The boundaries of the Assyrian monarchy, like that of every other long-established empire, fluctuated from age to age. At the epoch of its greatest power, it appears to have maintained an ascendancy over Persia and Media, and from thence westwards to the shores of the Levant; while it is indisputable that its rule was for long dominant in Asia Minor, where towns were built and colonies founded by the Assyrian monarchs,—Troy itself, according to Plato, having been one of their dependencies. The prowess of the Assyrian armies in later times made itself felt even in Egypt; but in the wars between these two great antagonists, there is reason to believe that the balance of success lay chiefly with the Egyptians. It would appear that for a considerable period, between the 14th and 9th centuries B.C., a close connection, either by conquest or friendly intercourse, existed between these two empires,—which connection produced considerable changes in the arts and customs of Assyria, as may be witnessed in the introduction of the sitting sphinxes of Nimroud, and the lotus-shaped ornaments of Khorsabad and Kouyunjik. On the earliest monuments of Nineveh we read of expeditions undertaken against Babylon, which city was at first unquestionably independent of the Assyrian princes, but which ere long became subject to them—wearing their chains, however, unwillingly, and occasionally in name rather than in fact. When the Medes revolted under Arbaces, the governor of Babylon took part with the rebels, and in alliance with them succeeded in capturing Nineveh, and destroying its public buildings—if not depopulating it. Under the new or later dynasty, however—which counts in its brief roll the great names of Sargon and Sennacherib—Nineveh rose in renewed splendour and power: the palaces of Kouyunjik, Karamles, and Khorsabad were built, the last of which excelled all its predecessors in magnificence; and the city attained those vast dimensions described by Diodorus and the prophet Jonah. But the days of this great city and ancient empire were fast drawing to a close. Headed by Cyaxares and Nabopolassar, the combined armies of the Persians and Babylonians again approached its walls; and after a protracted siege of nearly three years, they at length (606 B.C.) captured the city at a time when the river had overflowed its bed and carried away a portion of the wall. The city was then utterly destroyed—the torch was put to its noble palaces, and its inhabitants were compulsorily distributed among the adjoining towns and villages. Nineveh was no more. Twelve centuries afterwards (A.D. 627), the great battle between Heraclius and Rhazates was fought within the space once compassed by its walls. “The city, and even the ruins of the city,” says Gibbon, “had long ago disappeared: the vacant space afforded a spacious field for the operations of the two armies.”
The primitive religion of the Assyrians appears to have been a form of Sabæanism. It appears to have consisted in the worship of the sun—not as the Deity, but as an emblem of the Deity—as the greatest, most glorious, and most beneficent of His works in the eye of man, and the mystery of whose unbeholdable splendours not unaptly symbolised the presence of Him “who dwelleth in light that is inaccessible and full of glory.” But the peculiar part of the Chaldean faith or philosophy was the influence which it ascribed to the planets over the life and fortunes of men. The belief in astrology is one of the oldest, if not absolutely the very oldest, which one meets with in the history of postdiluvian mankind. It was not confined to any one nation, or any one era of the world. It has lived from the earliest times, down through several thousand years, to the middle ages of Europe, and still lingers even at the present day. To take the last spots in the world where one is likely to find old-world notions lingering—“Raphaels” and “Zadkiels” are to be found even in the capitals of England and France, where astrological almanacs are at this moment yearly published, containing predictions of the future—one of which modern Magi boasts that he correctly predicted the death of the “hero of Waterloo,” and both of whom, we believe, prophesied two years ago that 1854 is to be the death-year of Louis Napoleon! But the East is the native land of astrology; and there, to this day, it is believed in as firmly as if it belonged to the domain of the positive sciences. It is curious to know that one of the causes of the disastrous issue of the last battle (August 5) between the Turks and Russians in Asia, was the obstinate adhesion of the Turkish general to an astrological crotchet. The Russians had detached a division of their army to Bayazid, where they surprised and defeated a Turkish corps; but no sooner did General Guyon learn of this movement, than he counselled the Turkish commander, Zarif Pasha, immediately to advance and attack the main body of the Russians while thus weakened. The Pasha, however, while assenting to the plan, would not move at the time required, alleging that neither that day nor the morrow would do for the attack, “because the stars were unpropitious.” Eight-and-forty hours were thus lost, big with the fortunes of the campaign; and the consequence was, that when the Turks did at last advance, they found not only that the Russian detachment had rejoined the main body, but that the Russian general had been fully apprised by his spies of the meditated night-march of his enemies.
We have not space here to undertake an investigation of the old Chaldean faith, nor to point out the principles in human nature by a rash reasoning upon which astrology seems to have arisen. We would remark, however, that the convulsion which intervened between the fall of the first Assyrian dynasty and the rise of the second, occasioned, or was at least accompanied by, a change in the State-religion of the country. In the palaces at Khorsabad and Kouyunjik, built by the second dynasty, we find no traces of the religious emblems so frequent in the sculptures of the earliest palaces at Nimroud. The emblem of the great Divinity—the winged figure within the circle—has never been found in the later-built palaces; and from the frequent representations of the fire-altar in the bas-reliefs from those ruins, and on cylinders, evidently of the same period, there is reason to believe that a fire-worship, like that introduced by Zoroaster among the Persians, had succeeded to the purer forms of Sabæanism. Although eagle-headed figures, and other mythic forms, exist in the earliest sculptures at Nineveh, in no case do they appear to have been objects of worship. The king is only seen in adoration before one symbol of the Deity—the figure of which we have already spoken, with the wings and tail of a bird enclosed in a circle, resembling the Ormuzd of the Persian monuments. He is generally standing or kneeling beneath this circled figure with his hand raised in sign of prayer or adoration. This symbol of the Deity is never represented above any person of inferior rank, but appears to watch specially over the king—who among the Assyrians, as among all the old nations, was regarded as the type and representative of the nation. It is seen above him on all occasions, in the sculptures, sympathising with and assisting him, like a good Providence. If it presides over a triumph, its action resembles that of the king; and when represented over the king in war, it is seen, like a god of battles, shooting its arrows against the enemies of the Assyrians. The most superficial examination of the sculptures suffices to prove the sacred character of the king. Not only is the symbol of the great Deity above him, as well as the sun, moon, and planets; but the priests, or lesser divinities (whichever the winged human figures so frequently found on the Assyrian monuments may be), are represented as waiting upon or ministering to him. This is just a development of the old patriarchal principle, by which a father used to worship on behalf of his family. At this day the principle is carried out to the fullest extent in China, where the “higher sacrifices” can only be offered by the Emperor in person, who actually regards himself as the father of the nation, and who, on occasion of national calamities, fasts and makes public confession of his sins and shortcomings, looking upon them as the reason why the Divine wrath is poured out upon his people.
A marked difference is likewise observable in the style of ornamental art under the earlier and later dynasties. What principally distinguishes Assyrian from Egyptian sculpture is, that the former is entirely free from the angular mode of treatment so conspicuous in the latter. It is more florid, and altogether more advanced; but at the same time it must be said, that in regard to accuracy we incline to place greater estimation upon the portrait-sculpture of Egypt than upon that of Assyria. In the later monuments of Nineveh we find direct, although not very extensive, traces of Egyptian influence; but the principal distinction between the earlier and later sculptures is, the greater knowledge of design and composition displayed in the former. The bas-relief representing the Lion-hunt, now in the British Museum, is a good illustration of the earliest school of Assyrian art yet discovered. It far exceeds the later sculptures in the vigour of treatment, the elegance of the forms, and in what the French aptly term mouvement,—as well as by the evident attempt at composition, the artistical arrangement of the groups. The sculptors who worked at Khorsabad and Kouyunjik perhaps possessed more skill in handling their tools, and their work is frequently superior to that of the earlier artists in delicacy of execution—as, for instance, in the details of the features—and in boldness of relief; but they are decidedly inferior to their ancestors in the higher branches of art—in the treatment of a subject, and in beauty and variety of form.
The domestic furniture, arms, utensils, and personal ornaments of the Assyrians show a very refined and cultivated taste. In their arms they rivalled even the Greeks in elegance of design. Their drinking-cups and vessels used on festive occasions were apparently of gold, like those of Solomon, or of silver; and they were frequently wrought into the shape of the head and neck of an animal—such as a lion or bull—and resembled those afterwards in use among the Greeks, and found in the tombs of Etruria. Their thrones, tables, and couches were made both of metal and wood; and the tables and chairs were frequently shaped like our camp-stools, and may have been made to close. On the earliest monuments, the chair is represented richly cushioned, with the seat and legs tastefully carved, but without a back,—in the later monuments the back is added, but the chairs exhibit less elegance. Indeed, in domestic and personal ornament, as in the higher branches of art, the most ancient Assyrian monuments greatly exceed the later. “Many forms had been preserved,” says Mr Layard, “as in the swords, bracelets, and armlets; but they had evidently degenerated, and are more coarsely designed in the sculptures. This is also evident in the embroideries of the robes, and in the details of the chariots. We see the same love of elaborate and profuse decoration, but not that elegance and variety so conspicuous in the ornaments of the first period. The kneeling bull or wild-goat, the graceful flower, and the groups of men and animals skilfully combined, are succeeded by a profusion of rosettes, circles, and squares, covering the whole surface of the dress, or the sides of the chariots. Although there is a certain richness of appearance, yet the classic forms, if the term may be used, of the earlier artists, are wanting.”
The materials at our command are as yet too scanty to enable us to arrive at definite conclusions as to the manners and private life of the Assyrians; but we do not doubt that future discoveries will yet supply the desideratum. Mr Layard says:—
“From casual notices in the Bible and in ancient history, we learn that the Assyrians, as well as those who succeeded them in the empire of Asia, were fond of public entertainments and festivities, and that they displayed on such occasions the greatest luxury and magnificence. The Assyrian king, called Nabuchodonosor in the book of Judith, on returning from his victorious expedition against Arphaxad, feasted with his whole army for one hundred and twenty days. The same is related by the Greek authors of Sardanapalus, after his great victory over the combined armies of the Medes. The Book of Esther describes the splendour of the festivals given by the Babylonian king. The princes and nobles of his vast dominions were feasted for one hundred and eighty days; and for one week all the people of Susa assembled in the gardens of his palace, and were served in vessels of gold. The richest tapestries adorned the halls and tents, and the most costly couches were prepared for the guests. Wine was served in abundance, and women, including even the wives and concubines of the monarch, were frequently present to add to the magnificence of the scene. According to Quintus Curtius, not only did hired female performers exhibit on these occasions, but the wives and daughters of the nobles, forgetting their modesty, danced before the guests, divesting themselves even of their garments. Wine was drunk immoderately. When Babylon was taken by the Persians, the inhabitants were celebrating one of their great festivals, and even the guards were intoxicated. The Babylonian king, ignorant of the approaching fate of his capital, and surrounded by one thousand of his princes and nobles, and by his wives and concubines, drank out of the golden vessels that had been carried away from the Jewish temple. On the walls of the palace at Khorsabad was a bas-relief representing a public feast, probably in celebration of a victory. Men were seen seated on high chairs with drinking-cups in their hands; whilst attendants were bringing in bowls, goblets, and various fruits and viands, for the banquet. At Nimroud part of a similar bas-relief was discovered. Music was not wanting on these occasions.”
The arts and civilisation of Nineveh represent those of Babylon also. Babylon, though it was long of attaining to the political greatness of her rival, was evidently an older city. It can hardly be doubted that it arose from the first gathering of mankind upon the plains of Shinar. From notices of it on Egyptian monuments of the time of Thothmes III., it is evident that it was a place of considerable note at least in the fifteenth century before Christ. Although for long politically overshadowed by her neighbour Nineveh, Babylon at an early period became famous for the extent and importance of her commerce. No position could then have been more favourable than hers for carrying on a trade with all the regions of the known world. She stood upon a navigable stream that brought to her quays the produce of the temperate highlands of Armenia—running westward in one part of its course to within a hundred miles of the Mediterranean, and emptying its waters into a gulf of the Indian Ocean. Parallel to this great river, and scarcely inferior to it in size, was the Tigris, flowing through the fertile plains of Assyria, and carrying their produce to the Babylonian cities. The inhabitants turned these natural advantages to the best account; and their industry and enterprise, cooperating with that of civilised people in the adjoining countries, greatly increased the means of locomotion. Highroads and causeways across the Desert connected Babylonia with Syria and Palestine. Fortified stations protected the merchant from the wandering tribes of Arabia,—walled cities served as resting-places and storehouses,—and wells at regular intervals gave an abundant supply of water during the hottest season of the year. One of those highways was carried through the centre of Mesopotamia, and, crossing the Euphrates near the town of Anthemusia, led into Central Asia;—a second appears to have left Babylon by the western quarter of the city, and entered Idumea, after passing through the country of the Nabathæans;—while others branched off to Tadmor, and to other cities built in the Desert almost solely for purposes of trade. To the east of Babylon was the celebrated military and commercial road described by Herodotus, leading from Sardis to Susa in ninety days’ journey, and furnished at intervals of about fifteen miles with stations and public hostelries, probably resembling the modern caravanserais of Persia. A very considerable trade was likewise carried on with India, through Media, Hyrcania, and the centre of Asia,—by which route it was, probably, that the greater part of the precious stones and gold were supplied to Babylon. A coasting trade existed along the shores of the Persian Gulf eastwards. The prophet Isaiah alludes to the ships of the Chaldeans; and we learn from the Kouyunjik inscriptions that the inhabitants of the country at the mouth of the Euphrates possessed vessels in which, when defeated by the Assyrians, they took refuge on the sea. It is difficult to determine to how far the Babylonians may have navigated the Indian Ocean; but of the merchandise in which they traded, the pearls, cotton, spices, precious stones, ivory, ebony, silks, and dyes, a large portion, if not the whole, must have been obtained from the southern coasts of Arabia, and from the Indian peninsula. Their exports consisted both of manufactures and of the natural produce of the country. Corn was cultivated to a great extent, and sent to distant provinces; and the Babylonian carpets, silks, and woollen fabrics, woven or embroidered with figures of mythic animals, and with exquisite designs, were not less famous for the beauty of their texture and workmanship, than for the richness and variety of their colours.
Babylon reached her zenith of power and magnificence immediately after the final destruction of Nineveh. Under Nebuchadnezzar she succeeded to the proud position so long held by her rival. The bounds of the city were extended; buildings of extraordinary size and magnificence were erected, and her victorious armies conquered Syria and Palestine, and penetrated into Egypt. But her greatness as an independent State was short-lived. The Medians and Persians, who had been the principal agents in the overthrow of the Assyrian empire, now united under one king, turned their warlike strength against their former ally Babylon; and scarcely half a century had elapsed from the fall of Nineveh, when “Belshazzar, the king of the Chaldeans, was slain, and Darius the Median took the kingdom.”
From that time Babylonia sank into a province of Persia—still retaining, however, much of its former power and trade; and, as we learn from the rock-inscriptions of Bisutun, as well as from ancient authors, struggling more than once to regain its independence. When Alexander the Great overthrew the Persian empire, Babylon opened its gates to him, and he deemed the city worthy to become the capital of his mighty empire. The early death of the conqueror, however, without leaving a successor, prevented his splendid projects being carried into execution; and the last blow to the prosperity of Babylon was given by Seleucus, when he laid the foundations of his new capital (Seleucia) on the banks of the Tigris (B.C. 322). Nevertheless, a considerable population seems to have lingered in the fast-decaying city; for, five centuries afterwards, we find the Parthian king Evemerus sending numerous families from Babylon into Media, to be sold as slaves, and burning many great and beautiful edifices which still remained standing. At the time of the Arab invasion, in the beginning of the seventh century, the ancient cities of Babylon were “a desolation, a dry land, and a wilderness.” Amidst the heaps that marked the site of Babylon herself, there rose the small town of Hillah, which, with its falling gateway, mean bazaar, and a few half-ruined mosques, still exists, as if in mockery of the power and splendour which in long-departed ages had there its abode.