The discovery and decipherment of the trilingual cuneiform inscriptions

by Arthur John Booth

The hill that overhangs the platform on the south-east is shown by the drawing to be covered by a wonderful work of art. Four rows of figures support a stage whereon we observe a kneeling figure; but the serpent is now seen grovelling upon the ground, and the centipede of the earlier edition has developed into ‘a demon of as uncouth and ugly a shape as well could be imagined.’ ‘It is of a gigantic size ... discovering a most dreadful visage twixt man and beast. This monster has seven several arms.’ He now treats us to three lines of inscriptions ‘for better demonstration, which nevertheless whiles they cannot be read, will in all probability like the Mene Tekel without the help of a Daniel hardly be interpreted.’ He agrees with Della Valle that each character might represent a word—or at least a syllable. He also agrees with the same authority that the writing ran from left to right, but in the sample he gives us, two or three characters are placed upside down which, if they had fallen under Della Valle’s notice in that position would have entirely upset his argument from their ‘posture and tendency.’ Herbert compared the characters with ‘twelve several alphabets in Postellus and with the fifty-eight alphabets which Purchas had borrowed from the learned Gromex,’ but he could not perceive the least resemblance. They are, he says, ‘like Pyramids inverted, or with bases upwards, or like Triangles or Deltas.’ He, however, recommends the study to ‘ingenious persons who delight themselves in this dark and difficult art or exercise of Deciphering.’ The language must have been known to Daniel, who was probably the architect of this palace as of ‘Shushan and Ecbatan’; for we know that he was a ‘civil officer’ under ‘Nebuchadnezzar, Belshazzar, Astyages, Darius and Cyrus.’

During the remainder of the century we are chiefly indebted to French travellers for the gradual accumulation of more correct information upon this subject, and it was greatly to their advantage that they could always depend upon a hospitable welcome and much store of information from the friendly Superior of the Capuchins at Ispahan. When Persia was first rendered accessible to Europeans by the liberal policy of Shah Abbas, numerous missionaries flocked to the capital in the hope of winning converts to the Roman faith. We have already seen that the Augustinian Friars who arrived with Gouvea were awarded a disused palace as a monastery. They were followed, in 1608, by Carmelites from Rome. In 1627, Father Pacifique, of the French Order of Capuchins, obtained permission to establish missions at Ispahan and Bagdad; and during the second half of the seventeenth century their house became a resort of the principal European travellers. The rule of Père Raphael du Mans covered the whole of that period. He is first heard of at Ispahan, in 1644, where he remained as Superior of the Order till his death, in 1696, at the age of eighty-three. Not long after the settlement of the Capuchins, the Jesuits also made a similar attempt, but without much success; they were, however, given permission to open schools at Tauriz and a few other places in the south of Persia. It must be recollected that the object of these religious persons was not so much the conversion of Mahomedans—an attempt which when discovered was always rigorously punished—as the extension of the Roman sway over the Georgian and other native Christians. Resident agents of the Dutch and English East India Companies had also long been settled in the country. The Shah presented them with handsome residences at Ispahan and Shiraz; and they had permanent establishments at Bunder Abbas. The French still remained at a great disadvantage. Their first East India Company was formed in 1604, but for more than thirty years it did not fit out a single ship. At length its term of privilege expired without its ever having been exercised (1635), and a merchant of Dieppe despatched a vessel on his own account. A small Company was eventually formed and an attempt made to found a trading colony at Madagascar in imitation of those possessed by the English and Dutch at Bombay and Ceylon (1643); but no result followed and its privileges likewise lapsed. In 1664 another effort was made, and three agents were sent to Persia to reside at Ispahan, Shiraz, and Bunder Abbas, while two envoys were accredited to the Court. These efforts were, however, productive of little result, and were chiefly felt by the enmity they excited among the Dutch against the eminent French travellers who are now to engage our attention.

The names of Tavernier, Daulier Deslandes and Thévenot fill the latter half of the seventeenth century. Tavernier enjoyed an exceptional reputation as a traveller and merchant throughout the whole of that period. He was born at Paris, in 1605, of a Protestant family, and began his wanderings at the early age of fifteen. At first he followed the profession of a soldier of fortune, but he soon exchanged that precarious calling for the more lucrative pursuit of a travelling jeweller. He visited the East altogether six times between the years 1632 and 1668. His chief dealings were with the Shah of Persia, but he also extended his travels to India, and he was the first Frenchman to visit the Court of the Great Mogul. He brought back jewels from the mines of Golconda and from the pearl fisheries of the Persian Gulf, and after having them polished and set in Paris, he sold them at greatly enhanced prices to Indian princes and to the Shah of Persia. He was the first to reveal the riches of the East to his countrymen, and he enjoyed the favour of Louis XIV., from whom he received a patent of nobility. It was on the occasion of his sixth and last journey to Persia, in 1664, that he was accompanied by Daulier Deslandes, a young artist who was included among his eight ‘serviteurs,’ and who passed the year with him.[37] Although travelling together in this manner for the sake of convenience, Daulier was in fact charged with a special mission on behalf of the French merchant company.[38] The two travellers left Ispahan in 1665 on their way to Bunder Abbas, and they seem on that occasion to have visited Persepolis together. Some days later they overtook M. de Thévenot at Bihry, in Lars (March 26) and the whole party proceeded to the coast. Tavernier went on to India, but Daulier and Thévenot returned to Persepolis (May 1665), and it was probably during this second visit that Daulier found time to make his investigations.[39] He published the account of his travels in 1673, and among the illustrations that adorn his book there is one of Persepolis or, as it is called, Tchelminar.[40] The engraving is vastly superior to anything that had yet appeared: indeed the fanciful and erroneous pictures given by Herbert and Mandelslo do not deserve to be put in comparison with it. We now for the first time obtain some idea of the real appearance of the ruins. The view is taken from the west, and shows correctly the peculiar features of the stairs, sunk into the wall of the terrace, and ascending in double flights parallel to it. We observe also the remarkable indentations in the formation of the platform, which Della Valle thought were designed for its defence. The four walls of the Porch, separated by the two columns, are intelligibly drawn, though their height is inadequate and the animals do not stand out with sufficient boldness. The fourfold ascent by single flights to the upper platform is clearly shown; and for the first time we find the Columnar Edifice of Xerxes correctly placed above. The still more elevated position of the Palace of Darius is plainly marked and its ruins fairly represented. The absurd appearance it presented in the drawings of Herbert and Mandelslo now finally disappears, and we obtain something like a correct view of the southern portion of the platform. Beyond the door and window frames of the Palace of Darius we observe to the south-east the ruins of the somewhat similar edifice of Xerxes. The latter is depicted upon a much higher elevation, and the western staircase leading to it comes too prominently into view. The east side of the platform is still indistinct. The Central Edifice and the Hall of the Hundred Columns are somewhat confused: the latter edifice appears erroneously placed upon the central platform. No adequate representation of the Tombs upon the hill is attempted. The description that accompanies the plate evinces much accurate observation. He treats the platform as divided into three different elevations, and in many places he observed that the rock itself was the foundation of the edifice. The first animal he met on the porch resembles an elephant; the others, looking east, have wings. Strangely enough he dismisses the sculptured stairs with a mere passing notice. He merely observes that the Columnar Edifice is reached by two single flights ‘whose sides are ornamented by bas-reliefs.’ Following Della Valle, he correctly divides the columns into a central group of thirty-six and porticoes on the three sides; but he was wrong in conjecturing that the front row consisted of only eight columns in two rows of four, and in supposing that they were intended to support idols. Only nineteen were then standing, but there were two in the Porch, and another in the plain five hundred paces from the platform. He noticed two others at a distance of three leagues ‘to the left.’ He observed that the columns of the central group have a double capital resembling those in the Porch, and have round bases. From this great ruin he ascended ten or twelve steps to the remains of some chambers, evidently the Palace of Darius. In front, he ‘saw the vestiges of several small columns,’ the first reference we have to the ruins of the Palace of Ochus. Turning towards the mountain, he came upon other chambers, apparently the Palace of Xerxes from the description of the steps descending abruptly to a lower platform. He also notes ‘a fine building with bas-reliefs,’ possibly the Hall of the Hundred Columns. He mentions the two sepulchres, where he observed a man with a bow sacrificing to an idol which resembles a satyr. He was unable to visit Naksh-i-Rustam. He was greatly impressed by the general effect produced by these ruins, and he considered them ‘one of the finest remains of antiquity.’ He dwelt especially upon the immense number of bas-reliefs; he estimated that there were at least two thousand, many of them only showing their heads above ground. In addition to the general view, he has drawn a few of the bas-reliefs, among others that of the man sacrificing to the satyr. Others represent the personage beneath the parasol, or fighting the lion. These sketches are insignificant in size and execution, but they are a great advance upon the preposterous attempts of his predecessors. He shows an inscription round an arch, but it is of a purely imaginative character; and he merely records the existence of letters ‘which no one can read,’ many of which, he adds, were gilt. He adopted the opinion of Père Raphael that the edifice was a Temple and erected by Assuerus, though he tells us that others maintain that it was the Palace of Darius.

A year after the publication of the ‘Beautés de la Perse’ a much more prosaic narrative appeared (1674), written by Daulier’s travelling companion, M. de Thévenot.[41] De Thévenot was born at Paris, in 1633. He found himself at an early age in possession of independent means, and he began his travels at nineteen. He first visited England, which seems to have been then regarded as the training ground where the traveller might be inured to the perils of foreign adventure (1652). He subsequently visited Holland and Germany, and he spent a few years in Italy. He had the advantage of meeting M. d’Herbelot at Rome, who afterwards gained a great reputation as a linguist and Orientalist. It may have been the incentive communicated from this source that determined Thévenot to visit the East and to devote himself to the acquisition of Eastern languages. The two friends planned a journey together, but at the last moment d’Herbelot was prevented from leaving. Thévenot left Rome in 1655, at the mature age of twenty-two, and passed a considerable time visiting the islands of the Mediterranean, Turkey, the Levant and Egypt.[42] After an absence of seven years, he returned to Paris and published an account of his journey, which appeared in 1664, in two volumes. He had taken pains to acquire several Oriental languages, Turkish, Arabic and Persian, and while staying in Paris, he devoted himself to the study of such sciences as were then within reach. The proof-sheets of his book were scarcely dry when he left for Persia (October 1663). His route lay by Aleppo to Mosul, which he reached about the end of July 1664. From thence he dropped down the Tigris to Bagdad, and struck across by Hamadan to Ispahan, where he arrived in October.[43] Here he remained the guest of Père Raphael till February 1665, when he took the opportunity of going to Bunder Abbas in the suite of Tavernier. The larger portion of the baggage mules were employed in carrying the merchandise of that enterprising traveller to the coast; but it does not appear that he himself joined the party till they were far on the road. They arrived at Bunder together, and here Thévenot was destined to meet with a severe disappointment. The French were at that time making an attempt to revive their East India Company, a step that roused the jealousy of the Dutch to such an extent that they positively refused to give him a passage. They wished to preserve the secrets of the trade entirely to themselves, and Thévenot feared that even if he were received on board, their patriotism might go to the length of imperilling his life.[44] At Bunder Abbas itself, where the Dutch had recently become completely the masters, he scarcely found himself safe. The only person he could trust was the agent of the English Company, who took him under his protection and gave out that he was an Englishman. He was compelled, therefore, to return to Shiraz, and it was on this occasion that he enjoyed the companionship of Daulier Deslandes. They visited the ruins of Persepolis, and Thévenot made copious notes of his impressions. In the autumn he made his way to Bassora, where he found a passage to India on board an Armenian vessel. He seems to have returned in the spring of 1667 in company with Tavernier.[45] On their way from Bunder Abbas they once more visited Persepolis, and upon this occasion they found Chardin there. Thus by a singular accident the three great travellers stood together among the historic ruins.[46] Thévenot died soon afterwards, at the early age of thirty-four, at Maiana, the ancient Atropatena, thirty leagues from Tauris (November 1667). Two volumes of his Travels, up to the time of his arrival at Surat, were published in 1674, and a third, on India, in 1684. A complete edition appeared in five volumes in 1689. Numerous others followed, and before the end of the century the work had been translated into English, Dutch and German.

It cannot be said that Thévenot’s description of Persepolis contributed much to the elucidation of the plan of the building. He, however, gives an accurate though somewhat complicated description of the double staircase. He explains for the first time the position of the animals on the pilasters of the Porch—their heads facing the front, and their half bodies in demi-ronde adorning the inside of the passage. He thought they were cut out of a single block, those facing the stairs representing elephants and the others griffins. He gives a fair account of the sculptured wall, which previous travellers had so frequently overlooked. He describes the projection in the centre, with a single stair at either end, and the single flights at each end of the terrace. They are, he says, almost entirely buried beneath rubbish, which may perhaps account for their having so frequently escaped observation. ‘Nevertheless one sees several figures on that portion of the wall of the terrace which is above ground.’ He noticed the combat—a lion and bull—and the three rows of bas-reliefs, representing, as he thought, a sacrifice or a triumph. He observed the various arms of the men, and the different animals, the sheep, oxen and dromedary, that figure in the procession. He conducts the reader up the stairs to the platform strewn with columns, some buried, some broken, and others marked only by their bases. Seventeen were then standing, and he conjectured that there were originally twelve rows of nine in each. He remarked the strange style of the capitals, and fancied they had been surmounted by statues, or perhaps by idols. He proceeds to the square building beyond, where he beheld ‘an old man followed by two valets,’ one holding a parasol and the other a crozier. But at this point his narrative becomes confused and we follow him with difficulty. In his description of the eastern part of the platform, however, he enumerates six distinct buildings, which appear to be formed by the ruins of the Great Hall of the Hundred Columns and those of the Central Edifice united. Although the description of the arrangement of these buildings is hopelessly confused, we obtain for the first time an adequate account of the remarkable bas-reliefs found among them. He describes the personage seated upon a chair of state, a staff or sceptre in his hand, while beneath him are three rows of figures, one over the other, with uplifted arms, supporting those above. The winged figure is, he says, an idol seated upon an arc, with the body passed through a ring. He found another similar piece of sculpture with three rows of figures among these ruins, and he also mentions the great bas-relief in the north door of the Hall, where the seated personage is elevated above five rows of figures, but he failed to notice that these were guards.[47] He divides the edifices on the platform into three rows of buildings one behind the other from west to east, the first two ‘rows’ containing, he says, each four buildings and the third five, of which the third is the largest, and we thus arrive at the thirteen buildings in all. His description of the Tombs is more intelligible. They resemble, he says, the façade of a temple cut into the rock. Below are four columns with capitals representing the head and throat of an ox. In the centre is the entrance to the tombs. They support an architrave approaching to Doric in style, and ornamented by lions. Above are two rows of arcades composed of human figures about two feet in height. Over them, in the centre, is an idol, resembling a winged man. On the right is a person praying, and to the left a pedestal surmounted by a globe. At either end is a portion of a round column with the head of a bull, and below, on each side of the second row are two men, one over the other, armed with pikes. It was impossible to gain access to this tomb, for it was full of water, but on entering the other to the south of it he found three sepulchres cut into the rock like the basins of a fountain. In the centre of the cave is a slab that appears to cover a tomb. Beyond the platform, to the south, he observed a single column still standing, and to the north the ruins of a porch. On his way to Naksh-i-Rustam, he observed on his right hand another column standing. He was inclined to believe that Chehel Minar had been a temple, for it is evident the buildings have never been roofed, and the site itself was not large enough for a palace.[48] Finally, he apologises for the confusion in which part of his narrative is involved, and protests, probably with truth, that if he had added anything more to his description he might only have increased its obscurity.

Two years later, Tavernier added his contribution to the subject[49] (1676). Although he seems, as we have said, to have visited Persepolis along with Daulier, in March 1665, yet he was evidently but little influenced by his opinion. He had seen the ruins several times, and his judgment on the subject had been no doubt already formed. He tells us that on the occasion of one of his visits he was accompanied by an artist named Angel, a Dutchman, who, it appears, was commissioned by Abbas II. to make drawings of the ruins; and the estimates they formed are in striking contrast to those of Daulier. Tavernier was too much concerned with practical affairs to be greatly interested in antiquarian research; and his eye, trained to dwell on the minute beauty of the precious stones, saw little to admire in colossal mounds of chiselled marble. Nor was the prosaic Dutchman who accompanied him more susceptible to this form of beauty. Angel spent eight days in making drawings of the various ruins, and in the end expressed regret that he had wasted so much of his time. As for Tavernier, he declared he did not consider them worth the labour of a quarter of an hour. The bas-reliefs seemed to him to be wretchedly executed, and he could only recollect to have counted twelve columns.

Shortly afterwards there appeared a book by Jean Struys, a Dutchman, whom Sir W. Ouseley rightly styles ‘the lying traveller.’[50] In it there is an engraving of what is called the ‘Tomb of Persepolis,’ which is such a grotesque misrepresentation that we can scarcely believe even Struys responsible for the vagaries of the artist he employed. He observed that the number of columns had been reduced to eighteen, and he estimated their height at thirty-eight feet. He was especially struck by the beauty of the staircase; and he was the first to make the correct suggestion that the animals guarding the porch were lions. He noted the numerous bas-reliefs whose beauty had not yet been effaced by time; but he fancied he saw battle scenes depicted among them. He thought the cuneiform ‘characters strangely resembled the Arabian, though no one has yet been able to decipher them.’[51]

An agent of the East India Company, Mr. S. Flower, made a collection of various inscriptions, and among others of ‘one consisting of two lines in the nail character, or pyramidal shape, such as is impressed on some bricks lately found in the neighbouring countries.’ These appeared in the ‘Philosophical Transactions’ of 1693, and were reproduced by Dr. Hyde, who, quoting Flower, says that the characters are not found except at Persepolis, though some missionaries say they are known and in use in Egypt. He adds that they appear to be written from left to right. The inscription as copied in Hyde is punctuated after each letter,[52] and exhibits a miscellaneous collection of characters selected from the three descriptions of writing.

From what has been said it will be seen that down to the end of the seventeenth century, or a hundred years after the visit of Gouvea to Persepolis, the chief authorities upon the subject were still Don Garcia and Della Valle. Herbert perhaps enjoyed a wider popularity, but so far as his account was correct he depended chiefly upon other writers. The description given by Mandelslo and Daulier added little to the knowledge already acquired. Mere verbal descriptions, however, even by the most graphic writer, could never convey so vivid an impression to the mind as a pictorial representation. The drawings made by Don Garcia were not reproduced by his translators, and if they enriched the original Spanish edition, that work is so little known, that it has not even yet found its way to the British Museum. The drawings of Della Valle had not then[53] and, we believe, have never since been published. Mandelslo gave a tolerable drawing of the tomb at Murgab; but his view of Persepolis is little better than the plates in the earlier editions of Herbert. The English translator omitted them, and it is little likely that a book written in German and published in the remote town of Schleswig ever enjoyed a wide circulation. The engraving given by Herbert, even in his latest edition, is still grossly incorrect. It was executed by an artist who had never visited the spot, and Herbert was himself entirely unable to convey a true idea of the appearance and position of the different ruins. Daulier Deslandes at length made a great advance upon all his predecessors, and placed the student in a position to form a tolerable conception of the general aspect of the buildings.

Still less progress had yet been made towards the reproduction of the cuneiform letters. Della Valle had given five of the characters in the Italian edition of his Travels, but his French translators omitted them. Herbert contributed three lines; Daulier gave a short inscription taken from an arch; and Flower had quite recently increased the available material by two lines. They were all very imperfectly copied, but it was known that large numbers of similar inscriptions appeared in various parts of the ruins. Dr. Hyde, the learned Orientalist, concluded that they were not letters at all, but simply designed as ornamentation. He entirely repudiated the suggestion, which was already current, that they had any resemblance to Chinese.[54] He went so far as to upbraid the artist for having been the cause of so much torment to critics and men of learning. The whole matter was, he declared, beneath his notice, and he would not have alluded to it if he had not feared that his silence might be misconstrued.[55]