CHAPTER V. THE DECLINE AND FALL OF ASSYRIA
We have followed the fortunes of Assyria through several dynasties of clearest historical record. But, curiously enough, as we now proceed the landmarks disappear, and we enter a realm of myth, as if we were going backward instead of forward in time. Even while Asshurbanapal lives, the record becomes vague, and after him there is almost nothing securely known of its details. Even the names of his successors are somewhat in doubt. The only sure thing is the broad historical fact that the empire declined in power until it was completely overthrown by the Scythians and Babylonians about twenty years after the death of Asshurbanapal—the precise date of this closing scene being, like all other details of the epoch, more or less in doubt.
Our surprise at this cataclysmic overthrow is the greater in that we have just seen the Assyrian Empire at such a height of apparent power under Asshurbanapal. The palaces, libraries, and art treasures of that king as now known to us convey an irresistible impression of a powerful monarch. Yet it is held that the decline in Assyrian affairs had begun even during the life of Asshurbanapal.[a]
Professor Rogers has well summed up an impression as to the cause of this decline. After noting the glories of the reign in matters of literature, sciences, and art, and giving Asshurbanapal a full meed of praise as regards his attainment in this direction, Professor Rogers continues:
In war only had he failed. But by the sword the kingdom of Assyria had been founded, by the sword it had added kingdom unto kingdom until it had become a world-empire. By the sword it had cleared the way for the advance of its trader, and opened up to civilisation great territories, some of which, like Urartu, had even adopted its method of writing. It had held all the vast empire together by the sword, and not by beneficent and unselfish rule. Even unto this very reign barbaric treatment of men who yearned for liberty had been the rule and not the exception. That which had been founded by the sword and maintained by the sword would not survive if the sword lost its keenness or the arm which wielded it lost its strength or readiness. This had happened in the days of Asshurbanapal. He had conquered but little new territory, made scarcely any advance, as most of the kings who preceded him had done. He had not only not made distinct advances, he had actually beaten a retreat, and the empire was smaller. Worse even than this, he had weakened the borders which remained, and had not erected fortresses, as had Sargon and Esarhaddon and even Sennacherib, for the defence of the frontier against aggression. He had gained no new allies, and had shown no consideration or friendship for any people who might have been won to join hands with Assyria when the hour of struggle between the Semites and the Indo-Europeans should come. On the contrary, his brutality, singularly unsuited to his period and his position of growing weakness, his bloodthirstiness, his destructive raids into the territories of his neighbours, had increased the hatred of Assyria into a passion. All these things threatened the end of Assyrian prestige, if not the entire collapse of the empire.
The culture which Asshurbanapal had nurtured and disseminated was but a cloak to cover the nakedness of Assyrian savagery. It never became a part of the life of the people. It contributed not to national patriotism, but only to national enervation. Luxury had usurped the place of simplicity, and weakness had conquered strength. The most brilliant colour of all Assyrian history was only overlaid on the palace and temple walls. The shadows were growing long and deep, and the night of Assyria was approaching.[b]
Whatever our precise estimate of this criticism of Asshurbanapal, it is clear that the successors of that monarch were unable to sustain the traditions of their fathers. Assyriologists have recently restored to us the names of Bel-zakir-ishkun or Asshur-etil-ili, Sin-shar-ishkun, as the immediate successors of Asshurbanapal, the last named being the one who is believed to have been the occupant of the throne when the conquering hosts of Cyaxares finally razed Nineveh to the ground.
It may fairly be presumed that there exist somewhere among the yet unrecovered treasures of Mesopotamia, inscriptions giving more or less full accounts of the destruction of Nineveh. But be that as it may, no such inscription has yet come to light; at least none such has been deciphered. There is an abundance of material in the various museums of Europe and America that has not yet been fully investigated. The reading of inscriptions in the arrow-head script is an extremely difficult task; indeed, it has been claimed, perhaps half jestingly, by one of the greatest of living orientalists, that only four scholars in the world are competent to read securely Assyrian or Babylonian texts from the original clay tablet. Doubtless this is an exaggeration, but it is one full of suggestion as to the difficulties encountered by the would-be investigator of Mesopotamian history; and at the same time offering an explanation of the fact that so much material is awaiting its turn, and must long remain unpublished, notwithstanding the importance and interest of the historical secrets thus entombed. Possibly, as has been suggested, the story of the destruction of Nineveh may be among these secrets, but as to the validity of this surmise time must decide.