“She had all the royal makings of a Queen.”—SHAKESPEARE.
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.