Late on the evening of the following day Fausta returned--her countenance
betraying what she had suffered in parting from those two, her bosom
friends. It was long ere she could possess herself so far as to give to
Gracchus and myself a narrative of what had occurred. To do it, asked but
few words.
'We have passed the time,' she said at length, 'as you might suppose those
would about to be separated--forever; yes, I feel that I have seen them
for the last time. It is like a conviction inspired by the gods. We did
naught till the hour of attiring for the flight arrived, but sit, look
upon each other, embrace, and weep. Not that Zenobia, always great, lost
the true command of herself, or omitted aught that should be done; but
that she was a woman, and a mother, and a friend, as well as a Queen and a
divinity. But I can say no more.'
'Yet one thing,' she suddenly resumed; 'alas! I had well nigh forgotten
it--it should have been said first. What think you? the Indian slave,
Sindarina, was to accompany the Queen, but at the hour of departure she
was missing. Her chamber was empty--the Arabian disguise, in which all
were to be arrayed, lying on her bed--she herself to be found neither
there nor any where within the palace. Another of the Queen's women was
chosen in her place. What make you of it?'
'Treason!--treachery!' cried Gracchus, and springing from his seat,
shouted for a horse.
'The gods forgive me,' cried the afflicted Gracchus, 'that this has been
forgotten! Why, why did I not lay to heart the hints which you dropped!'
'In very truth,' I replied, 'they were almost too slight to build even a
suspicion upon. The Queen heeded them not--and I myself had dismissed them
from my mind not less than yourself.'
'Not a moment is to be lost,' said Gracchus; 'the slave must be found, and
all whom we suspect seized.'
The night was passed in laborious search, both of the slave and Antiochus.
The whole city was abroad in a common cause. All the loose companions of
Antiochus and the young princes were taken and imprisoned; the suspected
leaders in the affair, after a scrutinizing search and public
proclamation, could not be found. The inference was clear, agonizing as
clear, that the Queen's flight had been betrayed.
Another day has revealed the whole. Isaac, who acted as guide through the
conduit, and was to serve in the same capacity till the party were secure
within a Persian fortress, not far from the banks of the Euphrates, has,
by a messenger, a servant of the palace, found means to convey a relation
of what befel after leaving Palmyra.
'Soon,' he says, 'as the shades of evening fell, the Queen, the Princess
Julia, Nichomachus, a slave, and Calpurnius, arrayed in the garb of Arabs
of the desert, together with a guard of ten soldiers, selected for their
bravery and strength, met by different routes at the mouth of the old
conduit. So noble a company had I never before the charge of. Thou
wouldst never have guessed the Queen through the veil of her outlandish
garment. She became it well. Not one was more a man than she. For the
Princess, a dull eye would have seen through her. Entering a little way
in utter darkness, I then bid them stand while I lighted torches. The
Queen was near me the while, and asked me the length of the passage, and
whether the walls were of that thickness as to prevent the voice from
being heard above.
'"Till we reach one particular spot, where the arch is partly fallen in,"
I said, "we may use our tongues as freely and as loud as we please; at
that place there will be need of special caution, as it is directly
beneath the Roman intrenchments. Of our approach thereto I will give
timely warning."
'I took occasion to say, that I was sorry the Queen of Palmyra should be
compelled to pass through so gloomy a cavern, but doubtless he who was
with Deborah and Judith would not forsake her who was so fast a friend to
his people, and who, if rumor might be believed, was even herself one of
them. This, Roman, you will doubtless think bold; but how could one who
was full refrain? I even added, "Fear not; he who watches over Judah and
Israel, will not fail to appear for one by whose arm their glories are to
be restored." The Queen at that smiled, and if a countenance may be read,
which I hold it can, as well as a book, it spoke favorable things for
Jerusalem.
'When our torches were kindled, we went on our way; a narrow way and dark.
We went in silence too, for I quickly discerned that minds and hearts were
too busy with themselves and their own sorrows and fears to choose to be
disturbed. Ah, Roman, how many times harder the lot of the high than the
low! When we drew nigh to the fissure in the arch, the torches were again
extinguished, and we proceeded at a snail's pace and with a hyena's foot
while we were passing within a few feet of the then, as I doubted not,
sleeping Romans. As we came beneath the broken and open part, I was
startled by the sound of voices. Soldiers were above conversing. As we
paused through apprehension, a few words were distinctly heard.
'"The times will not bear it," muttered one. "'Tis a vain attempt."
'"His severity is cruel," said another. "Gods! when before was it heard
of, that a soldier, and such a one, for what every one does whom chance
favors, should be torn limb from limb? The trees that wrenched Stilcho
asunder, ere they grow too stiff, may serve a turn on 'Hand-to-his-Sword'
himself. He will fatten on these starved citizens when he climbs over
their walls."
'"O no, by Jupiter!" said the first, "it is far likelier he will let them
off, as he did at Tyana, and we lose our sport. It is his own soldiers'
blood he loves."
'"He may yet learn," replied the other, "that soldiers wear weapons for
one purpose as well as another. Hark! what noise was that?"
'"It was but some rat at work within this old arch, Come, let us to bed."
'They moved away, and we, breathing again, passed along, and soon
re-lighted our torches.
'After walking a weary distance from this point, and encountering many
obstacles, we at length reached the long-desired termination. The
dromedaries were in readiness, and mounting them without delay, we
ascended the steep sides of the ravine, and then at a rapid pace sought
the open plains. When they were attained, I considered that we were out of
all danger from the Romans, and had only to apprehend the ordinary dangers
of this route during a time of war, when freebooters of all the
neighboring tribes are apt to abound. "Here," I said to the Queen, "we
will put our animals to their utmost speed, as the way is plain and
smooth--having regard only," I added, "to your and the Princess's
strength."--"On, on, in the name of the gods!" said they both; "we can
follow as fast as you shall lead." And on we flew with the speed of the
wind. The Queen's animals were like spirits of the air, with such amazing
fleetness and sureness of foot did they shoot over the surface of the
earth. The way was wholly our own. We met none; we saw none. Thrice we
paused to relieve those not accustomed to such speed, or to the peculiar
motion of this animal. But at each resting place, the Queen with
impatience hastened us away, saying, that "rest could be better had at
once when we had crossed the river; and once upon the other bank, and we
were safe."
'The first flush of morning was upon the sky as we came within sight of
the valley of the Euphrates. The river was itself seen faintly gleaming as
we wound down the side of a gentle hill. The country here was broken, as
it had been for many of the last miles we had rode--divided by low ridges,
deep ravines, and stretches of wood and bush. So that to those approaching
the banks in the same general direction, many distinct paths offered
themselves. It was here, O Piso, just as we reached the foot of this
little hill, riding more slowly by reason of the winding road, that my
quick ear caught at a distance the sounds of other hoofs upon the ground
beside our own. My heart sank within me--a sudden faintness spread over my
limbs. But at the instant I gave the alarm to our troop, and at greatest
risk of life and limb we put our beasts to their extreme speed, and dashed
toward the river. I still, as we rode, turning my ear in the direction of
the sound, heard with distinctness the clatter of horses' hoofs. Our
beasts were dromedaries; in that lay my hope. Two boats awaited us among
the rushes on the river's bank, in the keeping of those who had been sent
forward for that purpose; and off against them, upon the other side of the
stream, lay a small Persian village and fortress. Once off in the boats
but ever so short a distance, and we were safe. On we flew, and on I was
each moment conscious came pursuers, whoever they might be. We reached
the river's edge.--"Quick! for your lives," I cried. "The Queen, the
Princess, and four men in this boat; the packages in the other." In a
moment and less than that, we were in our boat, a troop of horse at the
same instant sweeping like a blast of the desert down the bank of the
river. We shot into the stream; but ere the other could gain the water,
the Romans, as we now too plainly saw them to be, were upon them. A brief
but desperate strife ensued. The Romans were five for one of the others,
and quickly putting them to the sword, sprang into their boat.
'"Pull! pull!" cried the Queen, the first words she had uttered, "for your
lives and Palmyra!" They gained upon us. We had six oars, they eight. But
the strength of three seemed to nerve the arm of Calpurnius.
'"Immortal gods!" cried he, in inexpressible agony, "they near us!" and
straining with redoubled energy his oar snapped, and the boat whirled from
her course.
'"All is lost!" ejaculated Zenobia.
'A Roman voice was now heard, "Yield you, and your lives are safe."
'"Never," cried Calpurnius, and as the Roman boat struck against ours, he
raised his broken oar, and aiming at him who had spoken, lost his balance
and plunged headlong into the stream,
'"Save him--save him!" cried the Queen, but they heeded her not. "It is
vain to contend," she cried out again; "we yield, but save the life of him
who has fallen."
'The light was yet not sufficient to see but to a little distance.
Nothing was visible upon the smooth surface of the water, nor any
sound heard.
'"His own rash fury has destroyed him," said the Roman, who we now could
discern bore the rank of Centurion.
'"We seek," said he, turning toward where the Queen sat, "we seek Zenobia,
Queen of Palmyra."
'"I am Zenobia," said the Queen.
'"The gods be praised therefor!" rejoined the Centurion. "Our commands are
to bear you to the tent of Aurelian."
'"Do with me as you list," replied the Queen; "I am in your power."
'"To the shore," exclaimed the Roman; and our boat, fastened to the
other, was soon at the place whence but a moment before it had parted.
'"Who are these?" asked the Centurion, as we reached the shore, pointing
to the Princess, and the attendant slave and secretary. "Our orders extend
only to the person of the Queen."
'"Divide them not," I said, willing to spare the Queen the bandying of
words with a Roman soldier, "they are of the Queen's family. They are a
part of herself. If thou takest one take all to thy Emperor."
'"So be it; and now to your horses, and once more over the plain. It shall
go hard, but that what we carry with us will make our fortune with
Aurelian."
'Saying this, the whole troop formed, placing Zenobia and Julia in the
midst, and winding up the banks of the river disappeared.
'Such, O unhappy Piso, was this disastrous night. Surely all was done on
our part to secure a successful issue. I can discern no defect nor fault.
We could not have been more fleet. Swifter beasts never trod the sands of
Arabia. What then? Hath there not been, think you, foul play? Whence got
the Romans knowledge, not only of our flight, but of the very spot for
which we aimed? I doubt not there has been treachery--and that too of the
very color of hell. Look to it, and let not the guilty go free.
'One word touching thy brother. Despond not. I cannot think that he is
lost. We were but a furlong from the shore. My belief is, that seeing the
capture of the Queen was certain, and that to him, if taken with her in
arms against his country, death was inevitable, he, when he fell, rose
again at a safe distance, and will yet be found.
'These things I send in haste by a returning servant of the palace, I
remaining both to secure the dromedaries now wandering at will along the
banks of the river, and to search diligently for Calpurnius, whom I trust
to bear back with me to Palmyra.'
Here, my Curtius, was food for meditation and grief--the renowned Queen of
this brilliant capital and kingdom, so late filling a throne that drew the
admiration of the world, sitting there in a proud magnificence that cast
into shade Persia itself, is in one short night shorn of all her power; a
captive at the mercy of a cruel foe; Julia also a captive; my brother, so
late redeemed--as I cannot but suppose--dead. I need not nor can I tell
you with what emotions I read the fatal letter. The same messenger who
delivered it to me had spread through the city the news of the Queen's
captivity. What related to Calpurnius I determined to conceal from Fausta,
since it was at least possible that by communicating it I might cause a
useless suffering.
Fausta, upon learning the horrors of the night, which she first did from
the outcries and lamentations in the streets, seemed more like one dead
than alive. She could not weep; the evil was too great for tears. And
there being no other way in which to give vent to the grief that wrung her
soul in every feeling and affection, I trembled lest reason should be
hurled from its seat. She wandered from room to room, her face of the hue
of death--but indicating life enough in its intense expression of inward
pain--and speechless, save that at intervals in a low tone, 'Zenobia!
Palmyra!' fell from her scarcely moving lips. To Gracchus and myself
essaying to divert her from thoughts that seemed to prey upon her very
life, she said, 'Leave me to wrestle alone with my grief; it is the way to
strength. I do not doubt that I shall find it.'
'She is right,' said Gracchus; 'to overcome she must fight her own battle.
Our aid but ministers to her weakness.'
It was not long before she rejoined us, tears having brought relief to her
over-burdened heart.
Her first inquiry now was for Calpurnius. 'I have feared to ask, for if he
too is captive, I know that he is lost. Now I can hear and bear all. How
is it, Lucius?'
I answered, that 'he was not a captive, so much was known; but where he
now was, or what had befallen him, was not known. I had reason to
believe that he would find his way back through the guidance of Isaac to
the city.'
'Alas! I read in your words his fate. But I will not urge you farther. I
will live upon all the hope I can keep alive. Yet it is not the death of
Calpurnius--nor yet of Zenobia--nor Julia--that wrings the soul and saps
its life, like this bitter, bitter disappointment, this base treason of
Antiochus. To be so near the summit of our best hopes, only to be cast
down into this deep abyss--that is the sting in our calamity that shoots
deepest, and for which there is no cure. Is there no other way, father, in
which we can explain the capture of the Queen? Accident--could it not be
accident that threw the troop of Aurelian in their way?'
'I fear not,' said Gracchus. 'When we add what rumor has heretofore
reported of the aims of Antiochus, but which we have all too much
contemned him to believe him capable of, to what has now occurred, I think
we cannot doubt that he is the author of the evil, seducing into his plot
the Queen's slave, through whom he received intelligence of every plan and
movement.'
'Ah, cruel treachery! How can one join together the sweet innocent face
of Sindarina and such deep hypocrisy! Antiochus surely must have
perverted her by magic arts. Of that I am sure. But what fruit can
Antiochus hope his treason shall bear for him? Can he think that Palmyra
will endure his rule?'
'That,' replied Gracchus, 'must be his hope. The party of the
discontented we well know to be large; upon them he thinks he may rely.
Then his treason recommending him to Aurelian, he builds upon his power
to establish him on the throne, and sustain him there till his own
strength shall have grown, so that he can stand alone. That the city will
surrender upon the news of the Queen's captivity, he doubtless calculates
upon as certain.'
'May his every hope,' cried Fausta, 'be blasted, and a little of the
misery he has poured without stint into our hearts wring his own, and when
he cries for mercy, may he find none!'
'One hope,' I said here, 'if I know aught of the nature of Aurelian, and
upon which he must chiefly found his project, will sink under him to his
shame and ruin.'
'What mean you?' said Fausta eagerly.
'His belief that Aurelian will reward baseness though to an enemy. He
never did it yet, and he cannot do it. Were there within the thick skull
of Antiochus the brains of a foolish ostrich, he would have read in the
fate of Heraclammon, the rich traitor of Tyana, his own. If I err not, he
has indiscreetly enough thrust himself into a lion's den. If Aurelian is
fierce, his is the grand and terrific ferocity of the king of beasts.'
'May it be so!' said Fausta. 'There were no providence in the gods did
such villany escape punishment, still less, did it grow great. But if
Aurelian is such as you describe him, O then is there not reason in the
belief that he will do gently by her? Were it compatible with greatness or
generosity--and these, you say, belong to the Emperor--to take revenge
upon an enemy, thrown by such means into his power? and such an enemy? and
that too a woman? Julia too! O immortal gods, how bitter past drinking is
this cup!'
'Yet must you, must we, not lean too confidently upon the dispositions of
Aurelian. He is subject, though supreme, to the state, nay, and in some
sense to the army; and what he might gladly do of his own free and
generous nature, policy and the contrary wishes and sometimes requisitions
of his troops, or of the people, compel him to forbear. The usage of Rome
toward captive princes has been, and is, cruel. Yet the Emperor does much
to modify it, giving it, according to his own temper, a more or less
savage character. And Aurelian has displayed great independence in his
acts, both of people and soldiers. There is much ground for hope--but it
must not pass into confident expectation.'
'You, Lucius, in former days have known Aurelian well, before fortune
raised him to this high eminence. You say you were his friend. Could
you not--'
'No, I fear with scarce any hope of doing good. My residence here during
all these troubles will, I doubt not, raise suspicions in the mind of
Aurelian which it will not be easy to allay. But whenever I shall have it
in my power to present myself before him, I shall not fail to press upon
him arguments which, if he shall act freely, cannot I think but weigh
with him.'
'Ought not the city now,' said Fausta, addressing Gracchus, 'to surrender,
and, if it can do no better, throw itself upon the mercy of Aurelian? I
see not now what can be gained by longer resistance, and would not a still
protracted refusal to capitulate, and when it must be without the faintest
expectation of ultimate success, tend merely and with certainty to
exasperate Aurelian, and perhaps embitter him toward the Queen?'
'I can scarcely doubt that it would,' replied Gracchus. 'The city ought
to surrender. Soon as the first flood of grief has spent itself, must we
hasten to accomplish it if possible. Longinus, to whom will now be
entrusted the chief power, will advocate it I am sure--so will Otho,
Seleucus, Gabrayas; but the army will, I fear, be opposed to it, and will,
more through a certain pride of their order than from any principle,
incline to hold out.--It is time I sought Longinus.'
He departed in search of the Greek. I went forth into the streets to learn
the opinions and observe the behavior of the people.
* * * * *
The shades of night are around me--the palace is still--the city sleeps.
I resume my pen to add a few words to this epistle, already long, but
they are words that convey so much that I cannot but add them for my own
pleasure not less than yours. They are in brief these,--Calpurnius is
alive and once again returned to us. The conjecture of Isaac was a
description of the truth. My brother, knowing well that if apprehended
his death were certain, had in the outset resolved, if attacked, rather
to provoke his death, and insure it in the violence of a conflict, than
be reserved for the axe of the Roman executioner. But in the short moment
in which he fell headlong into the river, it flashed across his
mind--'The darkness favors my escape--I can reach the shore;' so swimming
a short distance below the surface, falling down with the stream and
softly rising, concealed himself among the reeds upon the margin of the
stream. Finding the field in a short time wholly in possession of Isaac,
he revealed himself and joined him, returning to the city as soon as the
darkness of the night permitted. Here is a little gleam of light breaking
through Fausta's almost solid gloom. A smile has once more played over
her features.
In the evening after Calpurnius's return, she tried her harp, but the
sounds it gave out only seemed to increase her sorrow, and she threw
it from her.
'Music,' said Gracchus, 'is in its nature melancholy, and how, my child,
can you think to forget or stifle grief by waking the strings of your
harp, whose tones, of all other instruments, are the most melancholy? And
yet sometimes sadness seeks sadness, and finds in it its best relief. But
now, Fausta? rather let sleep be your minister and nurse.'
So we parted. Farewell.
Letter XV.
It were a vain endeavor, my Curtius, to attempt to describe the fever of
indignation, and rage, and grief, that burned in the bosoms of this
unhappy people, as soon as it was known that their Queen was a captive in
the hands of the Romans. Those imprisoned upon suspicion of having been
concerned in her betrayal would have been torn from their confinement, and
sacrificed to the wrath of the citizens, in the first hours of their
excitement, but for the formidable guard by which the prisons were
defended. The whole population seemed to be in the streets and public
places, giving and receiving with eagerness such intelligence as could be
obtained. Their affliction is such as it would be had each one lost a
parent or a friend. The men rave, or sit, or wander about listless and
sad; the women weep; children catch the infection, and lament as for the
greatest misfortune that could have overtaken them. The soldiers, at first
dumb with amazement at so unlooked-for and unaccountable a catastrophe,
afterward, upon learning that it fell out through the treason of
Antiochus, bound themselves by oaths never to acknowledge or submit to his
authority, though Aurelian himself should impose him upon them, nay, to
sacrifice him to the violated honor of the empire, if ever he should fall
into their power.
Yet all are not such. The numbers are not contemptible of those who,
openly or secretly, favor the cause and approve the act of Antiochus. He
has not committed so great a crime without some prospect of advantage from
it, nor without the assurance that a large party of the citizens, though
not the largest, is with him, and will adhere to his fortunes. These are
they, who think, and justly think, that the Queen has sacrificed the
country to her insane ambition and pride. They cleave to Antiochus, not
from personal regard toward him, but because he seems more available for
their present purposes than any other, principally through his fool-hardy
ambition; and, on the other hand, they abandon the Queen, not for want of
personal affection, equal perhaps to what exists in any others, but
because they conceive that the power of Rome is too mighty to contend
with, and that their best interests rather than any extravagant notions of
national honor, ought to prompt their measures.
The city will now give itself up, it is probable, upon the first summons
of Aurelian. The council and the senate have determined that to hold out
longer than a few days more is impossible. The provisions of the public
granaries are exhausted, and the people are already beginning to be
pinched with hunger. The rich, and all who have been enabled to subsist
upon their own stores, are now engaged in distributing what remains among
the poorer sort, who are now thrown upon their compassion. May it not be,
that I am to be a witness of a people dying of hunger! Gracchus and Fausta
are busily employed in relieving the wants of the suffering.
We have waited impatiently to hear the fate of the Queen. Many reports
have prevailed, founded upon what has been observed from the walls. At one
time, it has been said that she had perished under the hands of the
executioner--at another, that the whole Roman camp had been seen to be
thrown into wild tumult, and that she had doubtless fallen a sacrifice to
the ungovernable fury of the licentious soldiery, I cannot think either
report probable. Aurelian, if he revenged himself by her death, would
reserve her for execution on the day of his triumph. But he would never
tarnish his glory by such an act. And for the soldiers--I am sure of
nothing more than that they are under too rigid a discipline, and hold
Aurelian in too great terror, to dare to commit a violence like that which
has been imputed to them.
At length--for hours are months in such suspense--we are relieved. Letters
have come from Nichomachus to both Longinus and Livia,
First, their sum is, the Queen lives!