LIKE an enchanted island rising suddenly before the vision in mid-ocean, so did superb Palmyra of the East burst upon the sight in the midst of an ocean of sands, and cause the tired traveller, who had toiled painfully across the weary wastes of the Syrian desert, to pause spellbound and enraptured before the picture of unrivalled loveliness which suddenly met his gaze, as he looked towards the high land and waving groves of palm-trees which marked the site of the magnificent Palmyra, “the Tadmor in the wilderness,” said to have been founded by Solomon as a resting-place for caravans in the midst of the trackless desert.

Over sixteen hundred years ago this famous city flourished, in the zenith of its gorgeous magnificence. Even Rome paid homage to its power and beauty, and Roman emperors thought it not beneath them to seek alliance with the illustrious sovereign of this alluring realm.

Flanked by high hills on the east, the city filled the entire plain below, as far as the eye could reach, both north and south. Studded with groups of lofty palm-trees shooting up among its temples and palaces of glistening white marble, while magnificent structures of the purest marble adorned the groves which surrounded the city proper for miles in every direction, it appeared at the same time all city and all country; and from a little distance one could not determine the line which divided country from city.

The prospect seemed to the beholder the fair Elysian Fields, for it appeared almost too glorious for the mere earth-born; while from its midst the vast Temple of the Sun stretched upwards its thousand columns of glistening marble towards the heavens, which bent above them its dazzlingly blue vault flooded with the golden effulgence of the mid-day sun, or glowing with the rich tints of an oriental sunset.

This renowned Temple of the Sun was a marvel of man’s architectural skill and genius. It was of dazzling white marble, and of Ionic design. Around the central portion of the building rose slender pyramids,—pointed obelisks,—domes of the most graceful proportions, columns, arches, and lofty towers, innumerable in number, and of matchless beauty. The genius of Greece had contributed to the beauty of this Palm City of the desert, for on every side it was adorned with Grecian art and architecture.

Nor was the Temple of the Sun its only marvel. About half a Roman mile from the temple was situated the Long Portico. This building was devoted to pleasure and trade. Amongst its interminable ranges of Corinthian columns the busy multitudes passed in ceaseless processions, pursuing their various avocations or seeking amusement. Here the merchants assembled, and exhibited their rich stuffs gathered from all parts of the known world. There, also, the mountebanks resorted, and amused the crowds of idle rich with their fantastic tricks. Strangers from all the known countries might have been seen, attired in their varied and picturesque national costumes. A continuous throng of natives from all climes passed to and fro, along the spacious corridors, between the graceful, fluted columns surmounted by the rich entablature whereon were carved the achievements of Alexander.

Nor were these the only points of interest in this fascinating city. The royal palace rose in the midst, so vast, and with so many shining turrets and massive towers, that it seemed a city within a city.

Palmyra was laid out in shady avenues of luxuriant palm-trees, and adorned on either side with magnificent structures of white marble, or of stone equal in dazzling whiteness. Public gardens, groves, and woods stretched beyond the limits of the city, far as the eye could reach; and amidst these cool and green retreats, elegant villas of the rich and luxurious Palmyrenes were scattered so thickly that Palmyra, the Beautiful, the Palm Grove, seemed placed like a gem of matchless charms in the red-gold setting of the desert sands.

Along the roads leading to the city, elephants, camels, and dromedaries laden with merchandise, or gorgeously caparisoned, bearing some noted personage, in strange and brilliant costume, added picturesque dashes of varied color to the landscape.

Just without the walls of the city were the vast arches of the aqueduct which supplied the inhabitants with a river of purest water.

The streets presented a never-ending scene of varied beauty. The buildings of marble; the clean, paved streets; the frequent fountains of water throwing into the perfumed air hundreds of gleaming jets; temples, palaces, and gardens on every side, entranced the eye with their alluring beauty. Arabian horses with jewelled housings, and riders of noble rank; then anon a troop of royal cavalry, with clashing arms and clanging trumpets; with a motley population of Palmyrenes, Persians, Parthians, Arabians, Egyptians, Jews, and Romans, with their varied costumes of glowing colors; here mounted on a camel; there riding a stately elephant; some seated in chariots drawn by white Arabian steeds of peerless beauty, caparisoned with gold and jewels if their owners belonged to royal families,—all these objects fascinated the gaze of the bewildered stranger and riveted the attention of the lover of artistic effects.

Such was beautiful Palmyra in the time of its famous queen, Zenobia. And not less dazzlingly beautiful is the fair queen herself, as she rides through the streets of her royal city, where her adoring subjects flock to do her homage.

See! she is returning from one of her expeditions to her distant provinces, and is just entering her loved Palmyra. As soon as the near approach of their queen is made known to the people, the entire populace flock to the walls to welcome her return. Troops of horse, variously caparisoned, lead the queen’s procession, followed by a train of elephants and camels with gay trappings and heavily loaded. Then come the body-guard of the queen, clad in complete armor of steel, surrounding the royal chariot, which is drawn by six snowy Arabian steeds with gold-mounted harness and bearing waving plumes upon their high-arched heads. As the mid-day sun shines with effulgent splendor upon the scene, the flashing of spears and corselets and burnished chariots and gilded harness sparkle like diamond points. Seated with stately grace in the royal chariot, behold Zenobia! queen of this resplendent realm and mistress of many kingdoms! while the air resounds with the acclamations of the vast multitudes: “Long live the great Zenobia! The blessing of all the gods on our good queen, the mother of her people!”

Right royal is the bearing of the beautiful Zenobia, well fitted in mien and manner for her regal state. Imperial is her brow, and commanding are her dark, lustrous eyes. But she is more than haughty queen; she is a loving woman and a devoted mother, and she looks upon her subjects with the same tender glance of sympathetic regard that she casts upon the beautiful young princess seated by her side. A helmet-crown rests upon her luxurious black hair, which is partly confined in braided locks and partly floating in the breeze. A rich tunic of golden tissue adorns her form, and a mantle of purple silk, fringed with tassels of sparkling jewels and clasped with a dazzling diamond whose value would purchase a province, gracefully enshrouds her left shoulder, leaving her right arm bared above the elbow, where the swelling curves were clasped by shining circlets of glittering gems. Her complexion is dark, though not swarthy, for the smooth brunette skin gleams with ivory tints and deepens to crimson in her rounded cheeks, which time has not wrinkled, even though she has been a matron for many years. When she smiles in loving benediction on her adoring subjects, her red lips part over teeth of dazzling whiteness, and her voice thrills the listener with its rare cadences of melodious tones.

The Palmyrenes were Egyptian in their origin and customs, Persian in their luxurious tastes, Grecian in their language, literature, and architecture. Zenobia claimed descent from the Macedonian kings of Egypt. She fully equalled in beauty her famous ancestor, Cleopatra, and far surpassed her in character and valor. Some accounts state that she was the daughter of an Arab chief, Amrou, the son of Dharb, the son of Hassan; though other writers claim that Zenobia was a Jewess.

She was possessed of rare intellectual powers; was well versed in Latin, Greek, Syriac, and the Egyptian languages. The celebrated Longinus was her instructor, and the works of Homer and Plato were familiar to her, and she wrote with ease in Greek. She compiled an oriental history for her own use, and found constant delight in the arts and sciences when not engaged in the severer pursuits of war.

Zenobia married Odenathus, a prince of great valor and ambition, who was chief of several tribes of the Desert. He rapidly made himself master of the East, and became so powerful that the Romans made him their ally, giving him the title of Augustus and General of the East. He gained several victories, as the ally of Rome, over Sapor, shah of Persia, and twice pursued his armies, even to the gates of Ctesiphon or Ispahan, the Persian capital.

But in the midst of his victories Odenathus was assassinated at EmÆsa, while engaged in hunting. His murderer was his nephew, MÆonius. Zenobia revenged the death of her husband by destroying MÆonius, and as her three sons were too young to rule, she first exercised supreme power in their name, but later, declared herself queen of the dominions of her husband, and assumed the royal diadem, with the titles of Augusta and Queen of the East.

Zenobia was remarkable for her courage, prudence, and fortitude, as well as for her intellectual gifts. No danger unnerved her; no fatigue dismayed her.

Her husband, Odenathus, had been a great lover of the chase, and Zenobia always accompanied him upon these expeditions. Disdaining a covered carriage, she rode on horseback in military habit, and pursued with ardor the exercise of hunting, unterrified, though the game might be lions, panthers, and other wild beasts of the desert.

The success of Odenathus in his various wars was in a large measure to be attributed to the marvellous foresight, fortitude, and prudence of Zenobia.

She did not appear to be possessed of those petty passions and weaknesses which female sovereigns have so often displayed. She governed her realm with the most judicious judgment and consummate policy. If it was expedient to punish, she could calm her woman’s heart into manlike stoicism, and silence the promptings of pity. If, on the other hand, it were justice to pardon, she could quell within herself all signs of personal resentment, and display a magnanimous forgiveness.

Though on state occasions she clothed herself and her court with regal magnificence and lavished money with a bountiful hand, apparently regardless of the cost, yet so strict was her economy in all her governmental affairs that she was sometimes accused of avarice. She spent immense sums for the adornment of her beautiful Palmyra, and gathered around her philosophers, poets, artists, and the great and rich from many lands.

As a queen, she was adored by her subjects and admiringly feared by rival sovereigns. As a woman, she was peerless among her cotemporaries, and illustrious among the women of all times. Possessed of striking and alluring beauty, she yet won more admirers for the beauties of her intellect, rather than for her bewitching face and stately form. And her voice, like that of Cleopatra, so charmed the ear by its delicious cadences, that the echo of its melodious tones has been wafted down the ages. As a wife and mother, Zenobia stands far above the dazzling Cleopatra, though she is said to have modelled her warlike exploits after that renowned Egyptian enchantress of the Nile; but she did not emulate her wicked coquetries, nor copy her weaknesses.

Arabia, Armenia, and Persia solicited her alliance, and she added Egypt to the dominions of Odenathus. The emperor of Rome, Gallienus, refused to acknowledge Zenobia’s claim to the sovereignty of her late husband’s dominions, and twice sent an army against her, but was twice defeated by the valorous and undaunted Zenobia. Her dominions extended from the Euphrates to the Mediterranean, and included Jerusalem, Antioch, Damascus, and other cities famed in history. Zenobia, however, made the beautiful Palmyra her place of residence, making expeditions to her other provinces. Her three sons, Timolaus, Herennianus, and Vaballathus, were educated with care; and they were attired in the Roman purple of the CÆsars and brought up according to Roman manners. The appointments of her palaces were gorgeously magnificent, and her style of living most regal; she affected great splendor in her attire, always appearing in royal state, dazzling with jewels, unless at the head of her army or riding in the chase, when she wore military habits, which, however, sparkled with gems; and though an apparent amazon, she was a woman of dazzling beauty and most fascinating presence, and always appeared before her council of war in regal pomp, which secured her an homage from her subjects and her soldiers which amounted almost to a worship which partook of the veneration and admiration accorded to a goddess. She was pure in her manners to the utmost refinement of delicacy, and was as much adored for her womanly virtues as she was admired for her warlike valor. At length the fierce Aurelian became emperor of Rome. He was highly indignant that a woman should dare to claim proud Rome as her ally, and defy his power. Having subdued all his competitors in the West, he turned his arms against this powerful queen of the East, who dared to call herself Augusta and clothe her sons in Roman royal purple. Proudly the Roman emperor approached the dominions of the haughty Zenobia. Rumor announced his coming, and the dauntless queen of Palmyra prepared to meet him. Neither Roman legions nor Roman emperors made her brave spirit quail or her woman’s heart grow faint.

When the first Roman herald reached Palmyra to announce the coming of the Roman ambassadors who had been sent by Aurelian to demand her submission, Zenobia was related to have been at her hunting-villa just without the city. It was in the forests lying to the north of this summer palace that she pursued the wild boar, tiger, or panther in the daring chase. As the messengers of Aurelian arrived at the palace gates, the queen had just returned from the hunt. Never did she look more regal. She was mounted upon a white Arabian steed of peerless beauty, caparisoned with harness gleaming with jewels. Zenobia was leaning upon her long hunting-spear. She wore upon her head a Parthian hunting-cap adorned with a long white plume, fastened by a glittering diamond worth a king’s ransom; her costume was also Parthian, and was most perfectly adapted to display the exquisite proportions of her graceful form. Her dark eyes were flashing with scarcely less brilliancy than the diamond which adorned her brow, as she sat her horse with regal dignity, and her countenance betokened her dauntless pride and warlike courage as the messengers of her enemy were announced. Not waiting to dismount, she exclaimed with tones of imperial command, “Bid the servants of your emperor draw near, and we will hear them.”

Announced by trumpets and followed by their train, the ambassadors of Aurelian advanced to the spot where Zenobia calmly awaited them, surrounded by her royal attendants.

“Speak your errand,” said the queen.

“For a long series of years,” replied the ambassador, “the wealth of Egypt and the East flowed into the Roman treasury. That stream has been diverted to Palmyra. Egypt, Syria, Bithynia, and Mesopotamia were dependents upon Rome, as Roman provinces. The queen of Palmyra was once but the queen of Palmyra; she is now queen of Egypt and of the East,—Augusta of the Roman Empire,—her sons styled and arrayed as CÆsars. By whatever consent of former emperors these honors have been won or permitted, it is not, we are required to say, with the consent of Aurelian. While he honors the greatness and genius of Zenobia, he holds essential to his honor and the glory of the Roman world, that the Roman Empire should again be restored to the limits which bounded it in the reigns of the Antonines.”

“You have spoken,” replied Zenobia to the ambassadors, with a calm voice and steady glance, “with plainness, as it became a Roman to do”; and then her eye flashed with proud disdain as she drew her stately form up to still more lofty proportions, and she continued: “Now hear me, and as you hear, so report to him who sent you. Tell Aurelian that what I am, I have made myself; that the empire which hails me queen has been moulded into what it is by Odenathus and Zenobia; it is no gift, but an inheritance, a conquest, and a possession; it is held, not by favor, but by right of birth and power; and when he will give away possessions or provinces which he claims as his, or Rome’s, for the asking, I will give away Egypt and the Mediterranean coast. Tell him, that as I have lived a queen, so, the gods helping, I will die a queen; that the last moment of my reign and my life shall be the same. If he is ambitious, let him be told that I am ambitious too—ambitious of wider empire, of an unsullied fame, and of my people’s love. Tell him I do not speak of gratitude on the part of Rome; but that posterity will say that the power which stood between Rome and Persia, and saved the empire in the East, which avenged the death of Valerian, and twice pursued the Persian king, even to the gates of his own Ctesiphon, deserved some fairer acknowledgment from an ally whom its arms had thus befriended than the message you now bring from your Roman emperor.”

With proud dignity the ambassadors were then dismissed, and Zenobia prepared to defend her rights and kingdom. Nor did she indolently permit the emperor of the West to approach the gates of her fair Palmyra. With brave rashness she went forth to meet him, and two great battles were fought, one near Antioch, and the second near EmÆsa. In both these contests the brave Zenobia herself led her troops to the onslaught, giving the second place in command to her valiant warrior Zabdas, whose great prowess in arms had hitherto made him a successful general. But in both these battles Zenobia was defeated, and she was forced to fall back within the gates of Palmyra. Here she made a brave and last defence. And again she boldly defied Aurelian from her towers, as she had already defied him on the field of battle. So great was her courage and so valiant her defence, that Aurelian was obliged to admit her claims of being a most powerful and determined foe, and thus wrote of her: “Those who speak with contempt of the war I am waging against a woman, are ignorant of both 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 and military engines.”

So doubtful was Aurelian of the result of the siege, that he offered terms of an advantageous capitulation to the brave queen of Palmyra; but she indignantly rejected his proposals in a famous Greek epistle, in which she defied his power. Zenobia, expecting reinforcement from her provinces, and thinking that Aurelian, being encamped in a desert, could not long hold out, especially as he was constantly harassed by bands of Arabs attacking his army in the rear, felt confident that the siege would not be prolonged. But Aurelian, incensed by her haughty letter, roused himself to greater vigilance, cut off all her supplies as the several companies of her allies approached, and found means to subsist his army even in the desert. At length the city could hold out no longer. Zenobia determined to fly, and endeavor to raise succor for her beloved city in her surrounding provinces. Such, indeed, was the reason assigned for this apparent cowardice on her part, which was so contrary to her previous record of undaunted bravery. Mounted on the fleetest of her dromedaries, she succeeded in reaching the banks of the Euphrates, but she was pursued and taken captive, and brought into the presence of the Roman emperor. Aurelian sternly demanded how she dared thus defy the power of Rome. Still every inch a queen, and yet not forgetting a wise policy, she replied, “Because I disdained to acknowledge as my masters such men as Aureolus and Gallienus. To Aurelian I submit, as my conqueror and my sovereign.”

While this conference was being held in the tent of the Roman Emperor, the Roman soldiers came rushing in a riotous mass, demanding the instant death of Zenobia. But notwithstanding her previous bravery and fortitude, history records that, in this moment of terrible danger, Zenobia did not display equal courage to the famous Cleopatra, who resolved to die rather than submit to her Roman conqueror. It is stated that Zenobia laid the blame of her obstinate resistance upon the aged Longinus and others of her chief counsellors, in order to save her own life. Whether this were indeed the truth or not, the facts are that the great philosopher Longinus, and other chief men of Palmyra, were put to death by Aurelian, and the life of Zenobia was saved. But for this seeming betrayal of her most faithful subjects, Zenobia may not have been to blame; for the desire to preserve the haughty Queen of the East, in order that she might grace his coming triumph in Rome, was a sufficient reason to account for Aurelian’s conduct in saving her life, and putting to death her chief men, without it being necessary to ascribe to such a brave and noble woman as Zenobia such ignoble and cowardly actions. That she did not take her own life like Cleopatra, but bore her reverses with calm dignity, appears in these more enlightened days to be surely more to her credit than to her dishonor; and in the light of modern civilization, the picture of the beautiful Zenobia, walking with firm step and imperial bearing among the captives of the Roman conqueror, excites deeper feelings of admiration than Cleopatra, the suicide, lying dead upon her royal bed of state.

Palmyra being conquered, Aurelian seized upon its vast treasures, and leaving there a Roman garrison, he started to return to Europe, carrying with him Zenobia and her family. But having reached the Hellespont, tidings came to him that the Palmyrenes had revolted. Aurelian immediately retraced his steps, and arriving before Palmyra, he ruthlessly destroyed that beautiful city, sparing neither old men, women, nor children, in his bloody work of total destruction. The gorgeous buildings were soon smoking heaps of ruins; and though he afterwards repented of his wild fury, and sought to rebuild in part a few of its magnificent structures, it was too late. Palmyra became desolate; and until about a century ago, when some English travellers discovered its ruins, the very site where once stood this beautiful Palm City of the Desert had been completely forgotten.

Upon Aurelian’s return to Rome, his triumph was celebrated with extraordinary gorgeousness and pomp. Vast numbers of elephants, tigers, and other strange beasts from the conquered countries presented a novel sight to the wondering Romans. Sixteen hundred gladiators, who were devoted to the cruel contests of the amphitheatre, followed the line of strange beasts. Then appeared the ensigns of the conquered nations, and the magnificent plate, jewels, and royal robes of the Queen of the East were displayed in immense profusion. Ambassadors of Æthiopia, Arabia, Persia, Bactriana, India, and China, attired in their rich and striking national costumes, revealed the extent of the Roman power. After these came the long lines of captives, including Goths, Vandals, Sarmatians, Alemanni, Franks, Gauls, Syrians, and Egyptians. But every eye was riveted upon the famous Zenobia, Queen of the East. Arrayed in her royal robes, and covered with her blazing jewels, the weight of which was so overpowering as to cause her almost to faint under the burden, she walked before her own magnificent chariot, in which she had hoped to enter Rome as a conquerer, rather than thus walk a captive. Her arms were bound with fetters of gold, which were so heavy that slaves were obliged to assist in supporting them on either side. But though her delicate form was bent by the weight of her galling fetters,—gold though they were,—her proud eyes were undimmed by tears, and her queenly head was carried with imperial grace.

There are two accounts of the after-fate of Zenobia. Some writers state that she starved herself to death, refusing to outlive her own downfall and the ruin of her country. But according to other records, the Emperor Aurelian bestowed upon her a magnificent villa at Tivoli, where she resided in great honor, her daughters marrying into noble Roman families, while her youngest son became king of a part of Armenia.