The description Herbert gives of Persepolis in the first two editions of his Travels, which appeared in 1634 and 1638, is extremely meagre and imperfect.[25] He says it was built by ‘Sosarinus, who lived in the Median dynasty, the third Emperor from Arbaces, who gave end to Sardanapalus.’[26] It flourished for two hundred and thirty years till destroyed by Alexander. He does not believe that Shiraz was ever a part of Persepolis, thirty miles distant, though the one may have risen out of the other. He remarks that the ‘whole basis’ or platform ‘is cut by incredible toyle out of the solid marble rock twice the compasse of Wyndsor Castle.’ It is approached by ‘ninety-five easie staires, dissected from the durable black marble,’ ‘so broad that a dozen horsemen may ride up abreast together.’ The total ascent, however, is not more than twenty-two feet, and at the summit is a gate ‘engraven with a mightie elephant on one side and a Rhynoceros on the other.’ These majestic figures are thirty feet high; and a little beyond are two other piers ‘wherein is engraven a Pegasus.’ Between them he noticed two columns, and was consequently more accurate than Don Garcia. ‘Of like work, bulk and matter are two gallant Towers.’ The gate leads to the famous Columns, of which only nineteen now remain standing, and one other below in the plain. ‘Howbeit the ruines and ground of four score more are yet visible: this great roome was the Hall.’ He at first estimated the height of the columns at ‘fifteen foote,’ but later (1638) he modified this to from fifteen to twenty cubits. And they ‘rise beautifully in forty squares or concave parallels; every square has three full inches.’ ‘Adjoining is another square roome whose blacke marble wals are yet abiding.’ It has eight doors ‘exquisitely engraven with images of Lions, Tygres, Griffons and Buls of rare sculpture and perfection: a top of each door is the image of an Emperour in state with staffe and scepter.’ Elsewhere he amplifies this account. ‘In other places (for the wals are durable) Battailes, Hecatombs, triumphs, Olympick games, and the like, in very rare sculpture and proportion.’ The country people gave different accounts as to whom this figure was intended to represent, and they variously proposed Jamsheat, Aaron, Sampson and Solomon, but they excluded Rustam. This room measured ‘ninety paces from angle to angle, in circuit three hundred and sixty paces, beautified with eight dores,’ and joining it were two smaller apartments, one seventy by sixty, the other thirty by twenty paces. He was told that the first was the Chamber of the Queen and the other the nursery. He was particularly struck by the appearance of the latter. ‘The wals are,’ he says, ‘rarely engraven with images of huge stature, and have been illustrated with gold which in some places is visible, the stones in many parts so well polisht that they equal for brightnesse a steele mirrour.’ He was at a loss to assign this wonderful building to any of the known styles of architecture: ‘whether this Fabrick was Ionick Dorick or Corinthiack I cannot determine, but such to this day it is that a ready Lymmer in three moneths space can hardly (to do it well) depict out all her excellencies.’
He also noticed the tomb mentioned by Don Garcia. It lies, he says, ‘somewhat further, over heaps of stones of valewable portraictures.’ ‘It is cut out of the perpendicular mountaine,’ and represents ‘the image of a King (which may be Cambyses) adoring three deities, the fire, the sunne and a serpent.’ He also mentions ‘Nasci Rustam,’ the monument of Rustam, situated, he says, five miles west of Persepolis.[27]
Herbert gives an engraving of the ruins, which is the first general view ever taken of Persepolis in modern times. It only occupies a portion of a small folio page, and it is scarcely possible to imagine any drawing more inaccurate and grotesque. We ascend to the platform by a series of about fourteen steps leaning straight up against it, at right angles to the line of the terrace. At the summit there is not a trace of the Porch, but we pass through a narrow opening with posts on either side. On the top of one of these appears an elephant with its proboscis stretched out in a menacing attitude. On the top of the other post we observe an unpleasant creature leaning forward, possibly intended for a tiger. When we have made our way through these inhospitable guardians and gained the platform, we find the whole of it on the left-hand side occupied by columns. Facing the entrance, at some distance from it, we see three doors and the high wall of a roofless building, and behind it a lofty and ragged mountain. Behind the columns on the left at a great elevation we observe a kneeling figure, worshipping a serpent coiling round a cross, and beyond, an altar on which fire is burning. To the right, on the same level, we observe a human-headed centipede. This misleading picture is reproduced evidently from the same plate in the second edition of 1638. It was not till the appearance of the second edition that he thought it worth while to notice the existence of the cuneiform letters. ‘In part of this great roome,’ he says, referring to the Palace of Darius ‘(not farre from the portall) in a mirrour of polisht marble wee noted above a dozen lynes of strange characters, very faire and apparent to the eye, but so mysticall, so odly framed as no Hieroglyphick no other deep conceit can be more difficultly fancied, more adverse to the intellect. These consisting of figures, obelisk, triangular and pyramidall yet in such simmetry and order as cannot well be called barbarous. Some resemblance, I thought some words had of the Antick Greek shadowing out Ahashuerus Theos. And though it have small concordance with the Hebrew, Greek and Latine letter, yet questionlesse to the Inventer it was well knowne and peradventure may conceale some excellent matter though to this day wrapt up in the dim leafes of envious obscuritie.’[28]
The letter of Don Garcia had appeared in Purchas the year before Herbert sailed for India, and it is obvious he had it before him when he wrote his own account. Indeed he refers to Don Garcia, though he does not acknowledge his own obligations to him. Don Garcia in his letter did not mention the sculptured stairs, one of the most remarkable features of the ruin; Herbert has likewise passed it over in silence. Don Garcia remarked that it was possible to ride up the stairs to the platform. Herbert adds that twelve horsemen might ride abreast; forty years later he recollected that he had actually witnessed this feat accomplished. Both writers express doubts in nearly the same language as to the style of the architecture; they both compare the cuneiform letters to ‘pyramids’ and ‘obelisks,’ and they both note their dissimilarity to Hebrew, Greek and Latin. Herbert had, however, the merit of giving the earliest published account of the Palace of Darius.[29] His description of the animals on the gate and his measurements are also wholly his own.
Having spent two days at Persepolis, he followed the mission to Asheraff, on the Caspian, where Shah Abbas was holding his Court. The result was extremely disappointing. The Shah indeed received Sir Dormer Cotton with his usual courtesy, and declared his continued friendship for Sir Robert Shirley. He acknowledged the services Shirley had rendered, and protested his willingness to punish his traducer, if that miscreant had not unfortunately escaped his vengeance by death. But the Shah was then an old man, and he appears to have fallen under the influence of a favourite Minister. This functionary interposed so successfully that the Ambassador could never obtain a second interview, and, after considerable delay, the courtier assured him that he had the royal authority to declare that the credentials of Sir Robert Shirley were fictitious. This startling communication was certainly false, and no doubt it originated with the Minister himself; but it was no less decisive of the matter. Overcome by disappointment, both Sir Dormer and Shirley fell ill and died shortly afterwards. Herbert continued his journey, and after visiting Babylon, returned to Surat, on his way home.
The account he gave of the ruins to his friends excited considerable interest, which was stimulated by the publication of two editions of his Travels. He often expressed his regret that adequate drawings were not made by a competent artist before the monument was irrevocably destroyed: ‘The barbarous people every day defacing it and cleaving it asunder for grave stones and benches to sit upon.’ The result of these representations was that Lord Arundel sent out a young artist for the express purpose, who unfortunately died before he reached his destination. It seems indeed that the ruins were for a time really exposed to considerable danger. In consequence of the writings of Della Valle and Herbert, they were visited by so many foreigners of distinction that the Governors of Shiraz found their revenues seriously taxed by the obligations of hospitality. Several, it was said, were ruined, and at length one of the Governors made a deliberate attempt to destroy the cause of so much inconvenience. But the solidity of the structure offered serious obstacles to the execution of this design.
Meanwhile Persia was beginning to attract more general attention, and in 1637 it was visited by a German named Oelschloeger, more euphemistically styled Olearus. His ‘Beschreibung’ was first published at Schleswig in 1647, and a revised edition appeared in 1656.[30] It is a magnificent folio in black-letter, richly adorned with a profusion of excellent engravings and a number of maps. The book was translated into Dutch in 1651, into French in 1656, and into English in 1666. Olearus was born in Anhalt in the first year of the century, and entered the service of the Duke of Holstein-Gottorp. The Duke had recently founded the town of Friederichstadt, and he desired to open a trade with Persia by way of Russia. He accordingly sent a commission to Moscow and Persia to negotiate the business, and Olearus was attached to it as secretary.[31] They left Gottrop in October 1635, but it was not till the end of March 1636 that they even reached Moscow. They continued their journey in the end of May, and arrived at Ispahan in April of the following year (1637). Shah Abbas had died in 1629, but they were well received by his successor, Shah Sefy, and the usual interchange of presents followed. One of the Ambassadors, a merchant named Brugman, displayed very undiplomatic conduct, and the embassy failed in its purpose. It accomplished the return journey somewhat more rapidly, in about a year and a half (December 21, 1637, to August 1, 1639). Olearus did not visit Persepolis himself, but a member of the mission, the ‘hochedel gebornen’ Mandelslo, proceeded to India by the well-known route to Ormuz and passed the ruins. Olearus devoted himself to Persian studies, and translated ‘Gulistan.’ But his chief service is the excellent edition he published of the travels of Mandelslo, which he enriched by copious notes of his own taken from various sources.[32] We learn from this work that, on his way from Ispahan to the coast, in 1638, Mandelslo came to a large village called Meshid Maderre Soliman, which, he said, derived its name from a tomb half a mile distant. It was explained to him by the Carmelites of Shiraz that no doubt it was the resting place of the mother of the great Shah Solimans, though the popular opinion in the neighbourhood was that it was the tomb of Solomon himself. He gives an excellent description of the chapel of white marble resting upon successive tiers of square blocks of hewn stone; and adds that in his day there might still be seen within the chapel strange letters in unknown characters engraved upon the walls. These, however, were afterwards ascertained to be merely verses from the Koran, written in Arabic. He has given a drawing of it, which conveys a fair impression of its appearance, and is curious as the earliest known representation of the tomb of Cyrus. Continuing to the south, he reached Persepolis. He heard many fabulous accounts of its origin, some ascribing it to Tzemschied Padschach, others to Solomon, and some even to Darius; but his informants were clear that it had been destroyed by ‘Iskander as they call Alexander.’ The ascent is made by four stairs with ninety-five marble steps. On reaching the summit he found the remains of four walls, apparently designed for gates. On the two first were horses carved in stone, with curious head-stalls and saddles. On the other two the horses have lion heads and are adorned with crowns and wings. He also, like Herbert, entirely omits to mention the sculptured stairs, and passes direct from the gates to the describe the columns. He found nineteen standing, and eleven others partly ruined, but no doubt the original number was forty. He could not decide whether the building had been roofed. Passing on, a slight ascent brought him to two moderate-sized chambers, of which the door and window posts remained as well as the walls, the latter remarkable for their beautiful shining marble. On the sides of the doors he observed figures larger than life, some sitting and others standing. They wore long beards and their hair descended to the shoulder, while their robes extended to the feet. Not far distant are other chambers, but of these nothing remains except the door and window frames. ‘Not far from these rooms,’ he continues, ‘is a square column in which is a polished stone, some say of jasper, in which are engraved singular characters or writing, which no one can read. They seem as if they had been inlaid with gold.’ The rest of the platform is beautiful and level, and measures about 300 by 200 paces. Mandelslo has illustrated his description by an engraving that scarcely does justice to the text. After the statement that the platform was reached by four stairs, we were not prepared to find in the illustration a single row of steps leading straight up at right angles. The translator, Davies, seems to have thought that by the four stairs were meant a single flight at each corner of the platform. The four ‘walls’ of the Porch appear as a series of detached stones placed in a row, one after the other, along the western line of the terrace. The animals are cut out of the front of each stone, but they have no appearance of supporting any portion of the structure. Beyond, at some distance to the east, is a small square building, having on one side the slab with the inscription. There is no indication whatever of the sculptured terrace, which is indeed wholly forgotten in the text. The columns, however, at length appear for the first time in the true direction to the right of the entrance. From them an immense wall extends right across the platform to the east. It is pierced below by one large and three other smaller doors. Above, apparently belonging to a second story, are a series of seven or eight double windows, while still higher we observe several figures of men and animals. This great structure obscures the view of the tombs on the hill, and they are not mentioned in the text. Olearus, in his notes, refers to Barbaro, and, at second hand, to Don Garcia. But his chief reference is to Herbert, from whom he quotes the whole of the account given in the earlier editions of the Travels.
Mandelslo’s book was translated into English by John Davies, and it appeared in 1662, four years after its original publication; but the illustrations were not reproduced.[33] The translator has adopted the very singular method of incorporating with the text the notes that Olearus added from other writers. Mandelslo is thus made to appear as if he had quietly appropriated without acknowledgment the observations made by Barbaro, Don Garcia, and Herbert. The translator is, however, wholly responsible for this peculiar result. At the time Olearus issued his edition (1658) the text, taken together with the notes, probably resumed all that was then known concerning Persepolis and the cuneiform letters; and the translator made no independent additions.[34] But in the same year (1658) the third volume of Della Valle’s Travels was at length published, in which he gives the account of his visit to the ruins. His fame soon became well known in England, and a translation of his Travels to India appeared in 1665, along with those of Sir Thomas Roe.
Nearly thirty years had now elapsed since the last edition of Sir Thomas Herbert’s book was published (1638). He was still living, and no doubt he became sensible of the deficiency of his own account of Persepolis in comparison with that of Della Valle. It appears also that a Mr. Skinner had recently returned from Persia, with whom Herbert had the advantage of conversing. He had, moreover, preserved ‘the mixt notes’ he took at the time of his visit, nearly forty years before, and with a memory thus refreshed he sat down to compose a greatly enlarged account of the famous ruins.[35] He also gave instructions to the engraver Holler to execute an entirely new design of the place, which was accomplished in 1663. The view is still characterised by the most surprising inaccuracy. It is upon a much larger scale, and is a far more pretentious work than its predecessor. We now ascend to the platform by a double staircase parallel to the line of the terrace, but it is still erroneously represented projecting prominently from beyond it. At the summit we observe the four animals and the two columns of the Porch. There is, however, no trace of the walls the animals supported. In front are an elephant on one side and a rhinoceros on the other, having ‘visages with beards and long hair like men, agreeable to that fourth beast which Daniel looked upon.’ One of the other animals is ‘like unto a Pegasus,’ ‘trapped with warlike mail’; but the fourth ‘is so disfigured that it cannot be described.’ Turning to the right, we see at the edge of the terrace a tombstone of the usual pattern, engraved apparently with cuneiform letters. It stands entirely by itself, and is no doubt the jasper or marble table referred to in the text. Beyond it, upon the same level, are a large number of columns and the ruins of many others are to be seen strewn upon the ground. He tells us ‘there be but 19 pillars at this day extant, yet the fractures and bases of 21 more are perspicable.’ ‘It is evident,’ however, he continues, ‘there were in all a hundred pillars when the place was in perfection, as appears by the vacant spaces and also bases ... which are yet visible.’ The entire centre of the picture is occupied by a raised platform, no less than thirty feet above the level of the porch and columns. It is approached by a double staircase constructed in precisely the same manner as the first. The north wall of this elevated terrace stretches across, west to east, from the columns below to the hill that bounds the platform on the east, and it is completely covered from end to end with bas-reliefs. This sculptured wall was entirely forgotten by Herbert in his earlier editions, and it is now described elaborately, the description being evidently borrowed from Della Valle, a few errors being introduced, possibly from the ‘mixt notes.’ Having ascended to this elevated terrace, we come to a huge two-storied building, open at the top, resembling a modern factory gutted by a fire. It is divided into three compartments, and is represented as occupying the whole western side of the platform. Both within and without, from top to bottom, we observe the walls are entirely covered with bas-reliefs. On turning to the text for an explanation, we find, however, that the building still possesses its former modest dimensions; but ‘the walls and broken arches were wrought or pourtrayed with figures resembling some great persons on horseback, after whom proceed several others in sacerdotal habits.’ He has still a clear recollection of the ‘gold that was laid upon the Freez and Cornish, as also upon the trim of Vests.’ Turning away from this wonderful building, we observe a small ruin in the north-east corner, standing like the one just described upon the upper platform. This corresponds in position to that occupied by the Hall of the Hundred Columns, and the description he gives of it is one of the most singular portions of his narrative. He came, he says, to a large square room, where he observed bas-reliefs of a great person, and ‘sundry petitioners, but in several habits, as men of several nations,’ besides guards armed with spears. Near this he penetrated into a vault, ‘flagged at the bottome with square marble stones,’ which led him into a ‘fair room or chappel,’ ‘supported by four pillars 4 yards about, 8 in heighth and 4 yards from each other.’ He found the entrance elaborately sculptured with the figures of men, apparently priests, with uplifted hands. By another subterranean passage he reached a second chapel, also supported by four pillars seven yards high. Upon the arch is a man of colossal size with a lion couchant at his feet. Near him a king seated on a chair of state and on either side two rows of flamens. A few paces thence he beheld two giants, who by pure force subjugate two lions, and not far off a great prince, holding a sceptre or Pastoral Staff. On one side of him stand the Satraps, and on the other the Magi or priests. Opposite is a prisoner in chains, who he conjectures may be Daniel or Croesus. Beneath are six ranks of guards carrying spikes. Such is the first detailed account we have of the Hall of the Hundred Columns, and the elaborate sculptures with which it is adorned. It is remarkable that the accumulation of rubbish should have been so great that Herbert says ‘’tis presumed that the greatest part of the pile was vaulted underground’; and that, according as he burrowed laboriously through the débris, each of its great doors should appear to him like vaulted chapels.[36]