A.D. 273.Palmyra, with its transitory splendour, and its total annihilation, its association with two extraordinary men,—Longinus and Odenathus, and perhaps a still more extraordinary woman,—Zenobia, has been the subject of the poet’s song, the theme of the historian, and a source of deep reflection for the statesman or the philosopher. The history of Palmyra is a short but highly interesting episode in the annals of mankind, illustrated, in the course of a very few years, by the valour and ability of Odenathus, the wisdom and cultivated taste of Longinus, and the splendid beauty, great talents, and masculine mind of Zenobia. As it is said the sun of the glory of Thebes rose and set with Epaminondas, so the splendour of Palmyra is so connected with the name of Zenobia, that they seem to us to have been entirely co-existent; we look at the nascent prosperity of Palmyra before her birth, as a preparation for her future fortune; and we contemplate the vast ruins of the city as so many monuments remaining undestroyed to perpetuate her memory. No great city was ever so completely identified with a person as Palmyra with Zenobia. Of the siege itself, even Gibbon has given but a meagre account; and yet, what reader would have pardoned us, if we had neglected to notice the fall of the gorgeous capital of the Queen of the East? Palmyra was one of those great commercial entrepÔts which became important by natural position. Before the great maritime discoveries, an oasis in the deserts which divided the East from the West, as soon as commerce began to flourish, or the power of the West to desire the luxuries of the East, was certain to be wealthy if the industry of the inhabitants responded to its natural advantages. The destruction of the temples of Palmyra might be due to the As we cannot hope to improve upon the great author of “The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,” we shall give most of this short siege in his own words. “After the victories of Trajan, the little republic, grown wealthy by its commerce, sunk peaceably into the bosom of Rome, and flourished more than one hundred and fifty years in the subordinate, though honourable rank of a colony. It was during that peaceful period, if we may judge from a few remaining inscriptions, that the wealthy Palmyrenians constructed those temples, palaces, and porticos of Grecian architecture, whose ruins, scattered over an extent of several miles, have deserved the curiosity of our travellers. The elevation of Odenathus and Zenobia appeared to reflect new splendour on their country, and Palmyra, for a while, stood forth the rival of Rome; but the competition was fatal, and ages of prosperity were sacrificed to a moment of glory. “Modern Europe has produced several women who have sustained with glory the weight of empire; but if we except the doubtful achievements of Semiramis, Zenobia is perhaps the only female whose superior genius broke through the servile indolence imposed on her sex by the climate and manners of Asia. She claimed her descent from the Macedonian kings of Egypt, equalled in beauty her ancestor Cleopatra, and far surpassed that princess in chastity and valour. Zenobia was esteemed the most lovely as well as the most heroic of her sex. She was of dark complexion (for in speaking of ladies, such things are not trifles), her teeth were of pearly whiteness, and her large black eyes sparkled with uncommon fire, tempered with the most attractive sweetness. Her voice was strong and harmonious; her understanding was strengthened and adorned by study; she was not ignorant of the Latin tongue, but possessed in equal perfection the Greek, the Syriac, and the Egyptian languages. She had drawn up for her own use an epitome of Oriental history, and familiarly compared the beauties of Homer and Plato, under the tuition of the sublime Longinus. “After a successful expedition against the Gothic plunderers of Asia, the Palmyrenian prince returned to the city Emessa, in Syria. Invincible in war, he was there cut off by domestic treason, and his favourite amusement of hunting was the cause, or at least the occasion, of his death. His nephew MÆonius presumed to dart his javelin before that of his uncle; and, though admonished of his error, repeated the same freedom. As a monarch, and as a sportsman, Odenathus was provoked, took away his horse, a mark of ignominy, and chastised the rash youth by a short confinement. “The offence was soon forgotten, but the punishment was remembered; and MÆonius, with a few daring associates, assassinated his uncle in the midst of a great entertainment. Herod, the son of Odenathus, though not of Zenobia, a young man of a soft and effeminate temper, was killed with his father. But MÆonius obtained only the pleasure of revenge by this bloody deed. He had scarcely time to assume the title of Augustus, before he was sacrificed by Zenobia to the memory of her husband. “When Aurelian passed over into Asia, against an adversary whose sex alone could render her an object of contempt, his presence restored obedience to the provinces of Bithynia, already shaken by the arms and intrigues of Zenobia. Advancing at the head of his legions, he accepted the submission of Aucyra, and was admitted into Tyana, after an obstinate siege, by the help of a treacherous citizen. The “Zenobia would have ill deserved her reputation, had she indolently permitted the emperor of the West to approach within a hundred miles of her capital. The fate of the East was decided in two great battles; so similar in almost every circumstance, that we can scarcely distinguish them from each other, except by observing that the first was fought near Antioch, and the second near Emessa. In both, the queen of Palmyra animated the armies by her presence, and devolved the execution of her orders on Zabdas, who had already signalized his military talents by the conquest of Egypt. The numerous forces of Zenobia consisted, for the most part, of light archers and of heavy cavalry, clothed in complete steel. The Moorish and Illyrian horse of Aurelian were unable to sustain the ponderous charge of their antagonists. They fled in real or affected disorder, engaged the Palmyrenians in a laborious pursuit, harassed them by a desultory combat, and at length discomfited this impenetrable but unwieldy body of cavalry. The light infantry, in the mean time, when they had exhausted their quivers, remaining without protection against a closer onset, exposed their naked sides to the swords of the legions. Aurelian had chosen these veteran troops, who were usually stationed on the Upper Danube, and whose valour had been severely tried in the Alemannic war. After the defeat of Emessa, Zenobia found it impossible to collect another army. As far as the frontier of Egypt, the nations subject to her empire had joined the standard of the conqueror, who detached Probus, the bravest of his generals, to possess himself of the Egyptian provinces. Palmyra was the last resource of the widow of Odenathus. She retired within the walls of “In his march over the sandy desert between Emessa and Palmyra, the emperor Aurelian was perpetually harassed by the Arabs; nor could he always defend his army, and especially his baggage, from those flying troops of active and daring robbers, who watched the moment of surprise, and eluded the slow pursuit of the legions. The siege of Palmyra was an object far more difficult and important, and the emperor, who with incessant vigour pressed the attacks in person, was himself wounded with a dart. ‘The Roman people,’ says Aurelian, in an original letter, speak ‘with contempt of the war which I am waging against a woman. They are ignorant both of the character and the power of Zenobia. It is impossible to enumerate her warlike preparations, of stones, of arrows, and of every species of missile weapons. Every part of the walls is provided with two or three balistÆ, and artificial fires are thrown from her military engines. The fear of punishment has armed her with a desperate courage. Yet still I trust in the protecting deities of Rome, who have hitherto been favourable to all my undertakings.’ Doubtful, however, of the protection of the gods and of the events of the siege, Aurelian judged it more prudent to offer terms of an advantageous capitulation; to the queen, a splendid retreat; to the citizens, their ancient privileges. His proposals were obstinately rejected, and the refusal was accompanied with insult. “The firmness of Zenobia was supported by the hope that famine would soon compel the emperor to repass the desert; and by the reasonable expectation that the kings of the East, and particularly the Persian monarch, would arm in defence of their most natural ally. But fortune, and the perseverance of Aurelian, overcame every obstacle. The death of Sapor, which happened about this time, distracted the councils of Persia, and the inconsiderable succours that attempted to relieve Palmyra, were easily intercepted, either by the arms or the liberality of the emperor. From every part of Syria, a succession of convoys safely arrived in the camp, which was increased by the return of Probus, with his victorious troops, from the conquest of Egypt. It was then “When the Syrian queen was brought into the presence of Aurelian, he sternly asked her how she had presumed to rise in arms against the emperors of Rome? The answer of Zenobia was a prudent mixture of respect and firmness. ‘Because I disdained to consider as Roman emperors an Aureolus or a Gallienus. You alone I acknowledge as my conqueror and my sovereign.’ But as female fortitude is commonly artificial, so it is seldom steady or consistent. The courage of Zenobia deserted her in the hour of trial; she trembled at the angry clamours of the soldiers, who called aloud for her immediate execution; she forgot the generous despair of Cleopatra, which she had proposed as her model; and ignominiously purchased life by the sacrifice of her fame and her friends. It was to their counsels, which governed the weakness of her sex, that she imputed the guilt of her obstinate resistance; it was on their heads she directed the vengeance of the cruel Aurelian. The fame of Longinus, who was included amongst the perhaps innocent victims of her fear, will survive that of the queen who betrayed, or the tyrant who condemned him. Genius and learning were incapable of moving a fierce unlettered soldier, but they had served to elevate and harmonize the soul of Longinus. Without uttering a complaint, he calmly followed the executioner, pitying his unhappy mistress and bestowing comfort on his afflicted friends. “Returning from the conquest of the East, Aurelian had already crossed the straits which divide Europe from Asia, “Since the foundation of Rome, no general had more nobly deserved a triumph than Aurelian, nor was a triumph ever celebrated with superior pride and magnificence. The pomp was opened by twenty elephants, four royal tigers, and above two hundred of the most curious animals from every climate of the North, the East, and the South. They were followed by sixteen hundred gladiators, devoted to the cruel amusements of the amphitheatre. The wealth of Asia, the arms and ensigns of so many conquered nations, and the magnificent plate and wardrobe of the Syrian queen, were exposed in exact symmetry or artful disorder. The ambassadors of the most remote parts of the earth,—of Ethiopia, Arabia, Persia, Bactriana, India, and China, all remarkable by their rich or singular dresses, displayed the fame and power of the Roman emperor, who exposed likewise to the public view the presents that he had received, and particularly a great number of crowns of gold, the offerings of grateful cities. The victories of Aurelian were attested by the long train of captives who reluctantly attended his triumph,—Goths, Vandals, Sarmatians, Alemanni, Franks, Gauls, Syrians, and Egyptians. Each people was distinguished by its peculiar “The triumph over, Aurelian behaved generously to his beautiful and royal captive. He presented Zenobia with an elegant villa at Tibur or Tivoli, above twenty miles from the capital; the Syrian queen insensibly sunk into a Roman matron, her daughters married into noble families, and her race was not extinct in the fifth century.” |