'All instincts,' he replied, 'are not to be defended: some animals devour

their own young as soon as born. Vice is instinctive. If it be instinctive

to honor, and love, and obey a vicious parent, to be unresisting under the

most galling oppression, then I say, the sooner reason usurps the place of

instinct the safer for mankind. No error can be more gross or hurtful,

than to respect vice because of the person in whom it is embodied, even

though that person be a parent. Vice is vice, injustice is injustice,

wrong is wrong, wheresoever they are found; and are to be detested and

withstood. But I might admit that I am in an error here; and still

maintain my cause by denying the justice of the figure by which our

country is made our parent, and our obligations to her made to rest on the

same ground. It is mere fancy, it is a nullity, unless it be true, as I

think it is, that it has been the source of great mischiefs to the world,

in which case it cannot be termed a nullity, but something positively

pernicious. What age of the world can be named when an insane devotion to

one's country has not been the mother of war upon war, evil upon evil,

beyond the power of memory to recount? Patriotism, standing for this

instinctive slavery of the will, has cursed as much as it has blessed

mankind. Men have not reasoned, they have only felt: they have not

inquired, is the cause of my country just--but is it her cause? That has

ever been the cry in Rome. "Our country! our country!--right or wrong--our

country!" It is a maxim good for conquest and despotism; bad, for peace

and justice. It has made Rome mistress of the world, and at the same time

the scourge of the world, and trodden down into their own blood-stained

soil the people of many a clime, who had else dwelt in freedom. I am no

Roman in this sense, and ought never to have been. Admit that I am not

justified in raising my hand against the life of a parent--though if I

could defend myself against violence no otherwise, I should raise that

hand--I will never allow that I am to approve and second with my best

blood all the acts of my country; but when she errs am bound, on the other

hand, to blame, and if need be oppose. Why not? What is this country? Men

like myself. Who enact the decrees by which I am to be thus bound?

Senators, no more profoundly wise perhaps, and no more irreproachably

virtuous, than myself. And do I owe their judgments, which I esteem false,

a dearer allegiance than I do to my own, which I esteem right and true?

Never: such patriotism is a degradation and a vice. Rome, Lucius, I think

to have dealt by me and the miserable men who, with me, fell into the

hands of Sapor, after the manner of a selfish, cold-hearted, unnatural

parent, and I renounce her, and all allegiance to her. I am from this hour

a Palmyrene, Zenobia is my mother, Palmyra my country.'

'But,' I could not but still urge, 'should no distinction be made between

your country and her emperor? Is the country to rest under the imputation

which is justly perhaps cast upon him? That were hardly right. To renounce

Gallienus, were he now emperor, were a defensible act: But why Rome or

Aurelian?'

'I freely grant, that had a just emperor been put upon the throne, a man

with human feelings, the people, had he projected our rescue or revenge,

would have gone with him. But how is their conduct to be defended during

the long reign of the son of Valerian? Was such a people as the people of

Rome to conform their minds and acts to a monster like him? Was that the

part of a great nation? Is it credible that the senate and the people

together, had no power to compel Gallienus to the performance of his

duties to his own father, and the brave legions who fell with him? Alas!

they too wanted the will.'

'O not so, Calpurnius,' I rejoined; 'Gallienus wished the death or

captivity of his father, that he might reign. To release him was the last

act that wretch could have been urged to do. And could he then have been

made to interpose for the others? He might have been assassinated, but all

the power of Rome could not have compelled him to a war, the issue of

which might have been, by the rescue of Valerian, to lose him his throne.'

'Then he should have been assassinated. Rome owed herself a greater duty

than allegiance to a beast in human form.'

'But, Galpurnius, you now enjoy your liberty. Why consider so curiously

whence it comes? Besides, you have, while in Persia, dwelt in comfort, and

at last even in magnificence. The Prince himself has been your companion

and friend.'

'What was it,' he replied, 'what was it, when I reflected upon myself, but

so much deeper degradation, to find that in spite of myself I was every

day sinking deeper and deeper in Persian effeminacy? What was it but the

worst wretchedness of all to feel as I did, that I, a Roman and a Piso,

was losing my nature as I had lost my country? If any thing served to turn

my blood into one hot current of bitterness and revenge, it was this. It

will never cool till I find myself, sword in hand, under the banners of

Zenobia. Urge me no more: it were as hopeful an endeavor to stem the

current of the Euphrates, as to turn me from my purpose. I have reasoned

with you because you are a brother, not because you are a Roman.'

'And I,' I replied, 'can still love you, because you are a brother, nor

less because you are also a Palmyrene. I greet you as the head of our

house, the elder heir of an illustrious name. I still will hope, that when

these troubles cease, Rome may claim you as her own.'

'No emperor,' he answered, 'unless he were a Piso, I fear, would permit a

renegade of such rank ever to dwell within the walls of Rome. Let me

rather hope, that when this war is ended, Portia may exchange Rome for

Palmyra, and that here, upon this fair and neutral ground, the Pisos may

once more dwell beneath the same roof.'

'May it be so,' said Gracchus; 'and let not the heats of political

opposition change the kindly current of your blood, nor inflame it. You,

Lucius Piso, are to remember the provocations of Calpurnius, and are to

feel that there was a nobleness in that sensibility to a declension into

Persian effeminacy that, to say the least, reflects quite as much honor

upon the name of Piso, and even Roman, as any loyalty to an emperor like

Gallienus, or that senate filled with his creatures. And you, Calpurnius

Piso, are to allow for that instinctive veneration for every thing Roman

which grows up with the Roman, and even in spite of his better reason

ripens into a bigotry that deserves the name of a crime rather than a

virtue, and are to consider, that while in you the growth of this false

sentiment has been checked by causes, in respect to which you were the

sport of fortune, so in Lucius it has been quickened by other causes over

which he also was powerless. But to utter my belief, Lucius I think is now

more than half Palmyrene, and I trust yet, if committed as he has been to

the further tuition of our patriot Fausta, will be not only in part, but

altogether of our side.'

'In the mean time, let us rejoice,' said Fausta, 'that the noble

Calpurnius joins our cause. If we may judge by the eye, the soft life of a

Persian Satrap has not quite exhausted the native Roman vigor.'

'I have never intermitted,' replied Calpurnius, 'martial exercises:

especially have I studied the whole art of horsemanship, so far as the

chase and military discipline can teach it. It is in her cavalry, as I

learn, that Zenobia places her strength: I shall there, I trust, do her

good service.'

'In the morning,' said Fausta, 'it shall be my office to bring you before

our Queen.'

'And now, Fausta,' said Gracchus,'bring your harp, and let music perfect

the harmony which reason and philosophy have already so well begun;

music--which for its power over our souls, may rather be held an influence

of the gods, a divine breathing, than any thing of mortal birth.'

'I fear,' said Fausta, as she touched the instrument--the Greek and not

the Jewish harp--'I shall still further task your philosophy; for I can

sing nothing else than the war-song, which is already heard all through

the streets of Palmyra, and whose author, it is said, is no less than our

chief spirit, Longinus. Lucius, you must close your ears.'

'Never, while your voice sounds, though bloody treason were the

only burden.'

'You are a gentle Roman.'

Then after a brief but fiery prelude, which of itself struck by her

fingers was enough to send life into stones, she broke forth into a

strain, abrupt and impassioned, of wild Pindaric energy, that seemed the

very war-cry of a people striking and dying for liberty. Her voice,

inspired by a soul too large for mortal form, rang like a trumpet through

the apartment, and seemed to startle the gods themselves at their feast.

As the hymn moved on to its perfect close, and the voice of Fausta

swelled with the waxing theme, Calpurnius seemed like one entranced;

unconsciously he had left his seat, and there, in the midst of the room,

stood before the divine girl converted to a statue. As she ceased, the

eyes of Calpurnius fell quickly upon me, with an expression which I

instantly interpreted, and should have instantly returned, but that we

were all alike roused out of ourselves by the loud shouts of a multitude

without the palace, who apparently had been drawn together by the

far-reaching tones of Fausta's voice, and who, as soon as the last

strings of the harp were touched, testified their delight by reiterated

and enthusiastic cries.

'When Zabdas and Zenobia fail,' said Calpurnius, 'you, daughter of

Gracchus, may lead the armies of your country by your harp and voice; they

would inspire not less than the fame of Cæsar or Aurelian.'

'But be it known to you. Piso,' said Gracchus, 'that this slight girl can

wield a lance or a sword, while centaur-like she grows to the animal she

rides, as well as sweep these idle strings.'

'I will learn of her in either art,' replied my brother. 'As I acknowledge

no instinct which is to bind me to an unjust parent, but will give honor

only where there is virtue, so on the field of war I will enlist under any

leader in whom I behold the genius of a warrior, be that leader man or

woman, boy or girl.'

'I shall be satisfied,' said Fausta, 'to become your teacher in music,

that is, if you can learn through the force of example alone. Take now

another lesson. Zenobia shall teach you the art of war.'

With these words she again passed her fingers over her harp, and after

strains of melting sweetness, prolonged till our souls were wholly subdued

to the sway of the gentler emotions, she sang in words of Sappho, the

praise of love and peace, twin-sisters. And then as we urged, or named to

her, Greek or Roman airs which we wished to hear, did she sing and play

till every sense was satisfied and filled.

It needs not so much sagacity as I possess to perceive the effect upon my

brother of the beauty and powers of Fausta. He speaks with difficulty when

he addresses her, and while arguing or conversing with me or Gracchus, his

eye seeks her countenance, and then falls as it encounters hers, as if he

had committed some crime. Fausta, I am sure, is not insensible to the many

rare and striking qualities of Calpurnius: but her affections can be given

only where there is a soul of very uncommon elevation. Whether Calpurnius

is throughout that, which he seems to be, and whether he is worthy the

love of a being like Fausta, I know not yet, though I am strong in faith

that it is so. In the mean time, a mutual affection is springing up and

growing upon the thin soil of the fancy, and may reach a quick and rank

luxuriance before it shall be discovered that there is nothing more

substantial beneath. But why indulge a single doubt? only, I suppose,

because I would rather Rome should fall than that any harm come to the

heart of Fausta.

* * * * *

It was a little after the noon of this day that the ambassadors, Petronius

and Varro, passed from out the gates of Palmyra, bearing with them a

virtual declaration of war.

The greatest excitement prevails. The streets are already filled with

sights and sounds admonitory of the scenes which are soon to be disclosed.

There is the utmost enthusiasm in every quarter, and upon every face you

behold the confidence and pride of those who, accustomed to conquest, are

about to extend their dominion over new territories, and to whom war is a

game of pleasure rather than a dark hazard, that may end in utter

desolation and ruin. Intrenched within these massy walls, the people of

this gay capital cannot realise war. Its sounds have ever been afar off,

beyond the wide sweep of the deserts; and will be now, so they judge--and

they are scarcely turned for a moment, or by the least remove, from their

accustomed cares or pleasures.

Letter XII.

I lament to hear of the disturbance among your slaves, and of the severity

with which you have thought it necessary to proceed against them. You will

bear me witness that I have often warned you that the cruelty with which

Tiro exercised his authority would lead to difficulties, if not to

violence and murder. I am not surprised to learn his fate: I am indeed

very free to say that I rejoice at it. I rejoice not that you are troubled

in your affairs, but that such an inhuman overseer as Tiro, a man wholly

unworthy the kindness and indulgence with which you have treated him,

should at length be overtaken by a just retribution. That the poison took

effect upon his wife and children I sincerely regret, and wish that some

other mode of destruction had been chosen, whose effects could have been

safely directed and limited, for I do not believe that the least ill-will

existed toward Claudia and her little ones. But rest satisfied, I beseech

you, with the punishments already inflicted: enough have been scourged,

put to the torture, and crucified: let the rest escape. Remember your

disposition, now indulgent, now tyrannical, and lay a restraint upon your

passions if you would save yourself from lasting regrets. It is some proof

that you are looking to yourself more than formerly, that so many have

been imprisoned to wait a further deliberation, and that you are willing

first to ask my opinion. Be assured that further crucifixions would serve

only to exasperate those who survive, and totally alienate them from you,

so that your own life instead of being the more safe, would be much less

so. They will be driven to despair, and say that they may as well

terminate their wretched lives in one way as another, and so end all at

once by an assault upon yourself and Lucilia, which, while it destroyed

you, and so glutted their revenge, could do no more than destroy them--a

fate which they dread now--but which at all times, owing to their

miseries, they dread much less than we suppose, and so are more willing

than we imagine to take the lives of their masters or governors, not

caring for death themselves. A well-timed lenity would now be an act of

policy as well as of virtue. Those whom you have reprieved, being

pardoned, will be bound to you by a sort of gratitude--those of them at

least who put a value upon their lives--and now that Tiro is fairly out of

the way, and his scourgings at an end, they will all value their lives at

a higher rate than before.

But let me especially intercede for Laco and Cælia, with their children.

It was they, who, when I have been at your farm, have chiefly attended

upon me; they have done me many acts of kindness beyond the mere duties

of their office, and have ever manifested dispositions so gentle, and so

much above their condition, that I feel sure they cannot be guilty of

taking any part in the crime. They have been always too happy, to put

their all at risk by such an attempt. Be assured they are innocent; and

they are too good to be sacrificed merely for the effect. There are

others, wretches in all respects, who will serve for this, if enough have

not already suffered.

When will sentiments of justice assert their supremacy in the human mind?

When will our laws and institutions recognise the rights inherent in every

man, as man, and compel their observance? When I reflect that I myself

possess, upon one only of my estates, five hundred slaves, over whom I

wield despotic power, and that each one of these differs not from myself

except in the position into which fortune and our laws have cast him, I

look with a sort of horror upon myself, the laws, and my country which

enacts and maintains them. But if we cannot at once new-model our

institutions and laws, we can do something. By a strict justice, and by

merciful treatment, we can mitigate the evils of their lot who are within

our own power. We can exercise the authority and temper of fathers, and

lay aside in a greater degree than we do, the air and manner of tyrant.

When upon the fields of every farm, as I ride through our interior, I hear

the lash of the task-master, and behold the cross rearing aloft its victim

to poison the air with foetid exhalations and strike terror into all who

toil within their reach, I hate my country and my nature, and long for

some power to reveal itself, I care not of what kind nor in what quarter,

capable to reform a state of society, rotten as this is to its very heart.

You yourself, advocate as you are for the existing order of things, would

be agitated alternately by horror and compassion, were I to relate to you

the scenes described to me by Milo, as having a thousand times been

witnessed by him when in the service of Gallienus. To torture and destroy

his slaves, by the most ingenious devices of cruelty, was his daily

pastime. They were purchased for this very end. When I see you again, I

will give you instances with which I could not soil these pages.

Antiochus, were he in Rome, would be a monster of the same stamp. But all

this is, as I have often mentioned, a necessary accompaniment of such

power as the laws confer upon the owner.

And now, that war has actually broken out between Palmyra and Rome, you

will wish to know what part I intend to take. Your letters imply, that in

such an event you would expect my immediate return. But this pleasure

must, for the present at least, he deferred. I am too deeply interested in

too many here, to allow me to forsake them in a time of so much anxiety,

and as I think of peril too. Zenobia's full consent I have already

obtained: indeed, she is now desirous that I should remain. The services

that I have accidentally rendered her have increased the regard with which

she treats me. I confess too that I am less unwilling to remain than I

was, out of a rooted disapprobation of the violent course of Aurelian. I

cannot, as Calpurnius has done, renounce my country; but I can blame our

emperor. His purposes are without a color of justice: nor are they only

unjust and iniquitous, they are impolitic. I can enter fully into and

defend the feelings and arguments of Palmyra in this direction. Her cause

is in the main a just one. She has done somewhat indeed to provoke a

sensitive and jealous mind; but nothing to warrant the step which Aurelian

is taking. And when I counsel peace, and by concessions too, I do it not

because I hold it right that such concessions should be made, but because

I deem it frantic on the part of Zenobia to encounter the combined power

of Rome, under such a soldier as Aurelian. My sympathies are accordingly

enlisted in behalf of this people as a people; my heart is closely bound

to both the house of Gracchus and Zenobia; and therefore I cannot leave

them. I shall not bear arms against my country; I think I would sooner

die; but in any case of extremity I shall not wear a sword in vain, if by

using it I can save the life or honor of persons dear to me. I am firm in

the belief, that no such extremity will ever present itself; but should it

come, I am ready for it. I cannot but hope that a battle, one or more,

upon the outskirts of the empire, will satisfy the pride of Aurelian, and

convince the Queen, that to contend for empire with him, and Rome at his

back, is vain, and that negotiation will therefore end what passion has

begun. I shall expect no other issue than this. Then, having done all

here, I shall return to Italy, if the Queen relents not, to pass an

unhappy life upon the Tiburtine farm.

Preparations of every kind for the approaching contest are going forward

with activity. The camp of the Queen is forming without the walls upon a

wide and beautiful plain, stretching towards the south. One army will be

formed here chiefly consisting of cavalry, in which lies the strength of

the Queen, and another in the vicinity of Antioch, where a junction will

be effected, and whence the whole will move either toward the Bosphorus or

Egypt, according to the route which, it shall I be learned, Aurelian

intends to pursue.

During these few days that have elapsed since the departure of the

ambassadors, the stir and confusion incident to such a time have

continually increased. In the streets, I meet scarce any who are not

engaged in some service connected with the army. Troops of soldiers are

forming, exercising at their arms, and passing from the city as they are

severally equipped to join the camp. The shops of the armorers resound

with the blows of an innumerable body of artisans manufacturing or

repairing those brilliant suits of steel for which the cavalry of Zenobia

are distinguished. Immense repositories of all the various weapons of our

modern warfare, prepared by the Queen against seasons of emergency,

furnish forth arms of the most perfect workmanship and metal to all who

offer themselves for the expedition. Without the walls in every

direction, the eye beholds clouds of dust raised by different bodies of

the Queen's forces, as they pour in from their various encampments to one

central point. Trains of sumptuary elephants and camels, making a part of

every legion as it comes up, and stretching their long lines from the

verge of the plain to the very walls, contribute a fresh beauty and

interest to the scene.

Within the camp, whatever the tumult and confusion may be without, every

thing is conducted with the most admirable order, and with the observance

of a discipline as exact, if not as severe, as that of Vespasian, or

Aurelian himself. Here are to be seen the commanders of the chief

divisions of the army inspecting the arms and equipments of each

individual soldier, and not with less diligence inquiring into the mettle

and points of the horse he rides. Every horse, pronounced in any way

defective, is rejected from the service and another procured. The Queen's

stable has been exhausted in providing in this manner substitutes for such

as have been set aside as unworthy.

Zenobia herself is the most active and laborious of all. She is in every

place, seeing with her own eyes that every arrangement and provision

ordered to be made is completed, and that in the most perfect manner. All

the duties of a general are performed by her, with a freedom, a power, and

a boldness, that fills one with astonishment who is acquainted with those

opposite qualities which render her, as a woman, the most lovely and

fascinating of her sex. She is seen sometimes driving rapidly through the

streets in an open chariot, of the antique form; but more frequently on

horseback, with a small body of attendants, who have quite enough to do to

keep pace with her, so as to catch from her the orders which she rapidly

issues, and then execute them in every part of the camp and city. She

inspires all who behold her with her own spirit. In every soldier and

leader you behold something of the same alertness and impetuosity of

movement which are so remarkable in her. She is the universal model; and

the confidence in the resources of her genius is universal and boundless.

'Let our courage and conduct,' they say, 'be only in some good proportion

to our Queen's, and we may defy Rome and the world.' As the idea of naught

but conquest ever crosses their minds, the animation--even gayety that

prevails in the camp and throughout the ranks is scarcely to be believed,

as it is, I doubt not, unparalleled in the history of war. Were she a

goddess, and omnipotent, the trust in her could not be more unwavering.

I have just encountered Calpurnius returning from the palace of the

Queen, whither he has been to offer his services during the war, in any

capacity in which it might please her to employ him.

'What was your reception?' said I.

'Such as Fausta had assured me of. She gives me a hearty welcome to her

camp, and assigns me a legion of horse. And, in addition, one more charge

dearer and yet more anxious a thousand-fold.'

'May I know it?' said I, but readily surmising the nature of it.

'It is,' he replied with visible emotion, 'Fausta herself.'

'It is fixed then that she accompanies the Queen?'

'She entreats, and the Queen consents.'

'Would that she could be turned from this purpose, but I suppose the

united power of the East could not do it. To be near Zenobia, and if evil

should befall her to share it, or to throw herself as a shield between the

Queen and death, is what she pants for more than for renown, though it

should be double that of Semiramis.'

'Lucius, have you urged every reason, and used all the power you possess

over her, to dissuade her?'

'I have done all I have dared to do. The decisions of some minds, you

know, with the motives which sway them, we too much revere to oppose to

them our own. Girl though Fausta be, yet when I see by the lofty

expression of her countenance, her firm and steadfast eye, that she has

taken her part, I have no assurance sufficient to question the rectitude

of her determination, or essay to change it. I have more faith in her

in myself.'

'Yet it must never be,' said my brother with earnestness; 'she could never

support the fatigues of such a campaign, and it must not be permitted that

she should encounter the dangers and horrors of actual combat. I have

learned that at the palace which, while it has dismissed the most painful

apprehensions of one sort, has filled me with others more tolerable, but

yet intolerable. How, Lucius? has it happened that your heart, soft in

most of its parts, on one side has been adamant?'

'The way of the heart,' I said, 'like the way of Providence, is

mysterious. I know not. Perhaps it was that I knew her longer in Rome and

more closely than you, and the sentiment always uppermost toward her has

been that of a brother's love. Hers toward me has never been other than

the free, unrestrained affection of a sister. But you have not seen the

Princess?'

'I have not.'

'That will complete the explanation. The Queen rejects me; but I do not

despair. But to return to Fausta. As no force could withhold her from the

army, I thank the gods that in you she will find a companion and defender,

and that to you the Queen has committed her. Fail her not, Calpurnius, in

the hour of need. You do not know, for your eye has but taken in her

outward form, what a jewel, richer than Eastern monarch ever knew, is

entrusted to your care. Keep it as you would your own life, nay, your life

will be well given for its safety. Forgive me, if in this I seem to charge

you as an elder. Remember that you I do not know, Fausta I do. Of you I

scarcely know more than that you are a Piso, and that the very soul of

honor ought to dwell within you. The Queen's ready confidence in you, lays

you under obligations heavy as injunctions from the gods to fidelity. If,

as you journey on toward Antioch, the opportunities of the way throw you

together, and your heart is won by your nearer knowledge of her sweet

qualities as well as great ones, as your eye has already been, ask not,

seek not, for hers, but after a close questioning of yourself whether you

are worthy of her. Of your life and the true lineaments of your soul, you

know every thing, she knows nothing; but she is more free and unsuspicious

than a child, and without looking further than the show and color of

honesty and truth, will surrender up her heart where her fancy leads,

trusting to find according to her faith, and to receive all that she

gives. Brother though you be, I here invoke the curses of the gods upon

your head, if the faintest purpose of dishonest or deceptive dealing have

place within you.'

'Your words,' said Calpurnius in reply--a wholesome and natural expression

of indignation spreading over his countenance, which inspired more

confidence than any thing he could say--'your words, Lucius, are earnest

and something sharp. But I bear them without complaint, for the sake of

the cause in which you have used them. I blame you not. It is true, I am a

stranger both to yourself and Fausta, and it were monstrous to ask

confidence before time has proved me. Leave it all to time. My conduct

under this trust shall be my trial. Not till our return from Antioch will

I aim at more than the happiness to be her companion and guard. The noble

Otho will be near us, to whom you may commit us both.'

'Brother,' I rejoined, 'I doubt you not; but where our treasure is great,

we are tormented by imaginary fears, and we guard it by a thousand

superfluous cares, What I have said has implied the existence of doubts

and apprehensions, but in sober truth they were forced into existence. My

nature from the first has been full of trust in you; but this very

promptness to confide, my anxious fears converted to a fault, and urged

suspicion as a duty. Your countenance and your words have now inspired me

with an assurance, not, I am certain, to be ever shaken, in your virtues.

It shall be my joy to impart the same to Gracchus. Fausta shall be left

free to the workings of her own mind and heart.'

I should not have been justified, it seems to me, in saying less than

this, though I said it with apprehensions, many and grave, of a breach

between us, which perhaps time might never heal. It has ended in a deep

and settled conviction that the character of Calpurnius is what it at

first appears to be. Persian duplicity has made no lodgment within him, of

that I am sure. And where you feel sure of sincerity, almost any other

fault may be borne.

The army has taken up its march, and the city is deprived of its best and

bravest spirits--Zenobia and Fausta, those kindred souls, are gone. How

desolate is this vast palace! The loss of Gracchus and Fausta seems the

loss of all. A hundred attendant slaves leave it still empty.

A period of the most active preparation has been closed to-day, by the

departure of as well appointed an army as ever issued from the Prætorian

camps. It was a spectacle as beautiful as my eyes ever beheld--and as sad.

Let me set before you the events of the day.

As I descended to the apartment where we take together our morning meal,

and which we were now for the last time to partake in each other's

company, I found Fausta already there, and surveying with sparkling eyes

and a flushed cheek a suit of the most brilliant armor, which having been

made by the Queen's workmen, and by her order, had just now been brought

and delivered to her.

'I asked the honor,' said the person with whom she was conversing, 'to

bring it myself, who have made it with the same care as the Queen's, of

the same materials, and after the same fashion. So it was her order to do.

It will set, lady, believe me, as easy as a riding dress, though it be all

of the most impenetrable steel. The polish too is such, that neither arrow

nor javelin need be feared, they can but touch and glance. Hercules could

not indent this surface. Let me reveal to you diverse secret and perfect

springs and clasps, the use of which you should be well acquainted with.

Yet it differs not so much from that in which you have performed your

exercises, but you will readily comprehend the manner of its adjustment.'

He then went through with his demonstrations, and departed.

'This is beautiful indeed!' I said, as I surveyed and handled parts of the

armor; 'the eye can hardly bear it when the rays of the sun fall upon it.

But I wish it was fairly back again in the shop of the armored'

'That would he,' said Fausta, 'only to condemn me to an older and worse

one; and if you should wish that away too, it would be only to send me

into the ranks defenceless. Surely that you would not do?'

'The gods forbid! I only mean that I would rather these walls, Fausta,

should be your defence. You were not made, whatever you may think, to

brave the dangers of the desert and the horrors of a war. Do you remember

at the amphitheatre you hid your eyes from the cruel sights of the arena?

I doubt not your courage; but it is not after your heart.'

'From the useless barbarities of the circus I might indeed turn away my

eyes, and yet I think with perfect consistency strike my lance into the

heart of a man who came against my country or my Queen, nor even blench.

But do not suppose that it is with any light or childish joy that I

resolve to follow in the steps of Zenobia to the field of slaughter. I

would far rather sit here in the midst of security and peace, making mimic

war on my embroidery, or tuning my voice and harp, with Gracchus and you

to listen and applaud. But there is that within me that forbids my stay. I

am urged from within by a voice which seems as the voice of a god, to do

according to my strength, for what may be the last struggle of our country

against the encroachments and ambition of Rome. You may deem it little

that a woman can do?'

'I confess I am of opinion that many a substitute could do Palmyra a

better service than even the arm of Fausta. A woman may do much and

bravely, but a man may do more.'

'Therein, Lucius, am I persuaded you err. If it were only that, in the

language of Zahdas, I added so many pounds weight of bone and flesh, by

adding myself to the Queen's troops, I would stay at home, There are

heavier arms than mine, for mine are slight, and sturdier limbs, for mine

in spite of the sports of the field are still a woman's. But you know

nothing of Palmyra if you know not this, that her victories have been

won, not by the arm, but by the presence of Zenobia; to be led to the

onset by a woman, and that woman Zenobia--it is this that has infused a

spirit and an enthusiasm into our soldiery that has rendered them

irresistible. Were it a thousand against ten thousand, not a native

Palmyrene would shrink from the trial, with Zenobia at their head. I am

not Zenobia, Lucius, but what she can do for an army, I can do for a

legion. Mark the sensation, when this morning Zenobia presents herself to

the army, and even when Fausta wheels into the ranks, and acknowledge

that I have uttered a truth.'

'There must be truth in what you say, for were I in your train I can feel

how far I should follow you, and when forsake you. But what you say only

fills me with new apprehensions, and renders me the more anxious to detain

you. What but certain death awaits you if you are to lead the way?'

'And why should I not die, as well as another? And is it of more

consequence that Fausta, the daughter of Gracchus, should die upon a bed

of down, and beneath silken canopies, than that the common soldier should,

who falls at her side? How could I die hotter than at the head of a

legion, whom, as I fell, I saw sweeping on like a tempest to emulate and

revenge my death?'

'But Gracchus--has he another Fausta, or another child?'

Her eyes were bent to the ground, and for a few moments she was buried in

thought. They were filled with tears as she raised them and said,

'You may well suppose, Lucius, having witnessed, as you have, what the

love is which I bear Gracchus, and how his life is bound up in mine, that

this has been my heaviest thought. But it has not prevailed with me to

change my purpose, and ought not to do so. Could I look into futurity, and

know that while I fell upon the plains of Antioch, or on the sands of the

desert, he returned to these walls to wear out, childless and in solitude,

the remnant of his days, my weakness I believe would yield, and I should

prefer my parent to my country. But the future is all dark. And it may as

well be, that either we shall both fall, or both return; or that he may

fall and I survive. It is unworthy of me, is it not then, to consider too

curiously such chances? The only thing certain and of certain advantage is

this--I can do my country, as I deem it, a signal service by joining her

forces in this hour of peril. To this I cleave, and leave the rest to the

disposal of the gods. But come, urge me no more, Lucius; my mind is

finally resolved, and it but serves to darken the remaining hours. See,

Gracchus and Calpurnius are come--let us to the tables.'

This last meal was eaten in silence, save the few required words of

courtesy.

Soon as it was over, Fausta, springing from her seat, disappeared,

hastening to her apartments. She returned in a few moments, her dress

changed and prepared for her armor.

'Now, Lucius,' she exclaimed, 'your hour of duty has come, which is to fit

upon me this queenly apparel. Show your dexterity, and prove that you too

have seen the wars, by the grace with which you shall do your service.'

'These pieces differ not greatly,' I said, 'from those which I have worn

in Gaul and Germany, and were they to be fastened on my own limbs, or a

comrade's, the task were an easy one. I fear lest I may use too rough a

hand in binding on this heavy iron.'

'O, never fear--there, that is well. The Queen's armorer has said truly;

this is easy as a robe of silk. Now these clasps--are they not well made?

will they not catch?'

'The clasps are perfect, Fausta, but my eye is dim. Here--clasp them

yourself;' and I turned away.

'Lucius, Lucius, are you a Roman, with eyes so melting? Julia were a

better hand-maid. But one thing remains, and that must be done by no other

hand than yours--crown me now with this helmet.'

I took it from her and placed it upon her head, saying, as I did it, 'The

gods shield you from danger, dear Fausta, and when you have either

triumphed or suffered defeat, return you again to this happy roof! Now for

my services allow me this reward'--and for the first time since she was a

girl I kissed her forehead.

She was now a beautiful vision to behold as ever lighted upon the earth.

Her armor revealed with exactness the perfection of her form, and to her

uncommon beauty added its own, being of the most brilliant steel, and

frequently studded with jewels of dazzling lustre. Her sex was revealed

only by her hair, which, parting over her forehead, fell towards either

eye, and then was drawn up and buried in her helmet. The ease with which

she moved showed how well she had accustomed herself, by frequent

exercises, to the cumbrous load she bore. I could hardly believe, as she

paced the apartment, issuing her final orders to her slaves and attendants

who pressed around, that I was looking upon a woman reared in all the

luxury of the East. Much as I had been accustomed to the sight of Zenobia,

performing the part of an emperor, I found it difficult to persuade

myself, that when I looked upon Fausta, changing so completely her sex, it

was any thing more than an illusion.

Gracchus and Calpurnius now joined us, each, like Fausta, arrayed in the

armor of the Queen's cavalry.

'Fausta,' said Gracchus hastily, 'the hour is come that we were at the

camp; our horses wait us in the court-yard--let us mount. Farewell,

Lucius Piso,' continued he, as we moved toward the rear of the palace;

'would you were to make one of our company; but as that cannot be, I

bequeath to you my place, my honors, and my house. Be ready to receive us

with large hospitality and a philosophical composure, when we return

loaded with the laurels of victory and the spoils of your countrymen. It

is fortunate, that as we lose you, we have Calpurnius, who seems of the

true warrior breed. Never, Lucius, has my eye lighted upon a nobler pair

than this. Observe them. The Queen, careful of our Fausta, has given her

in special charge to your brother. I thank her. By his greater activity

and my more prudent counsel, I trust to bring her again to Palmyra with a

fame not less than Zenobia's.

'I can spare the fame,' I replied, 'so I see her once more in Palmyra,

herself unharmed and her country at peace.'

'Palmyra would no longer be itself without her,' rejoined the father.

We were now in the court-yard, where we found the horses fully

caparisoned, awaiting their riders. Fausta's was her favorite Arab, of a

jet black color and of a fierce and fiery temper, hardly to be managed by

the Saracen, whose sole office it was to attend upon him; while in the

hands of Fausta, though still spirited almost to wildness, he was yet

docile and obedient. Soon as she was mounted, although before it had been

difficult to hold him, he became quiet and calm.

'See the power of woman,' said Gracchus; 'were Antiochus here, he would

look upon this as but another proof that the gods are abandoning Palmyra

to the sway of women.'

'It is,' said Fausta, 'simply the power of gentleness. My Saracen operates

through fear, and I through love. My hand laid softly upon his neck gains

more a thousand fold than the lash laid hardly upon his back.'

Mounting my horse, which Milo stood holding for me, we then sallied out of

the court-yard gate toward the camp.

The city itself was all pouring forth upon the plains in its vicinity.

The crowds choked the streets as they passed out, so that our progress

was slow. Arriving at length, we turned toward the pavilion of the Queen,

pitched over against the centre of the army. There we stood, joined by

others, awaiting her arrival; for she had not yet left the palace. We had

not stood long, before the braying of trumpets and other warlike

instruments announced her approach. We turned, and looking toward the

gate of the city, through which we had but now passed, saw Zenobia,

having on either side Longinus and Zabdas, and preceded and followed by a

select troop of horse, advancing at her usual speed toward the pavilion.

She was mounted upon her far-famed white Numidian, for power an elephant,

for endurance a dromedary, for fleetness a very Nicoean, and who had been

her companion in all the battles by which she had gained her renown and

her empire.

Calpurnius was beside himself: he had not before seen her when assuming

all her state. 'Did eye ever look upon aught so like a celestial

apparition? It is a descent from other regions; I can swear 'tis no

mortal--still less a woman. Fausta, this puts to shame your eulogies,

swollen as I termed them.'

I did not wonder at his amazement, for I myself shared it, though I had

seen her so often. The object that approached us truly seemed rather a

moving blaze of light than an armed woman, which the eye and the reason

declared it to be, with such gorgeous magnificence was she arrayed. The

whole art of the armorer had been exhausted in her appointments. The

caparison of her steed, sheathed with burnished gold, and thick studded

with precious stones of every various hue, reflected an almost intolerable

splendor as the rays of a hot morning sun fell upon it. She too herself,

being clothed in armor of polished steel, whose own fiery brightness was

doubled by the diamonds--that was the only jewel she wore--sown with

profusion all over its more prominent parts, could he gazed upon scarcely

with more ease than the sun himself, whose beams were given back from it

with undiminished glory. In her right hand she held the long slender lance

of the cavalry; over her shoulders hung a quiver well loaded with arrows,

while at her side depended a heavy Damascus blade. Her head was surmounted

by a steel helmet, which left her face wholly uncovered, and showed her

forehead, like Fausta's shaded by the dark hair, which, while it was the

only circumstance that revealed the woman, added to the effect of a

countenance unequalled for a marvellous union of feminine beauty, queenly

dignity, and masculine power. Sometimes it has been her usage, upon such

occasions, to appear with arms bare and gloved hands; they were now cased,

like the rest of the body, in plates of steel.

'Calpurnius,' said Fausta, 'saw you ever in Persia such horsemanship? See

now, as she draws nearer, with what grace and power she moves. Blame you

the enthusiasm of this people?'

'I more than share it,' he replied; 'it is reward enough for my long

captivity, at last to follow such a leader. Many a time, as Zenobia has

in years past visited my dreams, and I almost fancied myself in her

train, I little thought that the happiness I now experience was to become

a reality. But hark! how the shout of welcome goes up from this

innumerable host.'

No sooner was the Queen arrived where we stood, and the whole extended

lines became aware of her presence, than the air was filled with the clang

of trumpets and the enthusiastic cries of the soldiery, who waved aloft

their arms and made a thousand expressive signs of most joyful greeting.

When this hearty salutation, commencing at the centre, had died away along

the wings, stretching one way to the walls of the city, and the other

toward the desert, Zenobia rode up nearer the lines, and being there

surrounded by the ranks which were in front, and by a crowd of the great

officers of the army, spoke to them in accordance with her custom.

Stretching out her hand, as if she would ask the attention of the

multitude, a deep silence ensued, and in a voice clear and strong, she

thus addressed them:

'Men and soldiers of Palmyra! Is this the last time that you are to gather

together in this glittering array, and go forth as lords of the whole

East? Conquerors in so many wars, are you now about to make an offering of

yourselves and your homes to the emperor of Rome? Am I, who have twice led

you to the gates of Ctesiphon, now to be your leader to the footstool of

Aurelian? Are you thinking of any thing but victory? Is there one in all

these ranks who doubts whether the same fate that once befel Probus shall

now befal Aurelian? If there be, let him stand forth! Let him go and

intrench himself within the walls of Palmyra. We want him not. (The

soldiers brandished and clashed their arms.) Victory, soldiers, belongs to

those who believe. Believe that you can do so, and we will return with a

Roman army captive at our chariot wheels. Who should put trust in

themselves, if not the men and soldiers of Palmyra? Whose memory is long

enough to reach backward to a defeat? What was the reign of Odenatus but

an unbroken triumph? Are you now, for the first time, to fly or fall

before an enemy? And who the enemy? Forget it not--Rome! and Aurelian! the

greatest empire and the greatest soldier of the world. Never before was so

large a prize within your reach. Never before fought you on a stage with

the whole world for spectators. Forget not too that defeat will be not

only defeat, but ruin! The loss of a battle will be not only so many dead

and wounded, but the loss of empire! For Rome resolves upon our

subjugation. We must conquer or we must perish, and forever lose our city,

our throne, and our name. Are you ready to write yourselves subjects and

slaves of Rome!--citizens of a Roman province? and forfeit the proud name

of Palmyrene?' (Loud and indignant cries rose from the surrounding ranks.)

'If not, you have only to remember the plains of Egypt and of Persia; and

the spirit that burned within your bosoms then will save you now, and

bring you back to these walls, your brows bound about with the garlands of

victory. Soldiers! strike your tents! and away to the desert!'

Shouts long and loud, mingled with the clash of arms, followed these few

words of the Queen. Her own name was heard above all. "Long live the great

Zenobia!" ran along the ranks from the centre to the extremes, and from

the extremes back again to the centre. It seemed as if, when her name had

once been uttered, they could not cease--through the operation of some

charm--to repeat it again and again, coupled too with a thousand phrases

of loyalty and affection.

The Queen, as she ended, turned toward the Pavilion, where dismounting

she entered, and together with her, her counsellors, the great officers of

the army and empire, her family, and friends. Here was passed an hour in

the interchange of the words and signs of affection between those who were

about to depart upon this uncertain enterprise, and those who were to

remain. The Queen would fain inspire all with her light, bold, and

confident spirit, but it could not prevail to banish the fears and sorrows

that filled many hearts. Julia's eyes never moved from her mother's face,

or only to rest on Fausta's, whose hand she held clasped in her own.

Zenobia often turned towards her with a look, in which the melting

tenderness of the mother contended but too successfully with the calm

dignity of the Queen, and bore testimony to the strong affection working

at the heart. She would then, saying a word or two, turn away again, and

mingle with those who made less demand upon her sympathies. Livia was

there too, and the flaxen-haired Faustula--Livia, gay even, through excess

of life--Faustula sad and almost terrified at the scene, and clinging to

Julia as to her haven of safety. The Cæsars were also there, insignificant

as always, but the youngest, Vabalathus, armed for the war; the others are

not to be drawn away from the luxuries and pleasures of the city.

Antiochus, sullen and silent, was of the number too, stalking with folded

arms apart from the company, or else arm in arm with one of his own color,

and seeming to be there rather because he feared to be absent, than

because he derived any pleasure from the scene. It was with an effort, and

with reluctance, that he came forward from his hiding places, and with

supreme awkwardness, yet with an air of haughtiness and pride, paid his

court to the Queen.

As he retreated from his audience, the Queen's eye sought me, and

approaching me she said, 'Piso, I am not prone to suspicion, and fear is a

stranger to my heart: but I am told to distrust Antiochus. I have been

warned to observe him. I cannot now do it, for I depart while he remains

in Palmyra. It has been thrown out that he has designs of a treasonable

nature, and that the Princess Julia is connected with them. He is an

object too contemptible to deserve my thought, and I have not been willing

so much as to name the circumstance to any of the council. He may prove an

amusing and interesting subject for your speculation while we are gone.'

This was said in a partly serious, partly trifling vein. I answered her,

saying, 'that I could not but fear lest there might be more foundation for

the warnings that had been given her than she was disposed to allow. He

was indeed insignificant and contemptible in character, but he was

malignant and restless. Many an insect, otherwise every way despicable, is

yet armed with a deadly sting. A swarm may conquer even the monarch of the

forest. Antiochus, mean as he is, may yet inflict a secret and fatal

wound; and he is not alone; there are those who affect him. I believe you

have imposed no task which as a Roman I may not innocently perform. Rest

assured that if watchfulness of mine may avert the shadow of an evil from

your head, it shall not be wanting. I would that you yourself could look

more seriously upon this information, but I perceive you to be utterly

incredulous.'

'It is so indeed,' she replied. 'It were better for me perhaps were it

otherwise. Had I heeded the rumors which reached me of the base Mæonius,

Odenatus had now perhaps been alive and at my side. But it is against the

grain of my nature. I can neither doubt nor fear.'

Sounds from without now indicated that the camp was broken up, and the

army in motion. The moment of separation had come. The Queen hastily

approached her daughters, and impressing a mother's kisses upon them

turned quickly away, and springing upon her horse was soon lost to sight

as she made her way through the ranks, to assume her place at their head.

Fausta lingered long in the embraces of Julia, who, to part with her,

seemed as if about to lose as much more as she had just lost in Zenobia.

'These our friends being now gone, let us,' said the Princess, 'who

remain, ascend together the walls of the city, and from the towers of

the gate observe the progress of the army so long as it shall remain

in sight.'

Saying this, we returned to the city, and from the highest part of the

walls watched the departing glories of the most magnificent military array

I had ever beheld. It was long after noon before the last of the train of

loaded elephants sank below the horizon. I have seen larger armies upon

the Danube, and in Gaul: but never have I seen one that in all its

appointments presented so imposing a spectacle. This was partly owing to

the greater proportion of cavalry, and to the admixture of the long lines

of elephants with their burdens, their towers and litters; but more

perhaps to the perfectness with which each individual, be he on horse or

foot, be he servant, slave or master, is furnished, respecting both arms,

armor, and apparel. Julia beheld it, if with sorrow, with pride also.

'Between an army like this,' she said, 'so appointed, and so led and

inflamed, and another like that of Rome coming up under a leader like

Aurelian, how sharp and deadly must be the encounter! What a multitude of

this and that living host, now glorious in the blaze of arms, and burning

with desires of conquest, will fall and perish, pierced by weapons, or

crushed by elephants, nor ever hear the shout of victory! A horrid death,

winding up a feverish dream. And of that number how likely to be Fausta

and Zenobia!'

'Why, sister,' said Faustula, whom I held, and in pointing out to whom the

most remarkable objects of the strange scene I had been occupied, 'why

does our mother love to go away and kill the Romans? I am sure she would

not like to kill you,'--looking up in my face,--'and are not you a Roman?

She will not let me hurt even a little fly or ant, but tells me they feel

as much to be killed, as if Sapor were to put his great foot on me and

tread me into the sand.'

'But the Romans,' said Julia, 'are coming to take away our city from us,

and perhaps do us a great deal of harm, and must they not be hindered?'

'But,' replied Faustula, 'would they do it if Zenobia asked them not to do

it? Did you ever know any body who could help doing as she asked them? I

wish Aurelian could only have come here and heard her speak, and seen her

smile, and I know he would not have wanted to hurt her. If I were a Queen,

I would never fight.'

'I do not believe you would,' said I; 'you do not seem as if you could

hurt any body or any thing.'

'And now is not Zenobia better than I? I think perhaps she is only going

to frighten the Romans, and then coming home again.'

'O no--do not think so,' said Livia; 'has not Zenobia fought a great many

battles before this? If she did not fight battles, we should have no city

to live in.'

'If it is so good to fight battles, why does she prevent me from

quarrelling, or even speaking unkindly? I think she ought to teach me to

fight. I do not believe that men or women ought to fight any more than

children; and I dare say if they first saw and talked with one another

before they fought, as I am told to do, they never would do it. I find

that if I talk and tell what I think, then I do not want to quarrel.--See!

is that Zenobia? How bright she shines! I wish she would come back.'

'Wait a little while, and she will come again,' said Livia, 'and bring

Aurelian perhaps with her. Should you not like to see Aurelian?'

'No, I am sure I should not. I do not want to see any one that does not

love Zenobia.'

So the little child ran on, often uttering truths, too obviously truths

for mankind to be governed by them, yet containing the best philosophy of

life. Truth and happiness are both within easy reach. We miss them because

they are so near. We look over them, and grasp at distant and more

imposing objects, wrapped in the false charms which distance lends.

During the absence of the Queen and Fausta, we have, in agreement with

the promise we made, repeated our visit more than once to the retreat of

the Christian Hermit; from whom I have drawn almost all that remains to be

known, concerning the truths of his religion. Both Julia and Livia have

been my companions. Of the conversations at these visits, I shall hope at

some future time to furnish you with full accounts.

In the meanwhile, Farewell.

Letter XIII.

These few days having passed in the manner I have described, our

impatience has been relieved by news from the West. We learn that

Aurelian, having appointed Illyricum as the central point for assembling

his forces, has, marching thence through Thrace, and giving battle on the

way to the Goths, at length reached Byzantium, whence crossing the

Bosphorus, it is his purpose to subdue the Asiatic provinces, and

afterwards advance toward Palmyra. The army of the Queen, judging by the

last accounts received by her messengers, must now have reached the

neighborhood of Antioch, and there already perhaps have encountered the

forces of the Emperor.

The citizens begin at length to put on the appearance of those who feel

that something of value is at stake. The Portico is forsaken, or

frequented only by such as hope to hear news by going there. The streets

are become silent and solitary. I myself partake of the general gloom. I

am often at the palace and at the house of Longinus. The dwelling, or

rather should I not term it the spacious palace of the minister, affords

me delightful hours of relaxation and instruction, as I sit and converse

with its accomplished lord, or wander among the compartments of his vast

library, or feast the senses and imagination upon the choice specimens of

sculpture and painting, both ancient and modern, which adorn the walls,

the ceilings, the stair-ways, and, indeed, every part of the extensive

interior. Here I succeed in forgetting the world and all its useless

troubles, and am fairly transported into those regions of the fancy, where

the airs are always soft and the skies serene, where want is unknown, and

solicitations to vice come not, where men are just and true and kind, and

women the goddesses we make them in our dreams, and the whole of existence

is a calm summer's day, without storm of the inward or outward world. And

when upon these delicious moments the philosopher himself breaks in, the

dream is not dissolved, but stands rather converted to an absolute

reality, for it then shines with the actual presence of a god. It is with

unwillingness that I acknowledge my real state, and consent to return to

this living world of anxieties and apprehensions in which I now dwell.

* * * * *

I am just returned from the palace and the Princess Julia. While there

seated in conversation with her, Longinus, and Livia, a courier was

suddenly announced from Zenobia. He entered, we stamped upon his features,

and delivered letters into the hands of Longinus. Alas! Alas! for Palmyra.

The intelligence is of disaster and defeat! The countenance of the Greek

grew pale as he read. He placed the despatches in silence in the hands of

Julia, having finished them, and hastily withdrew.

The sum of the news is this. A battle has been fought before Antioch, and

the forces of the Queen completely routed. It appears that upon the

approach of Aurelian, the several provinces of Asia Minor, which by

negotiation and conquest had by Zenobia been connected with her kingdom,

immediately returned to their former allegiance. The cities opened their

gates and admitted the armies of the conqueror. Tyana alone of all the

Queen's dominions in that quarter opposed the progress of the Emperor, and

this strong-hold was soon by treachery delivered into his power. Thence he

pressed on without pause to Antioch, where he found the Queen awaiting

him. A battle immediately ensued. At first, the Queen's forces obtained

decided advantages, and victory seemed ready to declare for her as always

before, when the gods decreed otherwise, and the day was lost--but lost,

in the indignant language of the Queen, 'not in fair and honorable fight,

but through the baseness of a stratagem rather to have been expected from

a Carthaginian than the great Aurelian.'

'Our troops,' she writes, 'had driven the enemy from, his ground at every

point. Notwithstanding the presence of Aurelian, and the prodigies of

valor by which he distinguished himself anew, and animated his soldiers,

our cavalry, led by the incomparable Zabdas, bore him and his legions

backwards, till apparently discomfited by the violence of the onset, the

Roman horse gave way and fled in all directions. The shout of victory

arose from our ranks, which now broke, and in the disorder of a flushed

and conquering army, scattered in hot pursuit of the flying foe. Now, when

too late, we saw the treachery of the enemy. Our horse, heavy-armed as you

know, were led on by the retreating Romans into a broken and marshy

ground, where their movements were in every way impeded, and thousands

were suddenly fixed immovable in the deep morass. At this moment, the

enemy, by preconcerted signals, with inconceivable rapidity, being

light-armed, formed; and, returning upon our now scattered forces, made

horrible slaughter of all who had pushed farthest from the main body of

the army. Dismay seized our soldiers, the panic spread, increased by the

belief that a fresh army had come up and was entering the field, and our

whole duty centered in forming and covering our retreat. This, chiefly

through the conduct of Calpurnius Piso, was safely effected; the Romans

being kept at bay while we drew together, and then under cover of the

approaching night fell back to a new and strong position.

'I attempt not, Longinus, to make that better which is bad. I reveal the

whole truth, not softening nor withholding a single feature of it, that

your mind may be possessed of the exact state of our affairs, and know how

to form its judgments. Make that which I write public, to the extent and

in the manner that shall seem best to you.

'After mature deliberation, we have determined to retreat further yet, and

take up our position under the walls of Emesa. Here, I trust in the gods,

we shall redeem that which we have lost.'

In a letter to Julia the Queen says, 'Fausta has escaped the dangers of

the battle; selfishly perhaps dividing her from Piso, she has shared my

tent and my fortunes, and has proved herself worthy of every confidence

that has been reposed in her. She is my inseparable companion in the tent,

in the field, and on the road, by night and by day. Give not way to

despondency, dear Julia. Fortune, which has so long smiled upon me, is not

now about to forsake me. There is no day so long and bright that clouds do

not sail by and cast their little shadows. But the sun is behind them.

Our army is still great and in good heart. The soldiers receive me,

whenever I appear, with their customary acclamations. Fausta shares this

enthusiasm. Wait without anxiety or fear for news from Emesa.'

When we had perused and re-perused the despatches of the Queen, and were

brooding in no little despondency over their contents, Longinus

re-entering said to me,

'And what, Piso, may I ask, is your judgment of the course which Aurelian

will now pursue? I see not that I can offend in asking, or you in

answering. I have heretofore inclined to the belief that Rome, having

atoned her injured honor by a battle, would then prefer to convert Palmyra

into a useful ally, by the proposal of terms which she could accept; terms

which would leave her an independent existence as formerly, in friendly

alliance with, though in no sense subject to Rome. But neither preceding

the battle at Antioch, nor since, does it appear that terms have been so

much as proposed or discussed. I can hardly believe that Aurelian, even if

victory should continue to sit upon his eagles, would desire to drive the

Queen to extremities, and convert this whole people into a united and

infuriated enemy. If he be willing to do this, he little understands the

best interests of Rome, and proves only this, that though he may be a good

soldier, he is a bad sovereign, and really betrays his country while

achieving the most brilliant victories.'

'I am obliged to say,' I replied, 'that I have wavered in my judgment.

Sometimes, when I have thought of policy, of the past services of Palmyra,

and of Persia, I have deemed it hardly possible that Aurelian should have

had any other purpose in this expedition than to negotiate with Zenobia,

under the advantages of an armed force; that at the most and worst, a

single battle would suffice, and the differences which exist be then

easily adjusted. But then, when again I have thought of the character of

Aurelian, I have doubted these conclusions, and believed that conquest

alone will satisfy him; and that he will never turn back till he can call

Palmyra a Roman province. From what has now transpired at Antioch, and

especially from what has not transpired, I am strengthened in this last

opinion. One or the other must fall. I believe it has come to this.'

'One or the other may fall at Emesa,' said Liviay 'but no power can ever

force the walls of Palmyra.'

'I am ready to believe with you, Princess,' said Longinus, 'but I trust

never to see a Roman army before them. Yet if your last judgment of

Aurelian be the true one, Piso, it may happen. We are not a power to pour

forth the hordes of Rome or Germany. We have valor, but not numbers.'

'Ought not,' said Julia, 'every provision to be made, even though there be

but the remotest possibility of the city sustaining a siege?'

'The most fruitful imagination,' replied Longinus, 'could hardly suggest a

single addition to what is already done, to render Palmyra impregnable.

And long before the food now within the walls could be exhausted, any

army, save one of Arabs of the desert, lying before them, must itself

perish. But these things the council and senate will maturely weigh.'

Longinus departed.

At the same moment that he left the apartment, that Indian slave whom I

have often seen sitting at the feet of the Queen entered where we were,

and addressing a few words to the Princess Julia again retreated. I could

not but remark again, what I had remarked before, her graceful beauty, and

especially the symmetry of her form and elasticity of her step. There was

now also an expression in the countenance which, notwithstanding its dark

beauty, I liked not, as I had often before liked it not, when I had seen

her in the presence of Zenobia.

'Princess,' said I, 'is the slave who has just departed sincere in her

attachment to Zenobia?'

'I cannot doubt it,' she replied; 'at least I have observed nothing to

cause me to doubt it. Thinking herself injured and degraded by Zenobia,

she may perhaps feel toward her as the captive feels toward the

conqueror. But if this be so, the lip breathes it not. To the Queen she

is, as far as the eye may judge, fondly attached, and faithful to the

trusts reposed in her.'

'But why,' I asked, 'thinks she herself injured and degraded? Is she not

what she seems to be, a slave?'

'She is a slave by the chances of fortune and war, not by descent or

purchase. She was of the household of Sapor, when his tents, wives, and

slaves fell into the hands of Odenatus, and by him, as we learned, had

been taken in his wars with an Indian nation. In her own country she was a

princess, and were she now there, were queen. Zenobia's pride is gratified

by using her for the purposes she does, nor has it availed to intercede in

her behalf. Yet has it always seemed as if a strong attachment drew the

fair slave to our mother, and sure I am that Zenobia greatly esteems her,

and, save in one respect, maintains and holds her rather as an equal than

inferior. We all love her. Others beside yourself have questioned her

truth, but we have heeded them not. Upon what, may I ask, have you founded

a doubt of her sincerity?'

'I can scarcely say,' I rejoined, 'that I have ground to doubt her

sincerity. Indeed, I know nothing of her but what you have now rehearsed,

except that, a few days since, as I retired from the palace, I observed

her near the eastern gate in earnest conversation with Antiochus. Soon as

her eye caught me, although at a great distance, she hastily withdrew into

the palace, while Antiochus turned toward the neighboring street.'

Julia smiled. 'Ah,' said she, 'our cousin Antiochus, were he to lose all

hope of me, would hasten to throw himself at the feet of the beautiful

Sindarina. When at the palace, his eyes can hardly be drawn from her face.

I have been told he exalts her above her great mistress. Were Antiochus

king, I can hardly doubt that Sindarina were queen. His visit to the

palace must have been to her alone. Livia, have you received him since the

departure of Zenobia?'

Her sister had not seen him. I said no more. But never have I read aright

the human countenance, if in her there be not hidden designs of evil. I

knew not before this interview her history. This supplies a motive for a

treacherous turn, if by it her freedom or her fortune might be achieved. I

have mentioned my suspicions to Longinus, but he sees nothing in them.

* * * * *

The intelligence thus received from Antioch has effectually sobered the

giddy citizens of Palmyra. They are now of opinion that war really exists,

and that they are a party concerned. The merchants, who are the princes of

the place, perceiving their traffic to decline or cease, begin to interest

themselves in the affairs of the state. So long as wealth flowed in as

ever, and the traders from India and Persia saw no obstruction in the

state of things to a safe transaction of their various businesses and

transportation of their valuable commodities, the merchants left the state

to take care of itself, and whatever opinions they held, expressed them

only in their own circles, thinking but of accumulation by day, and of

ostentatious expenditure by night. I have often heard, that their general

voice, had it been raised, would have been hostile to the policy that has

prevailed. But it was not raised; and now, when too late, and these

mercenary and selfish beings are driven to some action by the loss of

their accustomed gains, a large and violent party is forming among them,

who loudly condemn the conduct of the Queen and her ministers, and

advocate immediate submission to whatever terms Aurelian may impose. This

party however, powerful though it maybe through wealth, is weak in

numbers. The people are opposed to them, and go enthusiastically with the

Queen, and do not scruple to exult in the distresses of the merchants.

Their present impotence is but a just retribution upon them for their

criminal apathy during the early stages of the difficulty. Then had they

taken a part as they ought to have done in the public deliberations, the

rupture which has ensued might, it is quite likely, have been prevented.

Their voice would have been a loud and strong, one, and would have been

heard. They deserve to lose their liberties, who will not spare time from

selfish pursuits to guard them. Where a government is popular, even to no

greater extent than this, it behooves every individual, if he values the

power delegated to him and would retain it, to use it, otherwise it is by

degrees and insensibly lost; and once absorbed into the hands of the few,

it is not easily, if at all, to be recovered.

Nothing can exceed the activity displayed on all hands in every

preparation which the emergency demands. New levies of men are

making, and a camp again forming to reinforce the Queen, at Emesa, or

in its neighborhood, if she should not be compelled to retire upon

Palmyra. In the mean time, we wait with beating hearts for the next

arrival of couriers.

* * * * *

After an anxious suspense of several days all my worst apprehensions are

realized. Messengers have arrived, announcing the defeat of Zenobia before

the walls of Emesa, and with them fugitives from the conquered army are

pouring in. Every hour now do we expect the approach of the Queen, with

the remnant of her forces. Our intelligence is in the hand of Zenobia

herself. She has written thus to her minister.

'Septimia Zenobia to Dionysius Longinus. I am again defeated. Our cavalry

were at first victorious, as before at Antioch. The Roman horse were

routed. But the infantry of Aurelian, in number greatly superior to ours,

falling upon our ranks when deprived of the support of the cavalry,

obtained an easy victory; while their horse, rallying and increased by

reinforcements from Antioch, drove us in turn at all points, penetrating

even to our camp, and completed the disaster of the day. I have now no

power with which to cope with Aurelian. It remains but to retreat upon

Palmyra, there placing our reliance upon the strength of our walls, and

upon our Armenian, Saracen, and Persian allies. I do not despair, although

the favor of the gods seems withdrawn. Farewell.'

The city is in the utmost consternation. All power seems paralysed. The

citizens stand together in knots at the corners of the streets, like

persons struck dumb, and without command of either their bodies or then

minds. The first feeling was, and it was freely expressed, 'To contend

further is hopeless. The army is destroyed; another cannot now be

recruited; and if it could, before it were effected, Aurelian would be at

the gates with his countless legions, and the city necessarily surrender.

We must now make the best terms we can, and receive passively conditions

which we can no longer oppose.'

But soon other sentiments took the place of these, and being urged by

those who entertained them, with zeal, they have prevailed.

'Why,' they have urged, 'should we yield before that becomes the only

alternative? At present we are secure within the walls of our city, which

may well defy all the power of a besieging army. Those most skilled in

such matters, and who have visited the places in the world deemed most

impregnable, assert that the defences of Palmyra are perfect, and

surpassed by none; and that any army, whether a Roman or any others must

perish before it would be possible either to force our gates or reduce us

by hunger. Besides, what could we expect by submitting to the conqueror,

but national extinction? Our city would be pillaged; our principal

citizens murdered; perhaps a general slaughter made of the inhabitants,

without regard to age or sex. The mercies of Rome have ever been cruel;

and Aurelian we know to be famed for the severity of his temper. No

commander of modern times has instituted so terrible a discipline in his

army, and Rome itself has felt the might of his iron hand; it is always on

his sword. What can strangers, foreigners, enemies, and rebels, as he

regards us, expect? And are the people of Palmyra ready to abandon their

Queen? to whom we owe all this great prosperity, this wide renown, this

extended empire? But for Zenobia we were now what we were so many ages, a

petty trading village, a community of money-makers, hucksters and

barterers, without arts, without science, without fame, destitute of all

that adorns and elevates a people. Zenobia has raised us to empire; it is

Zenobia who has made us the conquerors of Persia, and the rival of Rome.

Shame on those who will desert her! Shame on those who will distrust a

genius that has hitherto shone with greater lustre in proportion to the

difficulties that have opposed it! Who can doubt that by lending her all

our energies and means, she will yet triumph? Shame and death to the

enemies of the Queen and the State!'

Sentiments like these are now every where heard, and the courage and

enthusiasm of the people are rising again. Those who are for war and

resistance are always the popular party. There is an instinctive love of

liberty and power, and a horror at the thought of losing them, that come

to the aid of the weak, and often cause them to resist, under

circumstances absolutely desperate. Palmyra is not weak, but to one who

contemplates both parties, and compares their relative strength, it is

little short of madness to hope to hold out with ultimate success against

the power of Rome. But such is the determination of the great body of the

people. And the Queen, when she shall approach with her broken and

diminished, and defeated army, will meet the welcome of a conqueror. Never

before in the history of the world, was there so true-hearted a devotion

of a whole people to the glory, interests, and happiness of One--and never

was such devotion so deserved.

The Princess Julia possesses herself like one armed for such adversities,

not by nature, but by reflection and philosophy. She was designed for

scenes of calmness and peace: but she has made herself equal to times of

difficulty, tumult and danger. She shrinks not from the duties which her

station now imposes upon her; but seems like one who possesses resolution

enough to reign with the vigor and power of Zenobia. Her two brothers, who

have remained in the city, Herennianus and Timolaus, leave all affairs of

state to her and the council; they preferring the base pleasures of

sensuality, in which they wallow day and night in company with Antiochus

and his crew. If a deep depression is sometimes seen to rest upon her

spirit, it comes rather when she thinks of her mother, than of herself.

She experiences already, through her lively sympathies, the grief that

will rage in the soul of Zenobia, should fortune deprive her of her crown.

'Zenobia,' she has said to me, 'Zenobia cannot descend from a throne,

without suffering such as common souls cannot conceive. A goddess driven

from heaven and the company of the gods could not endure more. To possess

and to exercise power is to her heaven, to be despoiled of it, Tartarus

and death. She was born for a throne, though not on one; and how she

graces it, you and the world have seen. She will display fortitude under

adversity and defeat, I am sure, and to the common eye, the same soul,

vigorous with all its energies, will appear to preside over her. But the

prospect or expectation of a fall from her high place will rack with

torments such as no mortal can hope to assuage. To witness her grief,

without the power to relieve--I cannot bear to think of it!'

In Livia there is more of the mother. She is proud, imperious, and

ambitious, in a greater measure even than Zenobia. Young as she is, she

believes herself of a different nature from others; she born to rule,

others to serve. It is not the idea of her country and its renown that

fills and sways her, but of a throne and its attendant glories. So she

could reign a Queen, with a Queen's state and homage, it would matter

little to her whether it were in Persia or Palmyra. Yet with those who

are her equals is she free, and even sportive, light of heart, and

overflowing with excess of life. Her eye burns with the bright lustre of

a star, and her step is that of the mistress of a world. She is not

terrified at the prospect before her, for her confident and buoyant

spirit looks down all opposition, and predicts a safe egress from the

surrounding peril, and an ascent, through this very calamity itself, to

a position more illustrious still.

'Julia,' said she, on one occasion of late, while I sat a listener,

'supposing that the people of Palmyra should set aside our renowned

brothers, and again prefer a woman's sway, would not you renounce your

elder right in favor of me? I do not think you would care to be a Queen?'

'That is true,' replied Julia, 'I should not care to be a Queen; and

yet, I believe I should reign, that you might not. Though I covet not

the exercise of power, I believe I should use it more wisely than you

would, who do.'

'I am sure,' said Livia, 'I feel within me that very superiority to

others, which constitutes the royal character, and would fit me eminently

to reign. He cannot be a proper slave who has not the soul of a slave.

Neither can he reign well who has not the soul of a monarch. I am suited

to a throne, just as others are by the providence of the gods suited to

uphold the throne, and be the slaves of it.'

'Were you Queen, Livia, it would be for your own sake; to enjoy the

pleasures which as you imagine accompany that state, and exercise over

others the powers with which you were clothed, and receive the homage of

dependent subjects. Your own magnificence and luxurious state would be

your principal thought. Is that being suited to a throne?'

'But,' said Livia, 'I should not be guilty of intentional wrong toward

any. So long as my people obeyed my laws and supported my government,

there would be no causes of difficulty. But surely, if there were

resistance, and any either insulted or opposed my authority, it would be

a proper occasion for violent measures. For there must be some to govern

as well as others to obey. All cannot rule. Government is founded in

necessity. Kings and queens are of nature's making. It would be right

then to use utmost severity toward such as ceased to obey, as the slave

his master. How could the master obtain the service of the slave, if

there were not reposed in him power to punish? Shall the master of

millions have less?'

'Dear Livia, your principles are suited only to some Persian despotism.

You very soberly imagine, unless you jest, that governments exist for the

sake of those who govern--that kings and queens are the objects for which

governments are instituted,'

'Truly, it is very much so. Otherwise what would the king or queen of an

empire be but a poor official, maintained in a sort of state by the

people, and paid by them for the discharge of a certain set of duties

which must be performed by some one; but who possesses, in fact, no will

nor power of his own; rather the servant of the people than their master?'

'I think,' replied Julia, 'you have given a very just definition of the

imperial office. A king, queen, or emperor, is indeed the servant of the

people. He exists not for his own pleasure or glory, but for their good.

Else he is a tyrant, a despot--not a sovereign.'

'It is then,' said Livia, 'only a tyrant or a despot that I would consent

to be. Not in any bad meaning of the terms; for you know, Julia, that I

could not be cruel nor unjust. But unless I could reign, as one

independent of my people, and irresponsible to them not in name only, but

in reality above them; receiving the homage due to the queenly character

and office--would not reign at all. To sit upon a throne, a mere painted

puppet, shaken by the breath of every conceited or discontented citizen, a

butt for every shaft to fly at, a mere hireling, a slave in a queen's

robe, the mouthpiece for others to speak by and proclaim their laws, with

no will nor power of my own--no, no! It is not such that Zenobia is.'

'She is more than that indeed,' replied Julia; 'she is in some sense a

despot; her will is sovereign in the state; she is an absolute prince in

fact; but it is through the force of her own character and virtues, not by

the consent and expressed allowance of her subjects. Her genius, her

goodness, her justice, and her services, have united to confer upon her

this dangerous pre-eminence. But who else, with power such as hers, would

reign as she has reigned? An absolute will, guided by perfect wisdom and

goodness, constitutes I indeed believe the simplest and best form of human

government. It is a copy of that of the universe, under the providence of

the gods. But an absolute will, moved only or chiefly by the selfish love

of regal state and homage, or by a very defective wisdom and goodness, is

on the other hand the very worst form of human government. You would make

an unequalled queen, Livia, if to act the queen were all; if you were but

to sit and receive the worship of the slaves, your subjects. As you sit

now, Lean almost believe you Queen of the East! Juno's air was not more

imperial, nor the beauty of Venus more enslaving. Piso will not dissent

from what I began with, or now end with.'

'I think you have delivered a true doctrine,' I replied; 'but which few

who have once tasted of power will admit. Liberty would be in great danger

were Livia queen. Her subjects would be too willing to forget their

rights, through a voluntary homage to her queenly character and state.

Their chains would however be none the less chains, that they were

voluntarily assumed. That indeed is the most dangerous slavery which men

impose upon themselves, for it does not bear the name of slavery, but some

other; yet as it is real, the character of the slave is silently and

unconsciously formed, and then unconsciously transmitted.'

'I perceive,' said Livia, 'if what you philosophers urge be true, that I

am rather meant by nature for a Persian or a Roman throne than any other.

I would be absolute, though it were over but a village. A divided and

imperfect power I would not accept, though it were over the world. But

the gods grant it long ere any one be called in Palmyra to fill the place

of Zenobia!'

'Happy were it for mankind,' said Julia, 'could she live and reign

forever.'

Thus do all differences cease and run into harmony at the name of Zenobia.

* * * * *

Every hour do we look for the arrival of the army.

* * * * *

As I sit writing at my open window, overlooking the street and spacious

courts of the Temple of Justice, I am conscious of an unusual

disturbance--the people at a distance are running in one direction--the

clamor approaches--and now I hear the cries of the multitudes, 'The Queen!

the Queen!'