On the eastern side of the area of the Temple of the Sun, there is a curious doorway of one solid block of stone, which commands a fine view of the desert. “As we looked out of this narrow gateway,” says Mr. Addison, “we fancied, that Zenobia herself might have often stood at the same spot, anxiously surveying the operations of Aurelian and his blockading army. From hence the eye wanders over the level waste, across which the unfortunate queen fled on her swift dromedary to the Euphrates; and here, the morning after her departure, doubtless congregated her anxious friends, to see if she was pursued in her flight; and from hence she was probably first descried, being brought back a captive and a prisoner in the hands of the Roman horsemen.”
On the east side of the Piazza, stands a great number of marble pillars: some perfect, but the greater part mutilated. In one place eleven are ranged together in a square; the space, which they inclose, is paved with broad flat stones; but there are no remains of a roof.
At a little distance are the remains of a small temple, which is also without a roof; and the walls are much defaced; but from the door is enjoyed the magnificent coup-d’œil of all the ruins, and of the vast desert beyond. Before the entry, which looks to the south, is a piazza, supported by six pillars, two on each side of the door, and one at each end. The pedestals of those in front have been filled with inscriptions in the Greek and Palmyrene languages, which are become totally illegible.
Among these ruins there are many Sepulchres. They are ranged on each side of a hollow way, towards the north part of the city, and extend more than a mile. They are all square towers, four or five stories high. But though they are alike in form, they differ greatly in magnificence. The outside is of common stone; but the floors and partitions of each story are marble. There is a walk across the whole building, just in the middle; and the space on each hand is subdivided into six partitions by thick walls. The space between the partitions is wide enough to receive the largest corpse; and in these niches there are six or seven piled one upon another.
“As great a curiosity as any,” says Mr. Halifax, “were these sepulchres, being square towers four or five stories high, and standing on both sides of a hollow way, towards the north part of the city. They stretched out in length the space of a mile, and perhaps formerly might extend a great way further. At our first view of them, some thought them the steeples of ruined churches, and were in hopes we should have found some steps of churches here; others took them to have been bastions, and part of the old fortifications, though there is not so much as any foundation of a wall to be seen. But when we came, a day or two after, more curiously to inquire into them, we quickly found their use. They were all of the same form, but of different splendour and greatness, according to the circumstances of their founders. The first we viewed was entirely marble, but is now wholly in ruins; and we found nothing but a heap of stones, amongst which we found two statues; one of a man; another of a woman, cut in sitting, or rather leaning, posture, and the heads and part of the arms being broken off; but their bodies remaining pretty entire; so that we had the advantage of seeing their habits, which appeared very noble; but more approaching the European fashion, than what is now in use in the East, which inclined me to think they might be Roman. Upon broken pieces of stone, tumbled here and there, we found some broken inscriptions, but, not affording any perfect sense, they are not worth the transcribing.”
These are the most interesting of all the ruins. As you wind up a narrow valley between the mountain range, you have them on your right and left, topping the hills, or descending to the border of the valley: some presenting heaps of rubbish, and some half fallen, expose their shattered chambers, and one or two still exist in almost an entire state of preservation. They are seen from a great distance, and have a striking effect in this desert solitude.
The ruins of Palmyra and Balbec are very different. “No comparison can be instituted between them,” says Mr. Addison. “The ruins of Balbec consist merely of two magnificent temples, inclosed in a sort of citadel; while here, over an immense area, we wander through the ruins of long porticoes leading up to ruined temples and unknown buildings. Now we see a circular colonnade sweeping round with its ruined gateway, at either end; now we come to the prostrate walls, or ruined chambers of a temple or palace; anon we explore the recesses of a bath, or the ruins of an aqueduct; then we mount the solitary staircase, and wander through the silent chambers of the tombs, ornamented with busts, inscriptions, and niches for the coffins, stored with mouldering bones; and from the summits of funereal towers, five stories in height, we look down upon this mysterious assemblage of past magnificence; and beyond them, upon the vast level surface of the desert, silent and solitary; stretching away like the vast ocean, till it is lost in the distance, far as the eye can reach. The dwelling of man is not visible. The vastness and immensity of space strikes us with awe, and the mouldering monuments of human pride, that extend around, teach us a sad lesson of the instability of all human greatness.”
Though antiquity has left nothing either in Greece or Italy, in any way to be compared with the magnificence of the ruins of Palmyra, Mr. Wood observes, that there is a greater sameness in the architecture of Palmyra than at Rome, Athens, and other great cities, whose ruins evidently point out different ages of decay. But, except four half-columns in the Temple of the Sun, and two in one of the mausoleums, the whole architecture is Corinthian, richly ornamented with some very striking beauties and some as visible faults.
Through the valley of the tombs may be traced remnants of a ruined aqueduct, which formerly conducted water to the town from, at present, an unknown source; it consists of a vaulted passage running underground, covered with a fine hard stucco. In regard to the present supply, there are two rivers, the waters of which, when judiciously distributed, must have conduced greatly to the subsistence and comfort of the ancient inhabitants; but these are now allowed to lose themselves in the sand.
Mr. Wood says that all the inscriptions he saw were in Greek or Palmyrene, except one, which was in Latin. Many attempts have been made to explain the Palmyrene inscriptions. They were generally supposed to be Syriac. Gruter, having seen an inscription at Rome, gave it as his opinion that the characters were Arabic. Scaliger, speaking of the same inscription, gave the subject up in despair. Some have thought they were Greek, translated from the Palmyrene. Upon this hint M. Barthelemy examined the inscriptions copied into Mr. Wood’s work, and came to the conclusion, that Syriac was the living language of the inhabitants of Palmyra, at the time those monuments were erected; and that the greatest part, if not all the characters, are the same as those made use of in writing Hebrew at this day, although they have a different appearance.
We shall now give a few specimens:—“This splendid and durable monument, Jamblichus, the son of Mocimus, the son of Acaleises, the son of Malichus, erected for himself, his children, and his posterity, in the month of April, year 314.”
There is another to the same purport, erected in the same month, one hundred years after:—“This monument, Elabælus Manæus Cocchæus Malachus, the son of Waballathus, the son of Manæus, the son of Elabælus, built for himself and family in the month of April, year 414.”
Another inscription implies that “Septimius Odenathus, the most excellent senator, had erected this monument for himself and his posterity, to preserve their name for ever.”
Another contains an epitaph erected by Soræchus, to his wife Martha, in the reign of Marcus Antoninus, A. D. 178.
A third is of the same nature; appropriated by Malchus, to himself and his children, though built by his ancestors.
Besides sepulchral monuments there are others, erected by order of the senate and people of the commonwealth of Tadmor, to the honour of those citizens who had deserved well of the republic. Among these is one in honour of Alilamenes; another in honour of Julius Aurelius Zenobius; another in honour of Jarisbolus; and others in honour of Septimius Orodes. The last of these was a great benefactor to the public and private institutions of Palmyra. He had been an officer in his younger days, and had greatly distinguished himself under his prince, Odenathus, against the Parthians; during the year in which this monument was erected, he exercised the office of symposiarch, in the festival dedicated to their Patron God, Jupiter Belus. That in honour of Alilamenes runs thus:—“The senate and the people have placed this in honour of Alilamenes, the son of Panas, the son of Mocimus, the son of Æranes, devoted lovers of their country, and in every respect deserving well of their country, and of the immortal Gods, in the year 450, and the 30th day of the month of April.”
There are, also, monuments erected by private persons to the memory of their friends. The finest of these contains the grateful remembrance which the Palmyrene merchants, trading to Vologesias71, retained of the great services which Julius Zobeidas did them in that expedition.
Another inscription commemorates the virtues of a person named Malenthon, secretary to the republic of Palmyra, when “the God Hadrian” arrived in the city (A. D. 122). He is remembered for having contributed to the adornment of the temple of Belus, and for having given a largess to the public baths, of oil for the use, not only of the citizens, but of strangers.
The monument erected to Jamblichus seems to be the oldest, and the work of Domitian the latest; taking in about three hundred years between them. The other rich and extensive buildings were, Mr. Wood supposes, erected before the last of these dates, and probably after the first; perhaps about the time Elabælus built his monument.
It is rather remarkable, that there is no monument in memory of, nor any inscription in honour of Zenobia; for which Dr. Halley accounts on the supposition, that the Romans were so much irritated and ashamed, that they destroyed and defaced everything that might be erected in honour of her.
The decay of Palmyra has been accounted for from its peculiar situation. A country without land, if the expression may be allowed, could only exist by commerce: their industry had no other channel to operate in; and when loss of their liberty was followed by that of trade, they were reduced to live idly on as much of their capital as had been spared by Aurelian. When that was spent, necessity compelled them to desert the town.
Time has partially preserved the peristyles, the intercolumniations, and entablatures; the elegance of the designs of which equal throughout the richness of the materials. These being, in many respects, the greatest and most entire, is attributed to there having been, for so long a time, few inhabitants to deface them, to a dry climate, and their distance from any city which might apply the materials to other uses. These ruins present a sad contrast with the hovels of the wild Arabs, now the only inhabitants of a city which, in former times, emulated Rome. “Of all the contrasts of past magnificence with present meanness,” says Mr. Addison, “of the wealth and genius of by-gone times with the poverty and ignorance of the present day, no more striking instance, perhaps, can be found than is presented in the present poor Arab village of Tadmor. You there see a few poverty-stricken inhabitants living in square hovels of mud mixed with chopped straw, roofed with earth, leaves, and dry sticks, congregated round the magnificent Temple of the Sun of yore; despoiled of its ornaments by one of the haughtiest and most powerful of the Roman emperors, who came with his victorious troops from the distant provinces of Gaul and of Britain, to rend asunder the dominion of which this spot, in the midst of desert solitudes, had rendered itself the head.” Mr. Addison then goes on to state that the “village of Tadmor consists, altogether, of about a dozen or fifteen families, and there can be hardly more than twenty able-bodied males in the whole place. This little community possesses a few herds of goats and dromedaries, which, together with the poultry, form the chief wealth of the villagers. These poor people are not, however, sufficiently advanced in the desert to be without the reach of the Syrian government; they all pay a capitation tax to Ibrahim Pasha. The portion of cultivated land on this spot is very small; there are merely a few scanty gardens, which produce roots, vegetables, and a miserable supply of corn. There are one or two palm-trees along the banks of the stream, and a few shrubs of the thorny acacia.”
These ruins were, some years ago, visited by a lady who has made a great noise in Syria—Lady Hester Stanhope. During her residence there she gave a kind of fête to the Bedouins. “The great sheikh,” says Mr. Carne, in his letters from the East, “and some of his officers constantly reside at the ruins. Their habitations are fixed near the great temple; they are all well-disposed and civil in their manners, and their young women are remarkable above all the other tribes for their beauty. It was a lovely day, and the youth of both sexes, dressed in their gayest habiliments, were seated in rows on the fragments of the pillars, friezes, and other ruins with which the ground was covered. Her ladyship, in her Eastern dress, walked among them, addressed them with the utmost affability, and ordered a dollar to be given to each. As she stood with all that Arab array amidst the columns of the great Temple of the Sun, the sight was picturesque and imposing, and the Bedouins hailed her with the utmost enthusiasm ‘queen of Palmyra,’ ‘queen of the desert;’ and, in their enthusiasm, would have proceeded to confer more decided marks of sovereignty; but they were declined.”
This fête was afterwards described to Mr. Buckingham by an Arab, who had been present, in the following hyperbolical style:—“As soon as it was known in the desert that the princess intended to journey to Tadmor, all the tribes were in motion; war was changed to universal peace, and every sheik, or chief, was eager to have the honour of leading the escort. Councils and assemblies were held at Horis and at Hamak, at Sham, and at Thaleb, Damascus, and Aleppo; messengers were sent in every direction, and nothing was neglected that might serve to make the way full of pleasure. When money was talked of, every one rejected it with indignation, and exclaimed, ‘Shall we not serve the princess for honour?’ Every thing being settled, the party set out, preceded by horsemen in front, dromedaries of observation on the right and the left, and camels laden with provisions in the rear. As they passed along, the parched sands of the desert became verdant plains; the burning wells became crystal streams; rich carpets of grass welcomed them at every place where they stopped for repose, and the trees under which they pitched their tents, expanded to twice their size to cover them with shade. When they reached the broken city (the ruins), the princess was taken to the greatest of all the palaces (the Temple of the Sun), and there gold and jewels were bound round her temples, and all the people did homage to her as a queen, by bowing their heads to the dust. On that day Tadmor was richer than Damascus, and more peopled than Constantinople; and if the princess had only remained, it would soon have become the greatest of all the cities of the earth: for men were pouring into it from all quarters; horsemen and chiefs, merchants and munugemein (astrologers and learned men who consult the stars); the fame of her beauty and benevolence having reached to Bagdad and Isfahan, to Bokhara and Samarcand; the greatest men of the East being desirous of beholding it for themselves.” The Arab, who firmly believed all this, narrated the return from Palmyra in the same romantic strains; and ended by repeating his regret at the misfortune of not having been one of the happy multitude, assembled on that occasion; he having been then on some business with another tribe to the south of the Dead Sea72.
Lady Hester is now dead. The following account is taken from a paper published originally at Smyrna: “We announced in our last number the death of Lady Hester Stanhope. Our readers will no doubt be glad to have a brief sketch of the principal circumstances of that extraordinary woman’s life. It was at Djouni, in Syria, that Lady Hester died, after a long illness, at the age of sixty-four. That reader must be indifferent, who reverts not with interest to his recollections of a woman, who has expired on the borders of the desert, amidst the Druses and Turkomans, over whom that noble daughter of the Infidels once exercised so strange and so marvellous a sway. The destiny of Lady Stanhope presents one of those features of which not another instance could, perhaps, be found in the annals of the East. Only imagine forty thousand Arabs suddenly assembled upon the ruins of Palmyra, and these wandering, savage, and indomitable tribes surrounding, in silent astonishment and admiration, a foreign woman, and proclaiming her Sovereign of the Desert and Queen of Palmyra! Convey yourself in thought to the scene of this incredible triumph, and you will then conceive what woman that must have been, who imposed silence on Mussulman fanaticism, and created for herself, as it were, by magic, a sovereignty in the domains of Mohammed. ‘Lady Hester Stanhope,’ says M. de Lamartine, in his admirable work, ‘was a niece of Mr. Pitt. On the death of her uncle, she left England, and visited various parts of Europe. Young, handsome, and rich, she was everywhere received with the attention and interest due to her rank, fortune, mind, and beauty; but she constantly refused to unite her fate to that of her worthiest admirers; and, after spending some years in the principal capitals of Europe, embarked with a numerous suite for Constantinople. The real cause of this expatriation has never been known. Some have ascribed it to the death of a young English officer, who was killed at that period in Spain, and whom an eternal regret rendered for ever present in Lady Hester’s heart: others have imputed her voluntary banishment to a mere love of adventure in a young person of an enterprising and courageous character. However this might be, she departed, spent some years at Constantinople, and then sailed for Syria in an English vessel, which carried also the larger part of her fortune, as well as jewellery, trinkets, and presents of all sorts, of very considerable value.’ The vessel encountered a storm in the gulf of Macri, on the road to Caramania; the ship was wrecked, Lady Hester Stanhope’s property was all lost, and it was as much as she could do to save her own life. Nothing, however, could shake her resolution. She returned to England, gathered the remainder of her fortune, sailed again for Syria, and landed at Latakia, the ancient Laodicea. She had at first thought of fixing her abode at Broussa, at the foot of the Olympus; but Broussa is a commercial city, situate on the avenues to the Ottoman capital, and reckoning not less than sixty thousand inhabitants; and Lady Hester sought the independence and solitude of the desert. She therefore selected the wilderness of Mount Lebanon, whose extreme ramifications lose themselves in the sands. Ruined Palmyra—Zenobia’s ancient capital—suited her fancy. The noble exile took up her residence at Djouni, prepared for every vicissitude. ‘Europe,’ said she, ‘is a monotonous residence; its nations are unworthy of freedom, and endless revolution are their only prospects.’ She applied herself to the study of the Arabic language, and strove to obtain a thorough acquaintance with the character and manners of the Syrian people. One day, dressed in the costume of the Osmanlis, she set out for Jerusalem, Damascus, Aleppo, and the desert; she advanced amidst a caravan loaded with wealth, tents, and presents for the Scheiks, and was soon surrounded by all the tribes, who knelt to her, and submitted to her supremacy. It was not solely by her magnificence, that Lady Hester had excited the admiration of the Arabs: her courage had been proved on more than one occasion; and she had always faced peril with a boldness and energy which the tribes well remembered. Lady Hester Stanhope knew also how to flatter the Mahomedan prejudices. She held no intercourse with Christians and Jews; she spent whole days in the grotto of a santon, who explained the Koran to her; and never appeared in public without that mien of majestic and grave inspiration, which was always unto oriental nations the characteristic of prophets. With her, however, this conduct was not so much the result of design, as of a decided proneness to every species of excitement and originality. Lady Hester Stanhope’s first abode was but a monastery. It was soon transformed into an oriental palace, with pavilions, orange-gardens and myrtles, over which spread the foliage of the cedar, such as it grows in the mountains of Lebanon. The traveller, to whom Lady Hester opened this sanctuary, would behold her clad in oriental garments. Her head was covered with a turban made of red and white cashmere. She wore a long tunic, with open loose sleeves; large Turkish trousers, the folds of which hung over yellow morocco boots, embroidered with silk. Her shoulders were covered with a sort of burnous, and a yataghan hung to her waist. Lady Hester Stanhope had a serious and imposing countenance; her noble and mild features had a majestic expression, which her high stature and the dignity of her movements enhanced. The day came when all this préstige, so expensively kept up, suddenly vanished. Lady Hester’s fortune rapidly declined; her income yearly decreased; in short, the substantial resources, which had, at one time, sustained the magic of her extraordinary domination, were daily forsaking her. The Queen of Palmyra then fell back into the rank of mere mortals, and she who had signed absolute firmans, enabling the traveller to visit in security the regions of Palmyra—she, whose authority the Sublime Porte had tacitly acknowledged—soon saw her people disown her omnipotency. She was left the title of queen, but it was but an empty name, a mere recollection; and again the monastery’s silence ruled over the solitude of Djouni. A queen, stripped of her glory of a day, Lady Hester Stanhope has expired, the sport of fate, at the moment the East is convulsed. She has expired in obscurity and loneliness, without even mingling her name with the great events of which it is now the theatre.”
All this, if no exaggeration had been employed, might have served to the excitation of a smile: but the matter did not rest there. Lady Hester, or the Princess, as she was styled, having given to the Sheik an absurd paper of authority, no one is permitted to visit Palmyra without paying a thousand piastres! “The consequence of which is,” says Mr. Carne, “several travellers have left Syria without seeing the finest ruins in the world73.”
NO. XI.—PATRÆ.
“Night overtook us,” says Mr. Williams, “before we reached Patras, anciently called Patræ. But such a night! the moon was in full splendour; and while we travelled among the mysterious scenes, we were often tempted to pause and ask what could be those shadowy towers, that were perpetually arresting our attention? Nothing could be more pleasing or more romantic, than the winding of our cavalry among the projecting rocks and dismal hollows, when first a gleam of light prevailed, and then a solemn darkness veiled and softened all in sweet composure. The glow-worms, peeping from the bushes, seemed like fairies’ eyes; fireflies glanced in thousands, like the sun’s bright rays stealing on rippling waters in ebon shade; and how divine the evening star appeared, tipping the dark chain of Mount Olonos! The blackbird, too, with its train of dear associations, awakened our peculiar interest. All seemed, by their look of delight to say, ‘Sing on, sweet bird! and tell us of our absent friends and beloved country!’”
Patræ was a town of Peloponnesus, anciently called Aroe.
Diana had a temple there, and a statue formed of ivory and gold, which was considered a masterpiece. Apollo also had a temple, in which was a statue of the god, raised by Icadius.
In the time of Pausanias, Patræ was also adorned with porticoes, a theatre, and an odéum; the last of which was superior to any in Greece, with one exception, viz. that of Herodes Atticus at Athens. In the lower part of the city was a temple of Bacchus, in which was an image preserved in a chest. There was also one of Ceres, with a pleasant grove and a prophetic fountain, which determined the events of illness. After supplicating the goddess with incense, the sick person is said to have appeared, living or dead, in a mirror suspended so as to touch the surface of the water74.
Patræ was selected by Augustus as a place in which to settle some of those, who had fought with him at Actium. Some of the cities of Achaia were made tributary to the Patrenses, and they continued long to flourish after the decay of the neighbouring states.
They were rich in the monuments of art. Pausanias enumerates nineteen or twenty temples, besides statues, altars, and marble sepulchres, existing in his time in the city, the port, and the sacred groves.
Patras, though it has now recovered the destruction, was wholly destroyed by the Turks in 1770. We must, however, first state, that in 1447 it made the best defence against the Turks of any place in the Peloponnesus. In 1532 it was taken and ransacked by Doria. But of all its distresses the last was the most terrible; this was in 1770. It had lately been freed by the temporary success of Greek insurgents from the yoke of the Turks; but the appearance of the Athenians, who rushed through the passes of the isthmus to the assistance of the Mahometans, soon decided the fate of the place. An army of ten thousand, both horse and foot, entered the town through every avenue. It was not a contest, but a carnage: not a Greek capable of bearing arms was spared, and the houses were all burned to the ground75.
In forty years, Patras recovered this calamity, and is now said to be a flourishing place; but Mr. Dodwell describes it as being composed, like all other Turkish cities, of dirty and narrow streets; with houses built of earth, baked in the sun; with eaves overhanging the streets.
The few remains, which are in Patras, are of Roman construction; and those neither grand, interesting, nor well preserved. In the castle, however, there are said to be several beautiful forms of female statues: and here we have to state an instance of barbarism, strikingly illustrative of the character of the more ignorant portion of the Turks. Some marble columns and mutilated statues having been found, a few years ago, in the garden of a Turk, he immediately broke them to pieces!
There are several large fissures in the walls of the castle, occasioned by an earthquake, about forty years ago; in which forty persons were killed in the town, and thirteen crushed by the falling of one of the turrets.
“Nothing can be,” says Mr. Hobhouse, “more pleasant than the immediate vicinity of this town; which is one blooming garden of orange and lemon plantations, of olive groves, and currant grounds. The temple and the statues, the theatre, the columns and the marble porch, have disappeared: but the valleys and the mountains, and some, not frequent, fragments, of more value than all the costly monuments of barbaric labour,—these still remain, and remind the traveller, that he treads the ground once trod by the heroes and sages of antiquity. To traverse the native country of those, whose deeds and whose wisdom have been proposed to all the polished nations of every succeeding age, as the models which they should endeavour to imitate, but must never hope to equal, with no other emotions than would arise in passing through regions never civilised, is unnatural; is impossible! No one would roam with the same indifference through the sad solitudes of Greece, and the savage wilds of America; nor is the expression of feelings, which it is the object and end of all liberal education to instil and encourage, to be derided as the unprofitable effusion of folly and affectation.”76
NO. XII.—PELLA.
It was a long time before the Greeks had any regard to Macedonia. The kings, living retired in woods and mountains, it seemed not to be considered as a part of Greece.
Pella was the capital of the kings of Macedon. There Philip lived and reigned, and here Alexander was born. After his death the kingdom of Macedon frequently changed masters. Philip Aridæus was succeeded by Cassander, who left three sons. Philip, the eldest, died presently after his father. The other two contended for the crown, without enjoying it; both dying soon after without issue.
Demetrius Poliorcetes, Pyrrhus, and Lysimachus, made themselves masters of all, or the greatest part of Macedonia, sometimes in conjunction, and at other times separately.
After the death of Lysimachus, Seleucus possessed himself of Macedonia, but did not long enjoy it.
Ptolemy Ceraunus having slain the preceding prince, seized the kingdom, and possessed it alone but a very short time; having lost his life in a battle with the Gauls, who had made an irruption into that country.
Sosthenes, who defeated the Gauls, reigned also but a short time.
Antigonus Gonatus, the son of Demetrius Poliorcetes, obtained peaceable possession of the kingdom of Macedonia, and transmitted these dominions to his descendants, after he had reigned thirty-four years.
He was succeeded by his son, Demetrius, who reigned ten years, and then died; leaving a son, named Philip, who was but two years old.
Antigonus Doson, reigned twelve years, in the quality of guardian to the young prince.
Philip, after the death of Antigonus, ascended the throne, at the age of fourteen years. After him, Perseus; who was defeated and taken prisoner by Paulus Æmilius; and Macedonia, in consequence of that victory, was added to the provinces of the Roman empire, B. C. 160.
For this success Paulus Æmilius was honoured with a triumph; and as a description of that ceremony will serve to diversify our pages in a very agreeable manner, we adopt the account afforded us by Plutarch. “The people erected scaffolds in the Forum and Circus, and all other parts of the city where they could best behold the pomp. The spectators were clad in white garments; all the temples were open and full of garlands and perfumes; the ways cleared and cleansed by a great many officers and tipstaffs, that drove away such as thronged the passage, or straggled up and down. This triumph lasted three days. On the first, which was scarce long enough for the sight, were to be seen the statues, pictures, and images, of an extraordinary bigness, which were taken from the enemy, drawn upon seven hundred and fifty chariots. On the second, was carried, in a great many wains, the fairest and the richest armour of the Macedonians, both of brass and steel, all newly furbished and glittering; which, although piled up with the greatest art and order, yet seemed to be tumbled on heaps carelessly and by chance; helmets were thrown on shields, coats of mail upon greaves, Cretan targets, and Thracian bucklers and quivers of arrows lay huddled among the horses’ bits; and through these appeared the points of naked swords, intermixed with long spears. All these arms were tied together in a way, that they knocked against one another as they were drawn along, and made a harsh and terrible noise; so that the very spoils of the conquered could not be beheld without dread. After these waggons loaden with armour, there followed three thousand men, who carried the silver that was coined, in seven hundred and fifty vessels, each of which weighed three talents, and was carried by four men. Others brought silver bowls, and goblets, and cups, all disposed in such order as to make the best show, and all valuable, as well for their bigness, as the thickness of their engraved work. On the third day, early in the morning, first came the trumpeters, who did not sound as they were wont in a procession or solemn entry; but such a charge as the Romans use when they encourage their soldiers to fight. Next followed young men, girt about with girdles curiously wrought, which led to the sacrifice of hundred and twenty stalled oxen, with their horns gilded, and their heads adorned with ribands and garlands; and with these were boys that carried platters of silver and gold. After this was brought the gold coin, which was divided into vessels that weighed three talents, like to those that contained the silver; they were in number fourscore wanting three. These were followed by those that brought the consecrated bowl, which Æmilius caused to be made, that weighed ten talents, and was all beset with precious stones. Then were exposed to view the cups of Antigonus and Seleucus, and such as were made after the fashion invented by Thericles, and all the gold plate that was used at Perseus’s table. Next to these came Perseus’s chariot, in which his armour was placed, and on that his diadem. And after a little intermission, the king’s children were led captives, and with them a train of nurses, masters, and governors, who all wept, and stretched forth their hands to the spectators, and taught the little infants to beg and entreat their compassion. There were two sons and a daughter, who, by reason of their tender age, were altogether insensible of the greatness of their misery; which insensibility of their condition rendered it much more deplorable; insomuch, that Perseus himself was scarce regarded as he went along, whilst pity had fixed the eyes of the Romans upon the infants, and many of them could not forbear tears; all beheld the sight with a mixture of sorrow and joy, until the children were past. After his children and their attendants, came Perseus himself, clad all in black, and wearing slippers, after the fashion of his country. He looked like one altogether astonished and deprived of reason, through the greatness of his misfortunes. Next followed a great company of his friends and familiars, whose countenances were disfigured with grief, and who testified to all that beheld them by their tears, and their continual looking upon Perseus, that it was his hard fortune they so much lamented, that they were regardless of their own. After these were carried four hundred crowns all made of gold, and sent from the cities by their respective ambassadors to Æmilius, as a reward due to his valour. Then he himself came seated on a chariot magnificently adorned (a man worthy to be beheld, even without these ensigns of power): he was clad in a garment of purple interwoven with gold, and held out a laurel branch in his right hand. All the army, in like manner, with boughs of laurel in their hands, and divided into bands and companies, followed the chariot of their commander; some singing odes (according to the usual custom) mingled with raillery; others, songs of triumph, and the praises of Æmilius’s deeds, who was admired and accounted happy by all men; yet unenvied by every one that was good.”
“The ancient capital of the kings of Macedon,” says Monsieur de Pouqueville, “does not announce itself in its desolation to the eye of the stranger, as at Athens and Corinth, by the display of the remains of its ancient splendour. Its vestiges are found on an eminence sloping to the south-west, and surrounded by marshes. In vain, however, does the traveller look for the walls of the city, for the citadel, for the dykes constructed to defend from inundation the temples, buildings, and the monuments of its grandeur. The barbarians from the North, the Romans, and the succession of ages, have destroyed even the ruins. The once powerful city of Pella is now sunk down into fragments of tombs, masses of brick and tile, and about threescore huts, inhabited by Bulgarians, with a tower garrisoned by about a dozen Albanians. Such are the present edifices, population, and military establishment of Pella, once the powerful capital of Alexander and Perseus! A low Mahommedan now commands, whip in hand, in the city where Alexander first saw the light; and the paternal seat of that monarch, whose dominions extended from the Adriatic to the Indus, was, some years ago, the property of Achmet, son of Ismael, Bey of Serres77.”
NO. XIII.—PERGAMUS.
This was a city of Great Mysia, in Asia Minor, the capital of the kingdom of Pergamus, which was founded by a eunuch, named Philatera, who had been a servant to Docima, a commander of the troops of Antigonus.
Pergamus was assaulted by Philip, king of Macedon, in his war against Attalus the First, who had taken part with the Romans. All his efforts, however, being unavailing, he turned his rage and fury against the gods; and, not satisfied with burning their temples, he demolished statues, broke to pieces their altars, and even pulled up the stones from their foundations, that not the least footsteps of them might remain.
At the death of Attalus, his son Eumenes the Second succeeded; and it was during his reign and under his inspiration,—if such an expression may be allowed—that the celebrated library was collected78, which makes such a figure in literary history.
The kingdom ceased to exist at the death of Attalus the Third; since that prince left it to the Roman people.
As this event was very important to the city as well as kingdom of Pergamus, we may, with propriety, enter a little into the character of the prince, who made so extraordinary a bequeathment. Historians relate, that he was scarcely on the throne before he stained it with the blood of his nearest relatives. He caused almost all those, who had served his father and his uncle with extreme fidelity, to have their throats cut; under pretence that some of them had killed his mother, who died of a disease in a very advanced age, and others his wife, who died of an incurable distemper. He caused the destruction also of wives, children, and whole families. Having committed all these enormities, he appeared no more in the city, and ate no longer in public. He put on old clothes, let his beard grow, and did every thing which persons, accused of capital crimes, used to do in those days; as if he intended thereby to acknowledge the extent of his own atrocity. From hence he proceeded to other species of folly and iniquity. He renounced the cares of state, and retired into his garden, and applied to digging the ground himself, and sowing all sorts of poisonous as well as wholesome herbs; then poisoning the good with the juice of the bad, he sent them in that manner as presents to his friends. At length he took it into his head to practise the trade of a brass-founder; and formed the model of a monument of brass to be erected to his mother. As he was casting the metal for this purpose, one hot summer’s day, he was seized with a fever, which in a few days carried him off. The principal clause in his will was expressed in these terms:—“Let the people of Rome inherit all my fortunes.” This will having been carried to Rome, the city and kingdom of Pergamus, as we have already stated, passed into a Roman province.
Pergamus gave birth to Apollodorus, the preceptor of Augustus; and Galen, next to Hippocrates the greatest physician that ever adorned the annals of medical science. It is also remarkable for having been alluded to by Tiberius, in one of his hypocritical speeches to the Roman senate, as reported in Tacitus. “I know very well,” said he, “that many men will condemn me for suffering Asia to build me a temple, as Spain at present would do: but I will give you a reason for what I have done, and declare my resolution for the future. The divine Augustus, whose actions and words are so many inviolable laws to me, having consented that the people of Pergamus should dedicate a temple to him and the city of Rome, I thought I might follow so great an example; so much the rather, since the honour, intended me, was joined with the veneration paid to the senate. But as on the one hand it might have been too great a piece of severity to have denied it for once; so on the other, doubtless, it would be too great a vanity and folly, to suffer one’s self to be adored as a God, through all the provinces of the empire. Besides, it cannot but be a great diminution to the glory of Augustus, to communicate it indifferently to all the world. For my own part, I am mortal, and subject to human infirmities; I am contented with being a prince here, without being raised to the throne of a God. I protest to you, I desire this testimony may be given of me to posterity. It will be glory enough for me to be thought worthy of my ancestors; a vigilant prince, one who is insensible of fear, when the commonwealth is in danger. These are the temples and monuments which I desire to erect in your breasts: for works of marble and brass, raised to the glory of princes, are contemned by posterity as so many naked sepulchres, when their memory is condemned. I entreat heaven to give me a serenity of mind, and a spirit to discern and judge uprightly of the laws of God and man; and after my decease, I confide, my fellow-citizens and allies will preserve my memory with their blessings and praises.”
Mr. Turner found several ancient inscriptions at Pergamus. He ascended the ancient Acropolis, which is built on a mount of about two hundred feet height, overhanging the town: on the top are extensive remains of the walls both of the Roman and Venetian city. Part of the walls are built with large fluted columns, laid length-ways. Among the Roman ruins are several immense arched caves under ground, about sixty feet deep. At the top of the hill lay a large Corinthian capital, and half way down the hill a small marble column, on which is a Greek inscription, now illegible.
In a valley west of the Acropolis are considerable remains of a large Roman amphitheatre; near which is a gate with part of a wall. The arch of the gate is curiously inclined, being unequal; the only instance of such an irregularity Mr. Turner ever saw in an ancient building. There are also ruins of several Roman baths; in one of which was found a vase, which has excited a great deal of admiration. Mr. Turner thus describes it:—“It is of fine marble, and in good preservation, being only a little broken round the rim. The shape of it is a flattened globe; on the outside round the circumference of the centre are fifteen equestrian figures in high-relief; nine of these have their heads much broken, nine have their arms extended; the horses are all at full speed, and a race is probably the subject represented, as none of the figures bear arms. Five of the figures are clinging to their horses, and one appears to be falling. Nothing,” continues Mr. Turner, “can exceed the spirit of the execution; the very horses seem to breathe; above and below the figures a band, on which is engraved the pattern of a laurel leaf, surrounds the vase: a very correct engraving of which is given in the work of Choiseul-Gouffier. There are said to have been seven of these vases at Pergamus; six of which were taken to Constantinople.”
There are also in the neighbourhood of Bergamo, the present ruins of this city, six tumuli; three large and three small79.