VISIT TO THE WINGED LIONS BY NIGHT.--THE BITUMEN SPRINGS.--REMOVAL OF
THE WINGED LIONS TO THE RIVER.--FLOODS AT NIMROUD.--YEZIDI MARRIAGE
FESTIVAL.--BAAZANI.--VISIT TO BAVIAN.--SITE OF THE BATTLE OF
ARBELA.--DESCRIPTION OF ROOK SCULPTURES.--INSCRIPTIONS.--THE SHABBAKS.
By the 28th of January, the colossal lions forming the portal to the great
hall in the north-west palace of Nimroud were ready to be dragged to the
river-bank. The walls and their sculptured panelling had been removed from
both sides of them, and they stood isolated in the midst of the ruins. We
rode one calm cloudless night to the mound, to look on them for the last
time before they were taken from their old resting-places. The moon was at
her full, and as we drew nigh to the edge of the deep wall of earth rising
around them, her soft light was creeping over the stern features of the
human heads, and driving before it the dark shadows which still clothed
the lion forms. One by one the limbs of the gigantic sphinxes emerged from
the gloom, until the monsters were unveiled before us. I shall never
forget that night, or the emotions which those venerable figures caused
within me. A few hours more and they were to stand no longer where they
had stood unscathed amidst the wreck of man and his works for ages. It
seemed almost sacrilege to tear them from their old haunts to make them a
mere wonder-stock to the busy crowd of a new world. They were better
suited to the desolation around them; for they had guarded the palace in
its glory, and it was for them to watch over it in its ruin. Sheikh
Abd-ur-Rahman, who had ridden with us to the mound, was troubled with no
such reflections. He gazed listlessly at the grim images, wondered at the
folly of the Franks, thought the night cold, and turned his mare towards
his tents. We scarcely heeded his going, but stood speechless in the
deserted portal, until the shadows again began to creep over its hoary
guardians.
Beyond the ruined palaces a scene scarcely less solemn awaited us. I had
sent a party of Jebours to the bitumen springs, outside the walls to the
east of the inclosure. The Arabs having lighted a small fire with
brushwood, awaited our coming to throw the burning sticks upon the pitchy
pools. A thick heavy smoke rolled upwards in curling volumes, hiding the
light of the moon, and spreading wide over the sky. Tongues of flame and
jets of gas, driven from the burning pit, shot through the murky canopy.
As the fire brightened, a thousand fantastic forms of light played amidst
the smoke. To break the cindered crust, and to bring fresh slime to the
surface, the Arabs threw large stones into the springs; a new volume of
fire then burst forth, throwing a deep red glare upon the figures and upon
the landscape. The Jebours danced round the burning pools, like demons in
some midnight orgie, shouting their war-cry, and brandishing their
glittering arms. In an hour the bitumen was exhausted for the time, the
dense smoke gradually died away, and the pale light of the moon again
shone over the black slime pits.
The colossal lions were moved by still simpler and ruder means than those
adopted on my first expedition. They were tilted over upon loose earth
heaped behind them, their too rapid descent being checked by a hawser,
which was afterwards replaced by props of wood and stone. They were then
lowered, by levers and jackscrews, upon the cart brought under them. A
road paved with flat stones had been made to the edge of the mound, and
the sculpture was, without difficulty, dragged from the trenches.
Owing to recent heavy rains, which had left in many places deep swamps, we
experienced much difficulty in dragging the cart over the plain to the
river side. Three days were spent in transporting each lion. The unwieldy
mass was propelled from behind by enormous levers of poplar wood; and in
the costumes of those who worked, as well as in the means adopted to move
the colossal sculptures, except that we used a wheeled cart instead of a
sledge, the procession closely resembled that which in days of yore
transported the same great figures, and which we see so graphically
represented on the walls of Kouyunjik. As they had been brought so were
they taken away.
It was necessary to humor and excite the Arabs to induce them to persevere
in the arduous work of dragging the cart through the deep soft soil into
which it continually sank. At one time, after many vain efforts to move
the buried wheels, it was unanimously declared that Mr. Cooper, the
artist, brought ill luck, and no one would work until he retired. The
cumbrous machine crept onwards for a few more yards, but again all
exertions were fruitless. Then the Frank lady would bring good fortune if
she sat on the sculpture. The wheels rolled heavily along, but were soon
clogged once more in the yielding soil. An evil eye surely lurked among
the workmen or the bystanders. Search was quickly made, and one having
been detected upon whom this curse had alighted, he was ignominiously
driven away with shouts and execrations. This impediment having been
removed, the cart drew nearer to the village, but soon again came to a
standstill. All the Sheikhs were now summarily degraded from their rank
and honors, and a weak ragged boy having been dressed up in tawdry
kerchiefs, and invested with a cloak, was pronounced by Hormuzd to be the
only fit chief for such puny men. The cart moved forwards, until the ropes
gave way, under the new excitement caused by this reflection upon the
character of the Arabs. When that had subsided, and the presence of the
youthful Sheikh no longer encouraged his subjects, he was as summarily
deposed as he had been elected, and a greybeard of ninety was raised to
the dignity in his stead. He had his turn; then the most unpopular of the
Sheikhs were compelled to lie down on the ground, that the groaning wheels
might pass over them, like the car of Juggernaut over its votaries. With
yells, shrieks, and wild antics the cart was drawn within a few inches of
the prostrate men. As a last resource I seized a rope myself, and with
shouts of defiance between the different tribes, who were divided into
separate parties and pulled against each other, and amidst the deafening
_tahlel_ of the women, the lion was at length fairly brought to the
water's edge.
The winter rains had not yet swelled the waters of the river so as to
enable a raft bearing a very heavy cargo to float with safety to Baghdad.
It was not until the month of April, after I had left Mosul on my journey
to the Khabour, that the floods, from the melting of the snows in the
higher mountains of Kurdistan, swept down the valley of the Tigris. I was
consequently obliged to confide the task of embarking the sculptures to
Behnan, my principal overseer, a Mosuleean stonecutter of considerable
skill and experience, Mr. Vice-consul Rassam kindly undertaking to
superintend the operation. Owing to extraordinary storms in the hills,
the river rose suddenly and with unexampled rapidity. The Jaif was one
vast sea, and a furious wind drove the waves against the foot of the
mound. The Arabs had never seen a similar inundation, and before they
could escape to the high land many persons were overwhelmed in the waters.
When the flood had subsided, the lions on the river bank, though covered
with mud and silt, were found uninjured. They were speedily placed on the
rafts prepared for them, but unfortunately during the operation one of
them, which had previously been cracked nearly across, separated into two
parts. Both sculptures were doomed to misfortune. Some person, uncovering
the other during the night, broke the nose. I was unable to discover the
author of this wanton mischief. He was probably a stranger, who had some
feud with the Arabs working in the excavations.[90]
The rafts reached Baghdad in safety. After receiving the necessary repairs
they floated onwards to Busrah; and although they encountered several
serious dangers and mishaps, they finally reached England.
During my hasty visit in the autumn to Bavian, I had been unable either to
examine the rock-tablets with sufficient care, or to copy the
inscriptions. The lions having been moved, I seized the first leisure
moment to return to those remarkable monuments.
Cawal Yusuf having invited me to the marriage of his niece at Baashiekhah,
we left Nimroud early in the morning for that village. The Cawal, followed
by the principal inhabitants on horseback, and by a large concourse of
people on foot, accompanied by music, and by children bringing lambs as
offerings, met us not far from the village. It was already the second day
of the marriage. On the previous day the parties had entered into the
contract before the usual witnesses, amidst rejoicing and dances. After
our arrival, the bride was led to the house of the bridegroom, surrounded
by the inhabitants, dressed in their gayest robes, and by the Cawals
playing on their instruments of music. She was covered from head to foot
by a thick veil, and was kept behind a curtain in the corner of a darkened
room. Here she remained until the guests had feasted three days, after
which the bridegroom was allowed to approach her.
The courtyard of the house was filled with dancers, and during the day and
the greater part of the night, nothing was heard but the loud signs of
rejoicing of the women, and the noise of the drum and the pipe.
On the third day the bridegroom was sought early in the morning, and led
in triumph by his friends from house to house, receiving at each a
trifling present. He was then placed within a circle of dancers, and the
guests and bystanders, wetting small coins, stuck them on his forehead.
The money was collected as it fell, in an open kerchief held by his
companions under his chin.
After this ceremony a party of young men, who had attached themselves to
the bridegroom, rushed into the crowd, and carrying off the most wealthy
of the guests, locked them up in a dark room until they consented to pay a
ransom for their release. The money thus collected was added to the dowry
of the newly married couple.
Leaving the revellers I rode to Baazani with Cawal Yusuf, Sheikh Jindi
(the stern leader of the religious ceremonies at Sheikh Adi), and a few
Yezidi notables, to examine the rocky valleys behind the village. I once
more searched in vain for some traces of ancient quarries from whence the
Assyrians might have obtained the slabs used in their buildings. At the
entrance of one of the deep ravines, which runs into the Gebel Makloub, a
clear spring gushes from a grotto in the hill-side. Tradition says that
this is the cave of the Seven Sleepers and their Dog, and the Yezidis have
made the spot a _ziareh_, or place of pilgrimage.[91]
A ride of seven hours brought us to the foot of the higher limestone
range, and to the mouth of the ravine containing the rock-sculptures.
Bavian is a mere Kurdish hamlet of five or six miserable huts on the left
bank of the Ghazir. We stopped at the larger village of Khinnis; the two
being scarcely half a mile apart, the place is usually called
"Khinnis-Bavian." The Arab population ceases with the plains, the villages
in the hills being inhabited by Kurds, and included in the district of
Missouri. Adjoining is the Yezidi district of Sheikhan.
The rock-sculptures of Bavian are the most important that have yet been
discovered in Assyria.[92] They are carved in relief on the side of a
narrow, rocky ravine, on the right bank of the Gomel, a brawling mountain
torrent issuing from the Missouri hills, and one of the principal feeders
of the small river Ghazir, the ancient Bumadus. The Gomel or Gomela may,
perhaps, be traced in the ancient name of Gaugamela, celebrated for that
great victory which gave to the Macedonian conqueror the dominion of the
Eastern world. Although the battle-field was called after Arbela, a
neighbouring city, we know that the river Zab intervened between them, and
that the battle was fought near the village of Gaugamela, on the banks of
the Bumadus or Ghazir, the Gomela of the Kurds. It is remarkable that
tradition has not preserved any record of the precise scene of an event
which so materially affected the destinies of the East. The history of
this great battle is unknown to the present inhabitants of the country;
nor does any local name, except perhaps that which I have pointed out,
serve to connect it with these plains. The battle-field was probably in
the neighbourhood of Tel Aswad, or between it and the junction of the
Ghazir with the Zab, on the direct line of march to the fords of that
river. We had undoubtedly crossed the very spot during our ride to Bavian.
The whole of the country between the Makloub range and the Tigris is
equally well suited to the operations of mighty armies, but from the
scanty topographical details given by the historians of Alexander, we are
unable to identify the exact place of his victory. It is curious that
hitherto no remains or relics have been turned up by the plough which
would serve to mark the precise site of so great a battle as that of
Arbela.
The principal rock-tablet at Bavian contains four figures, sculptured in
relief upon the smoothed face of a limestone cliff, rising perpendicularly
from the bed of the torrent. They are inclosed by a kind of frame 28 feet
high by 30 feet wide, and are protected by an overhanging cornice from the
water which trickles down the face of the precipice. Two deities, facing
each other, are represented, as they frequently are on monuments and
relics of the same period, standing on mythic animals resembling dogs.
They wear the high square head-dress, with horns uniting in front,
peculiar to the human-headed bulls of the later Assyrian palaces. One
holds in the left hand a kind of staff surmounted by the sacred tree. To
the centre of this staff is attached a ring encircling a figure, probably
that of the king. The other hand is stretched forth towards the opposite
god, who carries a similar staff, and grasps in the right hand an object
which is too much injured to be accurately described. These two figures
may represent but one and the same great tutelary deity of the Assyrians,
as the two kings who stand in act of adoration before them are undoubtedly
but one and the same king. The monarch, thus doubly portrayed, is behind
the god. He raises one hand, and holds in the other the sacred mace,
ending in a ball. His dress resembles that of the builder of the Kouyunjik
palace, Sennacherib, with whom the inscriptions I shall presently
describe, identify him.
This bas-relief has suffered greatly from the effects of the atmosphere,
and in many parts the details can no longer be distinguished. But they
have been still more injured by those who occupied the country after the
fall of the Assyrian empire. Strangers, having no reverence for the
records or sacred monuments of those who went before them, excavated in
the ready-scarped rocks the sepulchral chambers of their dead.[93] In this
great tablet there are four such tombs. I entered them by means of a rope
lowered from above by a party of Kurds. They were empty, their contents
having, of course, been long before carried away, or destroyed.
To the left of this great bas-relief, and nearer the mouth of the ravine,
is a second tablet containing a horseman at full speed, and the remains of
other figures. Both horse and rider are of colossal proportions, and
remarkable for the spirit of the outline. The warrior wears the Assyrian
pointed helmet, and couches a long ponderous spear, as in the act of
charging the enemy. Before him is a colossal figure of the king, and
behind him a deity with a horned cap; above his head a row of smaller
figures of gods standing on animals of various forms, as in the
rock-sculptures of Malthaiyah.
This fine bas-relief has, unfortunately, suffered even more than the other
monuments from the effects of the atmosphere, and would easily escape
notice without an acquaintance with its position.
Scattered over the cliff, on each side of the principal bas-reliefs, are
eleven small tablets, some easily accessible, others so high up on the
face of the precipice, that they are scarcely seen from below. One is on a
level with the bed of the stream, and was, indeed, almost covered by the
mud deposit of the floods. Each arched recess, for they are cut into the
rock, contains a figure of the king, as at the Nahr-el-Kelb, near Beyrout
in Syria[94], 5 feet 6 inches high. Above his head are the sacred symbols,
arranged in four distinct groups. The first group consists of three
tiaras, like those worn by the gods and human-headed bulls, and of a kind
of altar on which stands a staff ending in the head of a ram; the second
of a crescent and of the winged disk, or globe; the third of a pedestal,
on which are a trident and three staffs, one topped by a cone, another
without ornament, and the last ending in two bulls' heads turned in
opposite directions; and the fourth of a Maltese cross (? symbolical of
the sun) and the seven stars. Some of these symbols have reference, it
would seem, to the astral worship of the Assyrians; whilst others,
probably, represent instruments used during sacrifices, or sacred
ceremonies.
Across three of these royal tablets are inscriptions. One can be reached
from the foot of the cliff, the others, being on the higher sculptures,
cannot be seen from below. They are all more or less injured, but being
very nearly, word for word, the same, they can to some extent be restored.
I was lowered by ropes to those on the face of the precipice, which are
not otherwise accessible. Standing on a ledge scarcely six inches wide,
overlooking a giddy depth, and in a constrained and painful position, I
had some difficulty in copying them. The stupidity and clumsiness,
moreover, of the Kurds, who had never aided in such proceedings before,
rendered my attempts to reach the sculptures somewhat dangerous.
The inscriptions, the longest of which contains sixty-three lines, are in
many respects of considerable importance, and have been partly translated
by Dr. Hincks. They commence with an invocation to Ashur and the great
deities of Assyria, the names of only eleven of whom are legible, although
probably the whole thirteen are enumerated, as on the monuments from
Nimroud. Then follow the name and titles of Sennacherib. Next there is an
account of various great works for irrigation undertaken by this king.
From eighteen districts, or villages, he declares he dug eighteen canals
to the Ussur or Khusur (?), in which he collected their waters. He also
dug a canal, from the borders of the town or district of Kisri to
Nineveh, and brought these waters through it; he called it the canal of
Sennacherib.
A long obscure passage precedes a very detailed account of the expedition
to Babylon and Kar-Duniyas against Merodach-baladan, recorded under the
first year of the annals on the Kouyunjik bulls.[95] After mentioning some
canals which he had made in the south of Assyria, Sennacherib speaks of
the army which defended the workmen being attacked by the king of Elam and
the king of Babylon, with many kings of the hills and the plains who were
their allies. He defeated them in the neighbourhood of Khalul (site
undetermined). Many of the great people of the king of Elam and the son of
the king of Kar-Duniyas were either killed or taken prisoners, while the
kings themselves fled to their respective countries. Sennacherib then
mentions his advance to Babylon, his conquest and plunder of it, and
concludes with saying, that he brought back from that city the images of
the gods which had been taken by _Merodach-adakhe_ (?), the king of
Mesopotamia, from Assyria 418 years before, and put them in their places.
Now, the importance of this inscription, presuming it to be correctly
interpreted, will at once be perceived, for it proves almost beyond a
doubt, that at that remote period the Assyrians kept an exact computation
of time. We may consequently hope that sooner or later chronological
tables may be discovered, which will furnish us with minute and accurate
information as to the precise epoch of the occurrence of various important
events in Assyrian history. It is, indeed, remarkable that Sennacherib
should mark so exactly the year of the carrying away of the Assyrian
gods. This very date enables us, as will hereafter be seen, to restore
much of the chronology, and to place, almost with certainty, in the
dynastic lists, a king whose position was before unknown.
We find also that the greater part, if not the whole, of the
rock-sculptures were executed either at the end of the first, or at the
beginning of the second, year of the reign of Sennacherib. As he
particularly describes six tablets, it is probable that the others were
added at some future period, and after some fresh victory. When the whole
inscription is restored, we shall probably obtain many other important
details which are wanting in the annals of Kouyunjik, and in the records
of the same period.
Beneath the sculptured tablets, and in the bed of the Gomel, are two
enormous fragments of rock, which appear to have been torn from the
overhanging cliff, and to have been hurled by some mighty convulsion of
nature into the torrent below. The pent up waters eddy round them in deep
and dangerous whirlpools, and when swollen by the winter rains sweep
completely over them. They still bear the remains of sculpture. One has
been broken by the fall into two pieces. On them is the Assyrian Hercules
strangling the lion between two winged human-headed bulls, back to back,
as at the grand entrances of the palaces of Kouyunjik and Khorsabad. Above
this group is the king, worshipping between two deities, who stand on
mythic animals, having the heads of eagles, the bodies and fore feet of
lions, and hind legs armed with the talons of a bird of prey. The height
of the whole sculpture is 24 feet, that of the winged bull 8 ft. 6 in.
Near the entrance to the ravine the face of the cliff has been scraped for
some yards to the level of the bed of the torrent. A party of Kurds were
hired to excavate at this spot, as well as in other parts of the narrow
valley. Remains and foundations of buildings in well-hewn stone were
discovered under the thick mud deposited by the Gomel when swollen by
rains. Higher up the gorge, on removing the earth, I found a series of
basins cut in the rock, and descending in steps to the stream. The water
had originally been led from one to the other through small conduits, the
lowest of which was ornamented at its mouth with two rampant lions in
relief. These outlets were choked up, but we cleared them, and by pouring
water into the upper basin restored the fountain as it had been in the
time of the Assyrians.
From the nature and number of the monuments at Bavian, it would seem that
this ravine was a sacred spot, devoted to religious ceremonies and to
national sacrifices. When the buildings, whose remains still exist, were
used for these purposes, the waters must have been pent up between quays
or embankments. They now occasionally spread over the bottom of the
valley, leaving no pathway at the foot of the lofty cliffs. The remains of
a well-built raised causeway of stone, leading to Bavian from the city of
Nineveh, may still be traced across the plain to the east of the Gebel
Makloub.
The place, from its picturesque beauty and its cool refreshing shade even
in the hottest day of summer, is a grateful retreat, well suited to
devotion and to holy rites. The brawling stream almost fills the bed of
the narrow ravine with its clear and limpid waters. The beetling cliffs
rise abruptly on each side, and above them tower the wooded declivities of
the Kurdish hills. As the valley opens into the plain, the sides of the
limestone mountains are broken into a series of distinct strata, and
resemble a vast flight of steps leading up to the high lands of central
Asia. The banks of the torrent are clothed with shrubs and dwarf trees,
amongst which are the green myrtle and the gay oleander, bending under the
weight of its rosy blossoms.
I remained two days at Bavian to copy the inscriptions, and to explore the
Assyrian remains. Wishing to visit the Yezidi chiefs, I took the road to
Ain Sifni, passing through two large Kurdish villages, Atrush and
Om-es-sukr, and leaving the entrance to the valley of Sheikh Adi to the
right. The district to the north-west of Khinnis is partly inhabited by a
tribe professing peculiar religious tenets, and known by the name of
Shabbak. Although strange and mysterious rites are, as usual, attributed
to them, I suspect that they are simply the descendants of Kurds, who
emigrated at some distant period from the Persian slopes of the mountains,
and who still profess Sheeite doctrines.
We passed the night in the village of Esseeyah, where Sheikh Nasr had
recently built a dwelling-house. I occupied the same room with the Sheikh,
Hussein Bey, and a large body of Yezidi Cawals, and was lulled to sleep by
an interminable tale, about the prophet Mohammed and a stork, which, when
we had all lain down to rest, a Yezidi priest related with the same
soporific effect upon the whole party. On the following day I hunted
gazelles with Hussein Bey, and was his guest for the night at Baadri,
returning next morning to Mosul.