The mound of Kalah Sherghat having been very imperfectly examined during my former residence in Assyria[96], I had made arrangements to return to the ruins. All my preparations were complete by the 22d of February, and I floated down the Tigris on a raft laden with provisions and tools necessary for at least a month’s residence and work in the desert. I had expected to find Mohammed Seyyid, one of my Jebour Sheikhs, with a party of the Ajel, his own particular tribe, ready to accompany me. The Bedouins, however, were moving to the north, and their horsemen had already been seen in the neighbourhood of Kalah Sherghat. Nothing would consequently induce the Ajel, who were not on the best terms with the Shammar Arabs, to leave their tents, and, after much useless discussion, I was obliged to give up the journey.

Awad, with a party of Jehesh, had been for nearly six weeks exploring the mounds in the plain of Shomamok, the country of the Tai Arabs, and had sent to tell me that he had found remains of buildings, vases, and inscribed bricks. I determined, therefore, to spend a few days in inspecting his excavations, and in carefully examining those ruins which I had only hastily visited on my previous journey. I accordingly started from Nimroud on the 2d of March, accompanied by Hormuzd, the doctor, and Mr. Rolland. We descended the Tigris to its junction with the Zab, whose waters, swollen by the melting of the snows in the Kurdish mountains, were no longer fordable. Near the confluence of the streams, and on the southern bank of the Zab, is the lofty mound of Keshaf, where are the remains of a deserted fort, commanding the two rivers. It was garrisoned a few years ago by an officer and a company of irregular troops from Baghdad, who were able from this stronghold to check the inroads of the Bedouins, as well as of the Tai and other tribes, who plundered the Mosul villages. Since it has been abandoned, the country has again been exposed to the incursions of these marauders, who now cross the rivers unmolested, and lay waste the cultivated districts.

The tents of the Howar were about five miles from Keshaf. Since my last visit, he had become once more the acknowledged chief of the Tai. Faras had, however, withdrawn from his rival, and, followed by his own adherents, had moved to the banks of the Lesser Zab. The Shammar Bedouins, encouraged by the division in the tribe, had, only three days before our visit, crossed the Tigris and fallen suddenly upon the Kochers, or Kurdish wanderers, of the Herki clans. These nomades descend annually from the highest mountain regions to winter in the rich meadows of Shomamok. They pay a small tribute to the Tai for permission to pasture their flocks, and for protection against the desert Arabs. The Howar was consequently bound to defend them; but in endeavoring to do so, had been beaten with the loss of forty of their finest mares.We found the Howar much cast down and vexed by his recent misfortunes. The chiefs of the tribe were with him, in gloomy consultation over their losses. A Bedouin, wrapped in his ragged cloak, was seated listlessly in the tent. He had been my guest the previous evening at Nimroud, and had announced himself on a mission from the Shammar to the Tai, to learn the breed of the mares which had been taken in the late conflict. His message might appear, to those ignorant of the customs of the Arabs, one of insult and defiance. But he was on a common errand, and although there was blood between the tribes, his person was as sacred as that of an ambassador in any civilised community. After a battle or a foray, the tribes who have taken horses from the enemy will send an envoy to ask their breed, and a person so chosen passes from tent to tent unharmed, hearing from each man, as he eats his bread, the descent and qualities of the animal he may have lost.

Amongst men who attach the highest value to the pure blood of their horses, and who have no written pedigree, for amongst the Bedouins documents of this kind do not exist, such customs are necessary. The descent of a horse is preserved by tradition, and the birth of a colt is an event known to the whole tribe. It would be considered disgraceful to the character of a true Bedouin to give false testimony on such a point, and his word is usually received with implicit confidence.

The morning following, though the Howar and the Arabs refused to accompany me, I set off for the ruins, which are in the deserted district between the Karachok range and the river Tigris. The plains in which they are situated are celebrated for the richness of their pastures, and are sought in spring by the Tai and the Kurdish Kochers. We kept as much as possible in the broken country at the foot of the mountain to escape observation. The wooded banks of the Tigris and the white dome of the tomb of Sultan Abdallah were faintly visible in the distance, and a few artificial mounds rose in the plains. The pastures were already fit for the flocks, and luxuriant grass furnished food for our horses amidst the ruins.

The principal mound of Mokhamour is of considerable height, and ends in a cone. It is apparently the remains of a platform built of earth and sun-dried bricks, originally divided into several distinct stages or terraces. On one side are the traces of an inclined ascent, or of a flight of steps, once leading to the summit. It stands in the centre of a quadrangle of lower mounds, about 480 paces square. I could find no remains of masonry, nor any fragments of inscribed bricks, pottery, or sculptured alabaster.

The ruins are near the southern spur of Karachok, where that mountain, after falling suddenly into low broken hills, again rises into a solitary ridge, called Bismar, stretching to the Lesser Zab, Mokhamour being between the two rivers. These detached limestone ridges, running parallel to the great range of Kurdistan, such as the Makloub, Sinjar, Karachok, and Hamrin, are a peculiar feature in the geological structure of the country lying between the ancient province of Cilicia and the Persian Gulf.

Having examined the ruins, taken bearings of the principal landmarks, and allowed our horses to refresh themselves in the high grass, I returned to the encampment of the Tai. A ride of three hours next morning, across the spurs of the Karachok, brought us to the ruins of Abou-Jerdeh, near which we had found the tents of Faras on our last visit. The mound is of considerable size, and on its summit are traces of foundations in stone masonry; but I could find no remains to connect it with the Assyrian period.We breakfasted with our old host Wali Beg, and then continued our journey to one of the principal artificial mounds of Shomamok, called the “Kasr,” or palace. The pastures were covered with the flocks of the Arabs, the Kochers, and the Disdayi Kurds. We crossed a broad and deep valley, called the Kordereh, and encamped for the night at the foot of the Kasr, on the banks of a rivulet called As-Surayji, which joins the Kordereh below Abou-Jerdeh, near a village named “Salam Aleik,” or “Peace be with you.”

The mound is both large and lofty, and is surrounded by the remains of an earthen embankment. It is divided almost into two distinct equal parts by a ravine or watercourse, where an ascent probably once led from the plain to the edifice on the summit of the platform. Awad had opened several deep trenches and tunnels in the mound, and had discovered chambers, some with walls of plain sun-dried bricks, others panelled round the lower part with slabs of reddish limestone, about 3½ or 4 feet high. He had also found inscribed bricks, with inscriptions declaring that Sennacherib had here built a city, or rather palace, for the name of which, as written in the cuneiform characters, I am not able to suggest a reading. I observed a thin deposit, or layer, of pebbles and rubble above the remains of the Assyrian building, and about eight feet beneath the surface, as at Kouyunjik.

From the summit of the Kasr of Shomamok I took bearings of twenty-five considerable mounds, the remains of ancient Assyrian population;[97] the largest being in the direction of the Lesser Zab. Wishing to examine several ruins in the neighbourhood I left our tents early on the following morning, and rode to the mound of Abd-ul-Azeez, about eight or nine miles distant, and on the road between Baghdad and Arbil. The latter town, with its castle perched upon a lofty artificial mound, all that remains of the ancient city of Arbela, which gave its name to one of the greatest battles the world ever saw, was visible during the greater part of our day’s ride. The plain abounds in villages and canals for irrigation, supplied by the As-Surayji. The soil thus irrigated produces cotton, rice, tobacco, millet, melons, cucumbers, and a few vegetables. The jurisdiction of the Tai Sheikh ends at the Kasr; the villages beyond are under the immediate control of the governor of Arbil, to whom they pay their taxes. The inhabitants complained loudly of oppression, and appeared to be an active, industrious race. Upon the banks of the Lesser Zab, below Altun Kupri (or Guntera, the “Bridge,” as the Arabs call the place), encamp the Arab tribe of Abou-Hamdan, renowned for the beauty of its women.

The mounds I examined, and particularly that of Abd-ul-Azeez, abound in sepulchral urns and in pottery, apparently not Assyrian.

The most remarkable spot in the district of Shomamok is the Gla (an Arab corruption of Kalah), or the Castle, about two miles distant from the Kasr. It is a natural elevation, left by the stream of the Kordereh, which has worn a deep channel in the soil, and dividing itself at this place into two branches forms an island, whose summit, but little increased by artificial means, is, therefore, nearly on a level with the top of the opposite precipices. The valley may be in some places about a mile wide, in others only four or five hundred yards. The Gla is consequently a natural stronghold, above one hundred feet high, furnished on all sides with outworks, resembling the artificial embankments of a modern citadel. A few isolated mounds near it have the appearance of detached forts, and nature seems to have formed a complete system of fortification. I have rarely seen a more curious place.

There are no remains of modern habitations on the summit of the Gla, which can only be ascended without difficulty from one side. Awad excavated by my directions in the mound, and discovered traces of Assyrian buildings, and several inscribed bricks, bearing the name of Sennacherib, and of a castle or palace, which, like that on the bricks from the Kasr, I am unable to interpret.

From the Gla I crossed the plain to the mound of Abou Sheetha, in which Awad had excavated for some time without making any discovery of interest. Near this ruin, perhaps at its very foot, must have taken place an event which led to one of the most celebrated episodes of ancient history. Here were treacherously seized Clearchus, Proxenus, Menon, Agias, and Socrates; and Xenophon, elected to the command of the Greek auxiliaries, commenced the ever-memorable retreat of the Ten Thousand. The camp of Tissaphernes, dappled with its many-colored tents, and glittering with golden arms and silken standards, the gorgeous display of Persian pomp, probably stood on the Kordereh, between Abou-Sheetha and the Kasr. The Greeks having taken the lower road, to the west of the Karachok range, through a plain even then as now a desert[98], turned to the east, and crossed the spur of the mountain, where we had recently seen the tents of the Howar, in order to reach the fords of the Zab. I have already pointed out the probability of their having forded that river above the junction of the Ghazir[99], and to this day the ford to the east of Abou-Sheetha is the best, and that usually frequented by the Arabs. Still not openly molested by the Persians, the Greeks halted for three days on the banks of the stream, and Clearchus, to put an end to the jealousies which had broken out between the two armies, sought an interview with the Persian chief. The crafty Eastern, knowing no policy but that to which the descendants of his race are still true, inveigled the Greek commanders into his power, and, having seized them, sent them in chains to the Persian monarch. He then put to death many of their bravest companions and soldiers, who had accompanied their chiefs. The effect which this perfidious act had on the Greek troops, surrounded by powerful enemies, wandering in the midst of an unknown and hostile country, betrayed by those they had come so far to serve, and separated from their native land by impassable rivers, waterless deserts, and inaccessible mountains, without even a guide to direct their steps, is touchingly described by the great leader and historian of their retreat: “Few ate anything that evening, few made fires, and many that night never came to their quarters, but laid themselves down, every man in the place where he happened to be, unable to sleep, through sorrow and longing for their country, their parents, their wives, and children, whom they never expected to see again.” But there was one in the army who was equal to the difficulties which encompassed them, and who had resolved to encourage his hopeless countrymen to make one great effort for their liberty and their lives. Before the break of day, Xenophon had formed his plans. Dressed in the most beautiful armour he could find, “for he thought if the gods granted him victory these ornaments would become a conqueror, and if he were to die they would decorate his fall,” he harangued the desponding Greeks, and showed them how alone they could again see their homes. His eloquence and courage gave them new life, and, after fording the river Zab, they commenced that series of marches, directed with a skill and energy unequalled, which led them through difficulties almost insurmountable to their native shores.

Near Abou-Sheetha, too, Darius, a fugitive, urged his flying horses through the Zab, followed by the scattered remnants of an army which numbered in its ranks men of almost every race and clime of Asia. A few hours after, the Macedonian plunged into the ford in pursuit of the fallen monarch, at the head of those invincible legions which he was to lead, without almost a second check, to the banks of the Indus. The plains which stretch from the Zab below Abou-Sheetha have since been more than once the battle-field of Europe and Asia.

I gazed with deep interest upon the scene of such great events—a plain, where nothing remains to tell of the vast armies which once moved across it, of European valour, or of Eastern magnificence.

Whilst riding through the jungle towards Negoub, a wolf rose before me from its lair, and ran towards the plain. Following the animal, I wounded it with one barrel of my pistol, and was about to discharge the second, when my horse slipt on some wet straw left by a recent encampment, and we fell together upon the wolf. It struggled and freed itself, leaving me besmeared with its blood. The cock of the pistol fortunately broke in going off whilst the muzzle was close to my head, and I escaped without other injury than a bruised hand, the complete use of which I did not recover for some months.

On my return to Nimroud, I remained there a few days to give directions to the overseers for continuing the work during a prolonged absence which I meditated in the desert. At Kouyunjik several new chambers had been opened. The western portal of the great hall, whose four sides were now completely uncovered, led into a long narrow chamber (eighty-two feet by twenty-six), the walls of which had unfortunately been almost entirely destroyed. In the chamber beyond, a few slabs were still standing in their original places. In length this room was the same as that parallel to it, but in breadth it was only eighteen feet. The bas-reliefs represented the siege and sack of one of the many cities taken by the great king, and the transfer of its captives to some distant province of Assyria. The Assyrians, as was their custom, carried away in triumph the images of the gods of the conquered nation, which were placed on poles and borne in procession on men’s shoulders. “Hath any god of the nations delivered his land out of the hand of the king of Assyria?” exclaimed the Assyrian general to the Jews. “Where are the gods of Hamath and Arphad? where are the gods of Sepharvaim?”[100] They had been carried away with the captives, and the very idols that were represented in this bas-relief may be amongst those to which Rabshakeh made this boasting allusion. The captured gods were three, a human figure with outstretched arms, a lion-headed man carrying a long staff in one hand, and an image inclosed by a square frame.

On the northern side of the great hall the portal formed by the winged bulls, and the two smaller doorways guarded by colossal winged figures, led into a chamber one hundred feet by twenty-four, which opened into a further room of somewhat smaller dimensions. In the first, a few slabs were still standing, to show that on the walls had been represented some warlike expedition of the Assyrian king, and, as usual, the triumphant issue of the campaign. The monarch, in his chariot, and surrounded by his body-guards, was seen receiving the captives and the spoil in a hilly country, whilst his warriors were dragging their horses up a steep mountain near a fortified town, driving their chariots along the banks of a river, and slaying with the spear the flying enemy.

The bas-reliefs, which had once ornamented the second chamber, had been still more completely destroyed. A few fragments proved that they had recorded the wars of the Assyrians with a maritime people, whose overthrow was represented on more than one sculptured wall in the palace, and who may probably be identified with some nation on the Phoenician coast conquered by Sennacherib, and mentioned in his great inscriptions. Their galleys, rowed by double banks of oarsmen, and the high conical head-dress of their women, have already been described.[101] On the best preserved slab was the interior of a fortified camp, amidst mountains. Within the walls were tents whose owners were engaged in various domestic occupations, cooking in pots placed on stones over the fire, receiving the blood of a slaughtered sheep in a jar, and making ready the couches. Warriors were seated before a table, with their shields hung to the tent-pole above them.

To the south of the palace, but part of the same great building, though somewhat removed from the new excavations, and adjoining those formerly carried on, an additional chamber had been opened, in which several bas-reliefs of considerable interest had been discovered.

Its principal entrance, facing the west, was formed by a pair of colossal human-headed lions, carved in coarse limestone, so much injured that even the inscriptions on the lower part of them were nearly illegible. Unfortunately the bas-reliefs were equally mutilated, four slabs only retaining any traces of sculpture. One of them represented Assyrian warriors leading captives, who differed in costume from any other conquered people hitherto found on the walls of the palaces. Their head-dress consisted of high feathers, forming a kind of tiara like that of an Indian chief, and they wore a robe confined at the waist, by an ornamented girdle. Some of them carried an object resembling a torch. Amongst the enemies of the Egyptians represented on their monuments is a tribe similarly attired. Their name has been read Tokkari, and they have been identified with an Asiatic nation. We have seen that in the inscriptions on the bulls, the Tokkari are mentioned amongst the people conquered by Sennacherib[102], and it is highly probable that the captives in the bas-reliefs I am describing belonged to them. Unfortunately no epigraph, or vestige of an inscription, remained on the sculptures themselves, to enable us to identify them.

A captive (of the Tokkari?) Kouyunjik.

On a second slab, preserved in this chamber, was represented a double-walled city with arched gateways, and inclined approaches leading to them from the outer walls. Within were warriors with horses; outside the fortifications was a narrow stream or canal, planted on both sides with trees, and flowing into a broad river, on which were large boats, holding several persons, and a raft of skins, bearing a man fishing, and two others seated before a pot or caldron. Along the banks, and apparently washed by the stream, was a wall with equidistant towers and battlements. On another part of the same river were men ferrying horses across the river in boats, whilst others were swimming over on inflated skins. The water swarmed with fish and crabs. Gardens and orchards, with various kinds of trees, appeared to be watered by canals similar to those which once spread fertility over the plains of Babylonia, and of which the choked-up beds still remain. A man, suspended by a rope, was being lowered into the water. Upon the corner of a slab almost destroyed, was a hanging garden, supported upon columns, whose capitals were not unlike those of the Corinthian order. This representation of ornamental gardens was highly curious. It is much to be regretted that the bas-reliefs had sustained too much injury to be restored or removed.