called Noo Roze, or first day of the new year (when the foundation of Persepolis was laid), at which period he commanded, from all parts of the empire, the attendance of the peasants, husbandmen, soldiers, and others, in order to prosecute the design; requesting that all, with joyful hearts and willing hands, should lend their assistance in completing the work. This numerous assembly obeyed the command of their monarch, and the building was finished with all signs of mirth and festivity.”

To this account the Persians add, that Queen Homaie, who flourished about eight hundred years after Jemsheed, added a thousand columns.

Diodorus gives some account of the workmen, that were employed in building this palace. “Cambyses, the son of Cyrus,” says he, “conquered Egypt in the third year of the seventy-third olympiad, when he pillaged the country and burnt the temples, the treasures of which the Persians carried off into Asia; and they, also, led away with them the workmen and architects of Egypt, whom they caused to build the famous palace of Persepolis, and of several other cities.” This account appears the more probable, since, as M. le Comte de Caylus is justly of opinion, they cannot be attributed to the Persians before Cyrus; since Herodotus describes the Persians of that age as a people of great simplicity; having neither temples nor altars, but worshipping Jupiter on the summits of mountains. The account, here given, is sufficient to account for the Egyptian appearance of Persepolis. There are appearances of five different buildings united in one; and each, apparently, of a different age, after the manner of the Egyptians.

Though there are doubts as to the origin of Persepolis, there are none as to the circumstance of its being destroyed by Alexander.

As the conqueror drew near the city[82], he perceived a large body of men, who presented a most lamentable picture. These were about four thousand Greeks, greatly advanced in years, who, having been taken prisoners of war, had suffered all the torments which Persian tyranny could invent. The hands of some had been cut off, the feet of others; and others again had lost their noses and ears; after which, having impressed by fire barbarous characters on their faces, the Persians had the inhumanity to keep them as so many laughing-stocks, with which they sported perpetually. They appeared like so many shadows rather than men. Alexander could not refrain from tears at this sight; and as they unanimously besought him to commiserate their condition, he bade them, with the utmost tenderness, not to despond, and assured them that they should again see their country. This, however, the Greeks did not desire; being unwilling to be seen by their former companions in the dreadful state in which they were. They prayed the king, therefore, to let them remain where they were, but to relieve their awful condition. This Alexander did; but he was so enraged at what he had seen, that he set the city on fire soon after. The other account is, that the conqueror called his generals together, and represented to them that no city in the world had been more fatal to the Greeks than Persepolis, the ancient residence of the Persian monarchs, and capital of their empire. For that it was from thence all those mighty armies poured, which had overflowed Greece; and whence Darius, and afterwards Xerxes, had carried the fire-brand of the most accursed war which had laid waste the best part of Europe; and therefore it was incumbent on them to revenge the manes of their ancestors.

Animated by this, the soldiers force their way into the city, put all the men to the sword, and rifle and carry away every man’s goods and estate; amongst which was abundance of rich and costly furniture and ornaments of all sorts. There were hurried away, here and there, vast quantities of silver, and no less of gold, great numbers of rich garments, some of purple, and others embroidered with gold; all of which, says Diodorus, became a plentiful prey to the ravenous soldiers. For though every place was full of rich spoil, yet the covetousness of the Macedonians was insatiable. They were even so eager in plundering, that they fought one another with drawn swords; and many, who were conceived to have got a larger share than the rest, were killed in the quarrel. Some things, which were of extraordinary value, they divided with their swords, and each took a share. Others, in a rage, cut off the hands of such as laid hold of a thing that was in dispute. They first ravished the women as they were in their jewels and rich attire, and then sold them for slaves. The riches are said to have amounted to no less than eighteen millions sterling!

Such is the account left us by Diodorus. He then goes on to describe the destruction of the temple or palace, burned down by Alexander. “Alexander,” says he, “made a great feast for the entertainment of his friends in commemoration of his victory, and offered magnificent sacrifices to the gods. At this feast were entertained women, who prostituted their bodies for hire; when the cups went so high to drunkenness and debauchery, that many were drunk and mad. Among the rest there was a courtesan, named Thais, an Athenian, then mistress to Ptolemy, afterwards king of Egypt, who said in a gay tone of voice, ‘That it would be a matter of inexpressible joy to her, were she permitted, masked as she then was, and in order to end the festival nobly, to burn the magnificent palace of Xerxes, who had burned Athens; and so set it on fire with her own hand, in order that it might be said in all parts of the world, that the women, who had followed Alexander in his expedition to Asia, had taken much better revenge on the Persians, for the many calamities they had brought upon the Grecians, than all the generals who had fought for them both by sea and land.’

“This spreading abroad, and coming to the ears of the young men, presently one cries out, ‘Come on; bring firebrands!’ and so incites the rest to fire the citadel, to revenge that impiety the Persians had committed in destroying the temples of the Grecians. At this, others with joy set up a shout; but said that so brave an exploit belonged only to Alexander himself to perform. The king, stirred up at these words, embraced the proposition; upon which, as many as were present left their cups and leaped upon the table, and said that they would now celebrate a victorious festival to Bacchus. Thereupon, multitudes of firebrands were presently got together; and all the women that played on musical instruments, which were at the feast, were called for; and then the king, with songs, pipes, and flutes, led the way to this expedition, contrived and managed by this courtesan, Thais, who, next after the king, threw the first fire-brand into the palace. This precedent was presently followed by the rest. The fire once raised, there was no stopping it; but Alexander soon repented what was doing, and gave orders for extinguishing it; but this being too late, the palace was burned, and remains now nearly in the same state it was left at the conclusion of the fire.”

According to Arrian, Alexander burned the palace of the Persian king much against the will of Parmenio, who exhorted him to leave it untouched. To which Alexander answered, that he was resolved to revenge the ancient injuries, Greece had received from the Persians; who, when they marched into Greece, burned its _temples_, and committed many other barbarous devastations.

This, we think, is one reason why the building burned must have been a temple, and not a palace. The Persians had burned the _temples_ of Greece, therefore Alexander burned the _temple_ of the Persians. Besides, as the feast was held in the palace, it is not very likely that the master of the feast should have burned the place, in which he was not only then feasting, but in which he was to sleep on the very night of the conflagration; and that it was not destroyed is evident from the circumstance, recorded by Strabo and Arrian—that Alexander inhabited the royal palace at Persepolis after his return from India. Added to which, it is certain that there is, at this time, no appearance or marks of fire on any part of the ruins.

In respect to these ruins, it has been well observed, that magnificent columns, portals, and other architectural decorations, mark this spot as the site of a splendid “palace;” while the style of the sculptures and the inscriptions, many of them in the single-headed character, found only at this place, Nineveh, Babylon, Susa, and Ván, proves them to be of a very high antiquity. Mr. Kinneir, however, says they are generally admitted to be the remains of the “palace,” destroyed by Alexander; and the striking resemblance of the building, as it exists, to the account given of Persepolis by Diodorus, is, in his opinion, sufficient to remove any doubt, that may exist upon the subject. We confess that such is not our impression.

Those who regard the ruins as being the remains of a Persian temple, insist that the sculptured subjects, as well as the style of architecture, resemble, in many particulars, those of Egypt: among which may be mentioned the figures, divided by trees, the sphinxes, the vases and chains, the domes and architraves, the subterranean passages in the tombs, the sarcophagi and urns, and the well, twenty-five feet deep and fifteen square. The sculpture at Persepolis was also painted mostly in blue, a favourite colour in Egypt; but sometimes in black and in yellow. For these remarks we are indebted to Mr. Buckingham.

According to Arrian, it was the _castle_ of Persepolis which Alexander burned. In Mr. Buckingham’s opinion, however, the ruins now seen correspond neither with those of a palace, nor of a castle; they were, therefore, according to him, not those of the edifice burned by Alexander at all; for on all these remains, as we have before stated, no mark of fire is to be traced, which could not be the case if this had been the principal agent used in its destruction.

The opinion, that these ruins are the remains of the palace, is not on the authority of all history, but on the assertion merely of Quintus, Curtius and Diodorus. The whole story as to the burning, is said to have been copied from a Greek writer, named Clitarchus[83].

Though there are no remains of a city now at Persepolis, nor in any part of the plain in which it is situated; certain it is, that the city was not destroyed by Alexander; for it was a very important place for many centuries after.

Curtius, therefore, is guilty of an error in saying that the city was so far from being rebuilt, that unless the river Araxes ran near it, there are no signs to guess where it stood; for neither Arrian nor Strabo, nor even Diodorus, whom Curtius commonly copies, acquaint us with any thing but the burning of the palace.

The first book of Maccabees says that there was a rich temple at Persepolis; and, the second, that Antiochus Epiphanes determined to pillage it. Alexander, therefore, could not have destroyed it; for it is highly improbable, from the history of those times, that so laboured and magnificent a work should have been rebuilt and restored in the short period between Alexander and the Syrian king; viz.—160 years. That prince formed the design of pillaging both “a temple,” and the city.

Though Persepolis long survived the palace of Jemsheed, its inhabitants are said to have regarded with unextinguishable hatred the people by whom they were conquered; and, as if inspired by those fragments of former glory, with which they were surrounded, they maintained a character for pride and courage, that was not entirely subdued, till several centuries after the Arabians first overran Persia.

Its subsequent history has been summed up by Mr. Fraser. “It was among the earliest conquests of Ardeshir Babegan; Shepoor II. made it his residence; Yesdigird I. held his court there; and Hoormuz II., who reigned at the close of the sixth century, passed two months every year in it. In the succeeding age, however, it ceased to be a royal residence; for Khoosroo Purveez bestowed the government on one of his favourites; and it was here that the last of the Sassanian kings lay concealed, when called to the throne, A. D. 632. Twelve years afterwards, it capitulated to the Mohammedans; but the people, having slain their foreign governor, were all put to the sword. The city was ultimately destroyed by Sumcaneah-u-Dowlan, and the fanatical Arabs, A. D. 982. Such,” concludes Mr. Fraser, “is the sketch of the latter days of Istakhar[84], (the only name by which the city is recognised by the native Persian historians); but the question, who was its founder? and who raised the mighty fabrics, of which the ruins still astonish the traveller? yet remain unanswered.”

The authors who have described these ruins are, Garcias de Silva Figueroa, Pietra de la Valle, Sir John Chardin, Le Brun, Francklin, Niebuhr, Morier, Buckingham, Porter, Ouseley, and Fraser.

It has been truly said, that we cannot proceed a step in Persia, without encountering some monument of the cruelty of conquerors and of human vicissitudes. These ruins have been variously described; insomuch that, had travellers not agreed in respect to the latitude and longitude, one would be tempted to suspect, that they had visited different ruins. Our account will therefore be desultory: for to give a full and regular one would, without drawings, be of little available use.

“It is very difficult to give any detailed account of the ruins of this celebrated place,” says Mr. Buckingham. “There is no temple, as at Thebes, at Palmyra, or at Balbec, sufficiently predominant over all other surrounding objects to attract the chief attention, and furnish of itself sufficient matter for description and observation. Here, all is broken and detached fragments, extremely numerous, and each worthy of attention; but so scattered and disjointed, as to give no perfect idea of the whole. Its principal feature is, that it presents an assemblage of tall, slender, and isolated pillars, and separate door-ways and sanctuaries, spread over a large platform, elevated, like a fortification, from the level of the surrounding plain.”