The archæology of the cuneiform inscriptions

by A. H. Sayce

Meanwhile, Anquetil-Duperron, with self-sacrificing enthusiasm, had rediscovered the Zend of the later Zoroastrian faith, and de Sacy, with the help of it, had deciphered the Pehlevi inscriptions of the Sassanid kings. It was only the older Persian of the Achæmenian cuneiform inscriptions that still awaited interpretation; and a bridge had been built between it and modern Persian by means of the Zendic texts. In 1802 the guess was made which opened the way to the decipherment of the mysterious wedge-shaped signs. The inspired genius was Grotefend, an accomplished Latinist and a school-master at Frankfort-on-the-Main. He knew no Oriental languages, but his mother-wit and common-sense more than made up for the deficiency. It was clear to him that the three systems of cuneiform represented three different languages, the Persian kings being like a Turkish pasha of to-day, who, when he wishes an edict to be understood, writes it in Turkish and Arabic. It was also clear to him that the first system must be the script of the Persian kings themselves, of which the other two were translations. The preparatory work for reading this had already been done by Münter; what Grotefend now had to do was to identify and read the names to which the word for “king” was attached.

On comparing the inscriptions together he found that while the word for “king” remained unchanged, the word which accompanied it at the beginning of an inscription varied on different monuments. There were, in fact, two wholly different words, one of which was peculiar to one set of monuments, the other to another set. But he also found that the first of these words followed the other on the second set of monuments, though with a different termination from that which belonged to it when it took the place of the first word. Hence he conjectured that the two words represented the names of two Persian kings, one of whom was the son of the other, the termination of the second name when it followed the first being that of the genitive. It was now necessary to discover who the kings were whose names had thus been found. Fortunately the Achæmenian dynasty was not a long one, and the number of royal names in it was not large. And of these names, Cyrus was too short and Artaxerxes too long for either of the two names which Grotefend had detected. There only remained Darius and Xerxes, and as Xerxes was the son of Darius, the name which characterized the first set of monuments must be Darius.

Grotefend’s next task was to ascertain the old Persian pronunciation of the name of Darius. This had been given by Strabo, while the Persian pronunciation of Xerxes was indicated in the Old Testament. With this assistance Grotefend was able to assign alphabetic values to the cuneiform characters which composed the two names, and a corner of the veil which had so long covered the cuneiform records was lifted at last. A comparison of the names which he had thus read gave the needful verification of the correctness of his method. In the names of Darius and Xerxes the same letters occur, but in different places; a and r in Darius occupy the second and third places, in Xerxes the fourth and fifth, while sh, which is the last letter in Darius, would be the second and sixth in Xerxes. And such was actually the case. Grotefend was therefore justified in concluding that his guesses were correct, and that the right values had been assigned to the cuneiform characters. A beginning had been made in cuneiform decipherment, and in this instance the beginning was half the whole.

Grotefend’s Memoir was presented to the Göttingen Academy on September 4, 1802. By a curious accident it was at the same meeting that Heyne described the first attempts that had been made towards deciphering the Egyptian hieroglyphs. But the learned world looked askance at the discoveries of the young Latinist. The science of archæology was still unborn, and Oriental philologists were unable even to understand the inductive method of the decipherer. The Academy of Göttingen refused to print his communications, and it was not until 1815 that they appeared in the first volume of the History of his friend Heeren, who, being untrammelled by the prejudices of Oriental learning, had been one of the earliest to accept his conclusions.[4] For a whole generation the work of decipherment was allowed to sleep.

It is unfortunately true that after his initial success Grotefend’s ignorance of Oriental languages really did stand in his way. He assumed that the language of the inscriptions and that of the Zend-Avesta were one and the same, and accordingly went to the newly-found Zend dictionary for the readings of the cuneiform names and words. Vishtaspa, the name of the father of Darius, was thus read Goshtasp, the word for “king” became khsheh instead of khshayathiya, and that which Grotefend had correctly divined to signify “great,” eghre instead of vazraka. It is not wonderful, therefore, that he was never able to follow up the beginning he had made.

To do this was reserved for the Zendic scholars of a later generation. Rask the Dane in 1826 determined the true form of the genitive plural, and thereby identified the character for m which gave him the names of the supreme god Auramazda and of Achæmenes the forefather of Cyrus.[5] But the great step forward was made by the eminent French scholar, Emile Burnouf, in 1836.[6] The first of the inscriptions published by Niebuhr he discovered to contain a list of the satrapies of Darius. With this clue in his hand the reading of the names and the subsequent identification of the letters which composed them could be a question only of patience and time. For this Burnouf was well equipped by his philological knowledge and training, and the result was an alphabet of thirty letters, the greater part of which had been correctly deciphered.

Burnouf’s Memoir on the subject was published in June 1836. In the preceding month his friend and pupil, Professor Lassen of Bonn, had also published a work on “The Old Persian Cuneiform Inscriptions of Persepolis.”[7] He and Burnouf had been in frequent correspondence, and his claim to have independently detected the names of the satrapies, and thereby to have fixed the values of the Persian characters, was in consequence fiercely attacked. To the attacks made upon him, however, Lassen never vouchsafed a reply. Whatever his obligations to Burnouf may have been, his own contributions to the decipherment of the inscriptions were numerous and important. He succeeded in fixing the true values of nearly all the letters in the Persian alphabet, in translating the texts, and in proving that the language of them was not Zend, but stood to both Zend and Sanskrit in the relation of a sister.

Meanwhile another scholar, armed with fresh and important material, had entered the field. A young English officer in the East India Company’s service, Major Rawlinson by name, was attached to the British Mission in Persia. A happy inspiration led him to attempt the decipherment of the cuneiform inscriptions. It was in 1835, when he was twenty-five years old, that he first began his work. All that he knew was that Grotefend had discovered in the texts of Persepolis the names of Darius, of Xerxes and of Hystaspes, but cut off as he was in his official position at Kirmanshah on the western frontier of Persia from European libraries, he was unable to procure either the Memoir of the German scholar or the articles to which it had given rise. Like Burnouf, he set himself to decipher the two inscriptions of Hamadan, which he had himself copied with great care. He soon recognized in them the names that had been read by Grotefend, and thus obtained a working alphabet. But his position in Persia soon gave him an advantage which was denied to his fellow-workers in Europe. It was not long before he found an opportunity of copying the great inscription on the sacred rock of Behistun, which had never been copied before. It was by far the longest cuneiform inscription yet discovered, and was filled with proper names, including those of the Persian satrapies. The copying of it, however, cost much time and labour, and was accomplished at actual risk of life, as Major Rawlinson, better known by his later title of Sir Henry Rawlinson, had to be lowered in a basket from the top of the cliff in order to ascertain the exact forms of certain characters.

THE TOMB OF DARIUS.