A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

Zenobia

W >> William Ware >> Zenobia




'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!'

I fly to the walls.

* * * * *

I resume my pen. The alarm was a true one. Upon gaining the streets, I
found the populace all pouring toward the Gate of the Desert, in which
direction, it was affirmed, the Queen was making her approach. Upon
reaching it, and ascending one of its lofty towers, I beheld from the
verge of the horizon to within a mile of the walls, the whole plain filled
with the scattered forces of Zenobia, a cloud of dust resting over the
whole, and marking out the extent of ground they covered. As the advanced
detachments drew near, how different a spectacle did they present from
that bright morning, when glittering in steel, and full of the fire of
expected victory, they proudly took their way toward the places from which
they now were returning, a conquered, spoiled, and dispirited remnant,
covered with the dust of a long march, and wearily dragging their limbs
beneath the rays of a burning sun. Yet was there order and military
discipline preserved, even under circumstances so depressing, and which
usually are an excuse for their total relaxation. It was the silent,
dismal march of a funeral train, rather than the hurried flight of a
routed and discomfited army. There was the stiff and formal military
array, but the life and spirit of an elated and proud soldiery were gone.
They moved with method to the sound of clanging instruments, and the long,
shrill blast of the trumpet, but they moved as mourners, They seemed as
if they came to bury their Queen.

Yet the scene changed to a brighter aspect, as the army drew nearer and
nearer to the walls, and the city throwing open her gates, the populace
burst forth, and with loud and prolonged shouts, welcomed them home. These
shouts sent new life into the hearts of the desponding ranks, and with
brightened faces and a changed air they waved their arms and banners, and
returned shout for shout. As they passed through the gates to the ample
quarters provided within the walls, a thousand phrases of hearty greeting
were showered down upon them, from those who lined the walls, the towers,
and the way-side, which seemed, from the effects produced in those on whom
they fell, a more quickening restorative than could have been any medicine
or food that had ministered only to the body.

The impatience of the multitude to behold and receive the Queen was hardly
to be restrained from breaking forth in some violent way. They were ready
to rush upon the great avenue, bearing aside the troops, that they might
the sooner greet her. When, at length, the centre of the army approached,
and the armed chariot appeared in which Zenobia sat, the enthusiasm of the
people knew no bounds. They broke through all restraint, and with cries
that filled the heavens, pressed toward her--the soldiers catching the
frenzy and joining them--and quickly detaching the horses from her
carriage, themselves drew her into the city just as if she had returned
victor with Aurelian in her train. There was no language of devotion and
loyalty that did not meet her ear, nor any sign of affection that could
be made from any distance, from the plains, the walls, the gates, the
higher buildings of the city, the roofs of which were thronged, that did
not meet her eye. It was a testimony of love so spontaneous and universal,
a demonstration of confidence and unshaken attachment so hearty and
sincere, that Zenobia was more than moved by it, she was subdued--and she
who, by her people, had never before been seen to weep, bent her head and
buried her face in her hands.

With what an agony of expectation, while this scene was passing, did I
await the appearance of Fausta, and Gracchus, and Calpurnius--if, indeed,
I were destined ever to see them again. I waited long, and with pain, but
the gods be praised, not in vain, nor to meet with disappointment only.
Not far in the rear of Zenobia, at the head of a squadron of cavalry,
rode, as my eye distinctly informed me, those whom I sought. No sooner did
they in turn approach the gates, than almost the same welcome that had
been lavished upon Zenobia, was repeated for Fausta, Gracchus, and
Calpurnius. The names of Calpurnius and Fausta--of Calpurnius, as he who
had saved the army at Antioch, of Fausta as the intrepid and fast friend
of the Queen, were especially heard from a thousand lips, joined with
every title of honor. My voice was not wanting in the loud acclaim. It
reached the ears of Fausta, who, starting and looking upward, caught my
eye just as she passed beneath the arch of the gateway. I then descended
from my tower of observation, and joined the crowds who thronged the close
ranks, as they filed along the streets of the city. I pressed upon the
steps of my friends, never being able to keep my eyes from the forms of
those I loved so well, whom I had so feared to lose, and so rejoiced to
behold returned alive and unhurt.

All day the army has continued pouring into the city, and beside the army
greater crowds still of the inhabitants of the suburbs, who, knowing that
before another day shall end, the Romans may encamp before the walls, are
scattering in all directions--multitudes taking refuge in the city, but
greater numbers still, mounted upon elephants, camels, dromedaries and
horses, flying into the country to the north. The whole region as far as
the eye can reach, seems in commotion, as if society were dissolved, and
breaking up from its foundations. The noble and the rich, whose means are
ample, gather together their valuables, and with their children and
friends seek the nearest parts of Mesopotamia, where they will remain in
safety till the siege shall be raised. The poor, and such as cannot reach
the Euphrates, flock into the city, bringing with them what little of
provisions or money they may possess, and are quartered upon the
inhabitants, or take up a temporary abode in the open squares, or in the
courts and porticos of palaces and temples--the softness and serenity of
the climate rendering even so much as the shelter of a tent superfluous.
But by this vast influx the population of the city cannot be less than
doubled, and I should tremble for the means of subsistence for so large a
multitude, did I not know the inexhaustible magazines of grain, laid up by
the prudent foresight of the Queen, in anticipation of the possible
occurrence of the emergency which has now arrived. A long time--longer
than he himself would be able to subsist his army--must Aurelian lie
before Palmyra ere he can hope to reduce it by famine. What impression his
engines may be able to make upon the walls, remains to be seen. Periander
pronounces the city impregnable. My own judgment, formed upon a comparison
of it with the cities most famous in the world for the strength of their
defences, would agree with his.

Following on in the wake of the squadron to which Fausta was attached, I
wished to reach the camp at the same time with herself and Gracchus and
my brother, but owing to the press in the streets, arising from the
causes just specified, I was soon separated from, and lost sight of it.
Desirous however to meet them, I urged my way along with much labor till
I reached the quarter of the city assigned to the troops, where I found
the tents and the open ground already occupied. I sought in vain for
Fausta. While I waited, hoping still to see her, I stood leaning upon a
pile of shields, which the soldiers, throwing off their arms, had just
made, and watching them as they were, some disencumbering themselves of
their armor, others unclasping the harness of their horses, others
arranging their weapons into regular forms, and others, having gone
through their first tasks, were stretching themselves at rest beneath the
shadow of their tents, or of some branching tree. Near me sat a soldier,
who, apparently too fatigued to rid himself of his heavy armor, had
thrown himself upon the ground, and was just taking off his helmet, and
wiping the dust and sweat from his face, while a little boy, observing
his wants, ran to a neighboring fountain, and filling a vessel with
water, returned and held it to him, saying, 'Drink, soldier this will
make you stronger than your armor.'

Copyright (c) 2007. famouswriterz.com. All rights reserved.