Zenobia; or, the Fall of Palmyra by William Ware (latest ebook reader TXT) 📖

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.'

'You little traitor,' said the soldier,' art not ashamed to bring drink to me, who have helped to betray the city? Beware, or a sharp sword will cut you in two.'

'I thought,' replied the child, nothing daunted, 'that you were a soldier of Palmyra, who had been to fight the Romans. But whoever you may be, I am sure you need the water.'

'But,' rejoined the soldier, swallowing at long draughts as if it had been nectar, the cooling drink, 'do I deserve water, or any of these cowards here, who have been beaten by the Romans, and so broken the heart of our good Queen, and possibly lost her her throne? Answer me that.'

'You have done what you could, I know,' replied the boy, 'because you are a Palmyrene, and who can do more? I carry round the streets of the city in this palm-leaf basket, date cakes, which I sell to those who love them. But does my mother blame me because I do not always come home with an empty basket? I sell what I can. Should I be punished for doing what I cannot?'

'Get you gone, you rogue,' replied the soldier; 'you talk like a Christian boy, and they have a new way of returning good for evil. But here, if you have cakes in your basket, give me one and I will give you a penny all the way from Antioch. See! there is the head of Aurelian on it. Take care he don't eat you up--or at least your cakes. But hark you, little boy, do you see yonder that old man with a bald head, leaning against his shield? go to him with your cakes.'

The boy ran off.

'Friend,' said I, addressing him, 'your march has not lost you your spirits; you can jest yet.'

'Truly I can. If the power to do that were gone, then were all lost. A good jest in a time of misfortune is food and drink. It is strength to the arm, digestion to the stomach, courage to the heart. It is better than wisdom or wine. A prosperous man may afford to be melancholy, but if the miserable are so, they are worse than dead--but it is sure to kill them. Near me I had a comrade whose wit it was alone that kept life in me upon the desert. All the way from Emesa, had it not been for the tears of laughter, those of sorrow and shame would have killed me.'

'But in the words of the little cake urchin, you did what you could. The fates were opposed to you.'

'If all had done as much and as well as some, we would have had the fates in our own keeping. Had it not been for that artifice of the Romans at Antioch, we, had now been rather in Rome than here, and it was a woman--or girl rather, as I am told--the daughter of Gracchus, who first detected the cheat, and strove to save the army, but it was too late.'

'Were you near her?'

'Was I not? Not the great Zabdas himself put more mettle into the troops than did that fiery spirit and her black horse. And beyond a doubt, she would have perished through an insane daring, had not the Queen in time called her from the field, and afterward kept her within her sight and reach. Her companion, a Roman turned Palmyrene as I heard, was like one palsied when she was gone, till when, he had been the very Mars of the field. As it was, he was the true hero of the day. He brought to my mind Odenatus, 'Twas so he looked that day we entered Ctesiphon I could wish, and hope too, that he might share the throne of Zenobia, but that all the world knows what a man-hater she is. But were you not there?'

'No. It could not be. I remained in the city.'

'Ten thousand more of such men as you--and we would not have fallen back upon Emesa, nor left Antioch without the head of Aurelian. But alas for it, the men of Palmyra are men of silk, and love their pleasures too well to be free. I should call them women, but for Zenobia and the daughter of Gracchus.'

'Do not take me for one of them. I am a Roman--and could not fight against my country.'

'A Roman! and what makes you here? Suppose I were to run you through with this spear?'

'Give me another and you are welcome to try.'

'Am I so? Then will I not do it. Give a man his will and he no longer cares for it. Besides, having escaped with hazard from the clutches of one Roman, I will not encounter another. Dost thou know that demon Aurelian? Half who fell, fell by his hand. His sword made no more of a man in steel armor, than mine would of a naked slave. Many a tall Palmyrene did he split to the saddle, falling both ways. The ranks broke and fled wherever he appeared. Death could not keep pace with him. The Roman Piso--of our side--sought him over the field, to try his fortune with him, but the gods protected him, and he found him not: otherwise his body were now food for hyenas. No arm of mortal mould can cope with his, Mine is not despicable: there is not its match in Palmyra: but I would not encounter Aurelian unless I were in love with death.'

'It is as you say, I well know. He is reputed in our army to have killed more with his single arm in battle, than any known in Roman history. Our camp resounds with songs which celebrate his deeds of blood. His slain are counted by thousands, nothing less.'

'The gods blast him, ere he be seen before the walls of Palmyra; our chance were better against double the number of legions under another general. The general makes the soldier. The Roman infantry are so many Aurelians. Yet to-morrow's sun will see him here. I am free to say, I tremble for Palmyra. A war ill begun, will, if auguries are aught, end worse. Last night the sky was full of angry flashes, both white and red. While the army slept over-wrought upon the desert, and the silence of death was around, the watches heard sounds as of the raging of a battle, distinct and clear, dying away in groans as of a host perishing under the sword and battle-axe. These horrid sounds at length settled over the sleeping men, till it seemed as if they proceeded from them. The sentinels--at first struck dumb with terror and amazement--called out to one another to know what it should mean, but they could only confirm to each other what had been heard, and together ask the protection of the gods. But what strikes deeper yet, is what you have heard, that the Queen's far-famed Numidian, just as we came in sight of the walls of the city, stumbled, and where he stumbled, fell and died. What these things forebode, if not disaster and ruin, 'tis hard to say. I need no one to read them to me.'

Saying thus, he rose and began to divest himself of the remainder of his heavy armor, saying, as he did it--'It was this heavy armor that lost us the day at Antioch--lighter, and we could have escaped the meshes. Now let me lie and sleep.'

Returning, hardly had I arrived at the house of Gracchus, when it was announced in loud shouts by the slaves of the palace, that Gracchus himself, Fausta and Calpurnius were approaching. I hastened to the portico overlooking the court-yard, and was there just in season to assist Fausta to dismount. It was a joyful moment I need scarce assure you. Fausta returns wholly unhurt. Gracchus is wounded upon his left, and Calpurnius upon his right arm--but will not long suffer from the injury.

It was an unspeakable joy, once more to hear the cheerful voice of Gracchus resounding in the walls of his own dwelling, and to see Fausta, eased of her unnatural load of iron, again moving in her accustomed sphere in that graceful costume, partly Roman and partly Persian, and which now hides and now betrays the form, so as to reveal its beauty in the most perfect manner. A deep sadness, deeper than ever, sits upon her countenance, whenever her own thoughts occupy her. But surrounded by her friends, her native spirit, too elastic to be subdued, breaks forth, and she seems her former self again.

Our evening meal was sad, but not silent.

Gracchus instructed me, by giving a minute narrative of the march to Antioch--of the two battles--and the retreat. Calpurnius related with equal exactness the part which he took, and the services which Fausta, by her penetrating observation, had been able to render to the army. They united in bestowing the highest encomiums upon Zenobia, who herself planned the battle, and disposed the forces, and with such consummate judgment, that Zabdas himself found nothing to disapprove or alter.

'The day was clearly ours,' said Fausta, 'but for the artifice of Aurelian--allowable, I know, by all the rules of war--by which we were led on blindfold to our ruin. But flushed as we were by the early and complete success of the day, is it to be severely condemned that our brave men followed up their advantages with too much confidence, and broke from that close order, in which till then, they had fought; and by doing so, lost the command of themselves and their own strength? O, the dulness of our spirits, that we did not sooner detect the rank insincerity of that sudden, unexpected retreat of the Roman horse!'

'The gods rather be praised,' said Gracchus, 'that your watchful eye detected so soon, what was too well concerted and acted to be perceived at all, and that as the fruit of it we sit here alive, and Zenobia holds her throne, and so many of our brave soldiers are now locked in sleep