The Siege of Damascus: a historical romance

Front matter

THE SIEGE OF DAMASCUS; A HISTORICAL ROMANCE. BV JAMES NISBET. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. Now, upon Stria's land of roses Softly the light of eve reposes, And, like a glory, the broad sun Hangs over sainted Lebanon ; Whose head in wintry grandeur towers, And whitens with eternal sleet, While summer, in a vale of flowers, Is sleeping rosy at his feet. Lalla Rookh. LONDON : JOHN CHAPMAN, 142, STRAND. MDCCOLI. PRINTED BV ' DX (BROTHERS) AND WYMAS, GREAT QIEEN STREET, LINCOLN'S-INN FIELDS.

Preface

. This work is founded on the story of Jonas and Eudocia, in Ockley 's " History of the Saracens." Long ago Gibbon, in the " Decline and Fall," made the tale better known to the learned ; and lately Washington Irving, in the " Successors of Mahomet," did the same to general readers. Ockley Js narrative was partly adopted in the play of " The Siege of Damascus" (first represented in 1720), which has been much praised by Gibbon in a note to the fifty-first chapter of his great History. He, however, says of the author, that " the foolish delicacy of the players compelled him to soften the guilt of the hero and the despair of

PREFACE.

. IV the heroine," which has produced only " a frigid catastrophe." Bearing Gibbon's criticism in mind, the original incidents have been nearly all preserved in the following pages. At the same time, of course, we have imagined other probable events at discretion. The legendary part of the story appears only in the third volume. We have, however, endeavoured slightly " to soften the gudt of the hero," not by altering the catastrophe, but by ascribing to him a peculiar character, and imputing some probable motives for his conduct. The natural conscience of mankind scorns the degraded wretch who would, contrary to moral conviction, change his religion. An artist could scarcely allow his hero to be so lowered, and we have, therefore, (considering the state of the times and the subtle nature of the Greeks), drawn Jonas as a sort of practical Idealist, who could discover latent good and truth in all things just as they were viewed.

In this he may be supposed to have anticipated some of the first principles of a modern German Rationalist. The attributed character may be the counterpart

PREFACE.

. V of the numerous portraits, in our own days, of doubters who are supposed all to end necessarily in Romanism. In the case of Jonas the superstition, the pretended infaUibibty, exclusiveness, and into lerance of the corrupted Christianity of his times (considered to be something like modern Papistry and Puseyism — that is, clergy versus laity — cant against common sense), are supposed to drive him to despair and idealism. He was, therefore, forced to make a religion for himself, as others in similar circumstances are often obliged to do. But there is, happily, a middle ground, which our hero in his passion did not see, and which genuine Pro testants are now endeavouring to occupy. It will not be imagined that the author per sonally adopts all the hero's phantasies. It is the essence of Idealism that there is nothing in existence but what the casual belief of the moment assumes.

Jonas himself is supposed to have been not always of the same way of thinking. In some passages where the unphUosophic reader may imagine that we seem to approve of his notions, it will be noticed that almost a lyrical form has been VI

PREFACE.

. given to the work. We may mention, for example, the fourth chapter of the second volume. There the interjectional style is occasionally used, to show that the sentiments expressed are meant solely to harmonize with the fancied ideas and feelings of the hero. The whole of the chapter named, and similar portions of the book, are intended merely to describe Jonas. On the same principle, the notices of the rise and wonderful progress of Mohammedanism, and of the Wahhabee Arabs, must be considered. The book is truly meant to be, what it is called, a Romance, and is therefore written in somewhat free language, where a bttle license of expression and latitude of thought are generaUy aUowed. We had nearly finished the work when the present noise was raised about Papistry, Puseyism, and so forth.

The natural progress of the tale had already led us to animadvert strongly upon what we considered the " mummeries of superstition," the alleged infaUibibty and exclusiveness of the first " Catholic" Church, and the general intolerance of most classes of religionists, whether

PREFACE.

. VII these were Moslem or Christian. We confess, however, that the modern occasion of applying the moral of our story was too tempting to be resisted ; and we may therefore offend different parties in our strictures. Some Papists, and perhaps Puseyites, may see only that we have attacked their supposed idolatrous ceremonies, forgetting that we help to fight their battle for the civil liberty of worshipping as they please. On the other hand, some professing Protestants may think that we condemn only their present intolerance, forgetting that we have endeavoured to defend the first and grandest principle of the glorious Reformation — the unrestricted right of private judgment, while we have also tried to bring the test of ridicule against superstition and idolatry. We hope, however, that many may be left to approve of the general cause we support — universal religious toleration, and even readily to pardon whatever, they individuaUy may think, has been somewhat strongly or indiscreetly said.

It was not by fine words, and arguing " by halves," that Luther — that prince of resolute polemics ! — saved us from the thraldom of Popish priests. If men

PREFACE.

. VIII wish to free themselves from priests of other classes, and legitimately extend the principles of the first Reformers — which will be the second, or New Reformation — they must not scruple to act like Luther.

Chapter I

Beside a handsome villa, situated on the brow of a gentle slope, and in one of those charming gardens which, twelve centuries ago (as from time immemo rial to the present day), surrounded the city of Damascus, there was gathered, when our story opens, a numerous company of gay and noble young men. On the closely-mown grass were placed luxurious couches and cushions of the richest stuff, upon which some of the youths indolently lay or half reclined ; while others stroUed carelessly about, among flowers and fragrant bushes, and under magnificently spread ing trees. Close by was a clear rivulet, which seemed rather to dance than merely flow through a pictu resque rocky channel. The sparkling stream gave additional freshness to the verdure. The gentle har mony of a hundred little cascades, which sometimes VOL. I. B died away or sweUed again as a bght breeze directed the sound towards the company, easUy suppbed the imaginative with a natural chorus to their varying thoughts.

Immediately below the rising ground lay a fertile and beautiful country. It was one grand and glorious garden, if it could not better be termed a forest (with occasional glades) from the height and dense ness of the vegetation. It extended many miles, — farther, indeed, than the eye could discover, till it reached the great Syrian desert. Over the fore ground of the scene were profusely scattered light open pavibons, daintily painted and decorated, to which the pleasure-loving citizens would often re pair to enjoy the beauty of the landscape. Swelbng brooks and fountains, the natural enchantment workers of hot countries, covered fields, orchards, and groves with tropical luxuriance. Innumerable fruit and timber trees, of every valuable kind, there grew, almost without cultivation. Flowers, the most perfect in shape and lovely in hue, everywhere scented the air with delicious odours.

There, it was said, the meadows were greener, the countless streams purer and sweeter, — the flowers, plants, and trees larger and finer, than in any other portion of the earth. The air, too, was softer, clearer, and more exhilarating; and the bghts of heaven — the moon and stars, the very sun itself, shone with a milder radiance. In short, it was believed by the happy natives, and always admitted by travellers from every country, that whatever could best please the senses, and refresh tired nature in a sultry climate, was to be found in perfection on the renowned plains of Damascus. At a short distance from the spot where the party reposed, and towards the south and east, rose the lofty walls of the city ; behind which towered innu merable pinnacles, brazen or gilded domes, and bat tlements, intermingled with the tops of cypresses, and other tall trees.

On the other side of the land scape were numerous romantic and diversified valleys. To form these, green hills were picturesquely heaped together, which gradually rose above each other till they terminated, at many miles' distance, in the barren and rocky ridges of Antilebanon, and the snow-crowned Mount Hermon. Such a scene, beneath an unclouded sky, might weU have been judged the nearest resemblance left on earth to the first Paradise, — if, indeed, as many supposed, it were not that very Paradise itself. Pison, Gihon, Hiddekel, and Euphrates, the four famous rivers which watered the garden of Eden, found fit representatives in branches of the Barrady. At the time of our tale, tradition pointed out (as indeed it still does) a place, in the immediate vicinity, where Cain was said to have got "very -wroth" with his b2 brother Abel, and slew him.

Many other legends of the most ancient times locaUzed in and around Damascus the first recorded events in Scripture. The season was summer, and the time evening. The youths who so gaily drank the coolest of delicious wines, and over them doubly enjoyed the sweetness of nature among sprightly comrades, were Greeks from the neighbouring city. They had been invited to sup with Alexis, the gayest and most dissipated, and, though stiU quite young, one of the richest men in all the province. After a splendid banquet within doors, the company had now retired to the fresh and cool lawn, to converse at ease and enjoy, in the open balmy air, the sweetest of fruits and wines with the greater zest. Not far from the party, but concealed from sight by intervening shrubs, was a band of skilful musi cians, who played and sang such bacchanalian and epicurean pieces as suited the temper of the hour.

Female attendants, distinguished by great beauty and grace, moved beside and among the guests. OccasionaUy, these females danced to the music in a brisk and fantastic manner; or, in slower, more graceful and expressive movements, reabzed what has been prettily termed the poetry of motion. At times, also, uniting in a general burst of exquisite harmony, they would repeat the burden of the mu sicians' song. The exceeding loveliness of these women was made more alluring by a thin and artful apology for dress, which fires the heart more by the ima<rina tion of what is heaving beneath than the actual sight of naked charms. But to all voluptuous races the contemplation of graceful female figures is as common and requisite as that of any other beautiful object in nature or art ; and while it tends to refine the taste, does not necessarily destroy the personal purity of the spectator, as the ascetic and frigid might suppose.

When wine has inflamed the imagination, music adds inexpressible force and sweetness to all our thoughts. Surrounding objects then seem to become instinct with life, and sympathize with our secret thoughts. The inanimate figures of art appear to start from the canvass, or rise from the pedestal, to mingle and act in the splendid visions of the imaginative. He, meanwhile, the waking dreamer, seems the centre, the creator, and conqueror of all, and sweUs in rapture with the triumphs of his fancy. The concealed musicians attempted, and not in vain, to give such transports to the guests. From among the former now proceeded a full, manly voice, sustained by the soft, melancholy tones of accom panying flutes, and thus it sang, — while, at the end of every verse, the dancers took up and repeated the concluding lines : — Seize the pleasures fate hath given ; Life is short, there's much to choose Here secure the distant heaven ; If deceived, the less we lose.

While we wake, life's harvest reap : Death may be eternal sleep. Wisdom holds the solid food, Hopes the shadowy paradise ; Still ensures so much of good, Though the future prove but lies. Men, be wise ; enjoy this hour, Lest the next elude your power. He's a God of Love that rules Earth and Air, and all therein ; Who neglect His gifts are fools, Not to take's the only sin. Tasting all, we praise Him best ; Worship, while we eat His feast. At the conclusion of the last verse the whole company, joining in one general chorus, as they gaily raised their wine-cups, sang : Tasting all, we praise Him best ; Worship, while we eat His feast. These sentiments and the scene itself, it must be confessed, may seem latitudinarian enough in the estimation of the rigidly righteous. But not always does youth look beyond the present moment.

With the senses nervously acute, and eager for enjoyment, and the hot, healthy blood continually urging the body into action, and firing the brain with innume rable fancies of glory and pleasure, the young are naturally apt to indulge in looseness of thought and conduct, nor can they weU distinguish between the proudly imagined deity in their own persons and the God of Nature. Presumptuously they are as gods unto themselves. When the failures of a lonoex perience have manifested the weakness of the flesh, and age — the forerunner of disease, pain, and death — has begun to calm the confident tumult in their veins, then men become bebeving and devout. Sick ness and distrust of themselves then teach the self denying rebgion, which, however it may be confessed with the bps, is seldom in the heart of daring, hopeful, healthy youth.

Yet the habitual indulgence in mere sensuous pleasures must be dearly paid for in the end. The luxurious, for those moments of extasy, spread over the few years of his youth, must endure a middle-age of chronic disease, pain, and unavailing repentance. The temperate people of his early days, in their green old age, remember him only as a foobsh volup tuary, who brought on, painfuUy and prematurely, his own death. It is a grand art — the human art of arts, to compress the utmost possible enjoyment into a long, healthy life. Our Syrians were bke other young men who may possess a sound constitution and abundant means wherewith to buy luxurious pleasures, which are affected to be despised chiefly by those whom poverty, a sour disposition by nature, sickness, the incapacity of growing years, avarice, or ever-toiling ambition, hinder from participating in.

But, how ever this be with others, the natives of northern cbmates, these youths were now enjoying all the delights which the scene and feast we have men tioned were calculated to stir within youthful fiery natures like theirs. They were Syrians of the seventh century, and, therefore, historically, one of the most licentious people in one of the most pro fligate periods of the Greek empire. The song and dance had proceeded for some time, when the master of the feast, earlier tired of such pleasures, because more used to them than his guests, broke the spell that had lulled these into the vague delicious reverie, which so many exqui site sights, sounds, perfumes, and potations had produced, by observing, " Psha ! this is tiresome. Come, my friends, who can devise something new ? Here all is light ; but the picture to be perfect requires shading.

The genuine Elysium itself will be insipid if it show only happiness. We must have a little labour, and some gentle pain, to diver sify sensation, and set off the glory of our plea sures." "Break your leg, then, or an arm," said the philosophical Horace, one of the guests. " The getting well again will be a pretty contrast to the delight of a whole limb." " That may not be a bad plan, in case of despe rate need," repbed the host. " But, unfortunately, idleness and luxury make us too lazy to be our own physicians. Yet, if something unpleasant were forced upon us, something quick and inevitable — fire, it may be, from heaven, or flood from the centre of earth — why, it could not only be cheerfully endured, but might be welcomed by every panting Sybarite like ourselves. As the suicide in thought courts death from every hand but his own, so might we pleasantly had a little annoyance, for variety's sake, though it is too much trouble to bring it voluntarily on ourselves."

" WeU, that is your opinion," said the practical Gratian. " If choice were left me, I would decid edly let matters remain as they are. We are well — at least I am ; and I see no good in trying experi ments. Changes are troublesome." " And expensive," remarked Horace, drily. " And expensive," repeated Gratian, no way dis concerted at the sneer. " But, if instead of costing money, the change filled your purse the fuller," said Alexis. b3 "Ah, that is quite another thing," replied Gratian. " Though we cannot certainly command new pleasures, we may desire them," said the host. " Let us drink to the pregnant future, and may opportunity be given for agreeable events to happen !" " War," suggested Rufinus, one of the guests. " Be it so," said Alexis. " Speedy war with somebody, no matter whom, and victory to Syria !"

"A rebeUion and dismemberment of the empire, if it need be ; but still success to onr beautiful Syria !" gaily cried the excited Horace. "Speedy war and success!" echoed aU, as they drained their cups. "Alexis, you are mad or foolish," said Gratian. " Why do you wish for war, who have everything to lose, but can gain nothing ?" " Your eyes," retorted the host, "are continuaUy bent on the shape and number of the tools, for getting the work to do. What is it to me if my tools, my wealth, be wasted when their work is done ? I gain pleasure, excitement, occupation, if I lose the price. What more would a reasonable king have ? But you, Gratian, you bkewise assented to the toast ; you, who are so much richer than your needs, if not than your desfres ! How was that V "Oh," replied Gratian, "because I had nothing else to do at the moment, and like good wine.

You took me by surprise." "I wish some one would take me by surprise," said Alexis. " I also am in want of something to do, not at this moment merely, but at all hours. I hke excitement, and must have it, cost what it may. Oh, this weary life of ease and stupid con tent, of wishes gratified without trouble, till there be no desire left, of the senses pleased till they be sick ! Truly, my friends, I feel myself but a miserable dog, after aU." " On the contrary, I think you should be a happy man," remarked one of the youngest of the com pany. " No occupation but the study of new amusements ! Beauty courting your enjoyment ! Woman " " Philo," interrupted Alexis, "you are a pretty fellow ; but sages have bristles on their chins. When you reach my years " "Hear the patriarch!" ironically shouted the guests.

" You will have learned that the same pleasures, too often tasted, soon disgust. AU women are alike, and every amour is but a repetition of the one that went before. To pass a life in loving as you would have me do, bah ! It is living on honey, which bees may manage, not men." " But gaming is some other help for the rich idle," added one. " And wine," cried another. " And music," said a third. " And learning, science, and art, cultivating the beautiful, doing good, and teaching philosophy," — said Horace, forgetting, for an instant, his present character of a good liver, who professes to despise the empty pleasures of mind, as he repeated at hap hazard a remark which was familiar to himself, but which the rest had only heard in the schools, and some had not yet forgotten. The dreaming Horace was foolish in the saying, as it only made his com panions the merrier.

" My science," said Alexis, "is enjoyment, my art is to vary it as much as possible, and my learning, to give names to the change. I seek to know nothing more ; for what there may be else is worthless to the creature of a few years. I find the beautiful in aU that you see here, and do good in having friends to eat my feasts. Finally, Horace, I am now teaching you true philosophy." " A Solomon! a Gamaliel!" were the cries which loudly applauded these observations. Alexis was a professed voluptuary, who held and thought no shame to express sentiments which are opposed to everything that is elevated in man's nature. The boon companions who so carelessly echoed his opinions, were by no means so debased as their host, yet they were bad enough. Ingenious in art, and subtle in thought beyond all other historical races, the Greeks at the period of our tale were sunk in effeminacy.

At this moment, a group of three or four persons, quickly advanced to where the others were regaling. " My good Jonas," cried Alexis to one of the new-comers, a tall and handsome man, who, when he smUed, looked perhaps not much more than twenty-four or twenty-six years of age, but whose thoughtful features in repose would have led a hasty gazer to think the party some years older, " Come along, I pray. Here am I kiUing myself with trying to kUl time, and thought I had truth surely on my side ; but aU wiU scarcely do. Say, Jonas, what is the great end of a wise man's life ? I know you have given the subject some study." " Pleasure, I suppose," replied the person thus addressed. " Not perhaps in the sensual meaning alone, but in a wider, philosophical sense." " And the best means to procure it are ? — " You ask too much, Alexis, for me to tell," said Jonas, smiling.

" As there are many men, the proverb says, so there are many minds. Some folks take to avarice, some to lust, to revenge some, to religion others. Each thinks his own road to felicity is the true and only one. Every man, in following the natural bent of his inclinations, means to seek personal pleasure, under whatever other name he may disguise the fact to himself or others. But, without prolonging this siUy discussion, I believe that a few of your cook's dishes, seasoned by appetite, a flagon of Falemian, pleasant companions, and, after a time, a sound sleep, make a very exceUent recipe that seldom fails." " Ah, Jonas ! " said the listless Alexis, with a sigh. " When we fought, side by side, against the Persian, and every day, for months together, ran joyfully into a thousand adventurous dangers, where our adversary required to be kiUed, if we ourselves would remain alive — then, indeed, a crust of bread and a cup of muddy water, your companionship, and short slumbers disturbed by constant alarms, were delights beyond expression.

But we shall never see such times again ! In vain I cry for war and occupation. The Persian is ruined, and has now neither money nor spirit left to contend for universal sovereignty. The very barbarians, to hunt whom used to give us sport among the Thracian hills, have retreated across the Danube before the victorious Heracbus. There is no longer need for us bold youth in the world ! " " Despair not," replied Jonas, with a smile. " I think there is a fair chance of employment still, and that perhaps before yon slender crescent be filled." "What! how? with whom?" exclaimed every one. "The Arabs" — began Jonas; but a burst of derision stopped his speech. " Those base Arabians!" cried Alexis, when calmness was restored. " They are not worth a thought, much less a struggle with. Feeble in body, iU-clad, and thieves by profession, they would scour away, faster than their own sands in a gale, from the very sight of a true Roman soldier.

Mean, lying, cheating robbers, they are all. I hear they have been marauding on the frontier, and have gained a few trifling advantages over some disorderly troops ; but the emperor has sent an additional legion or two against them, and doubtless, by this time, they are food for the vultures, or at the farthest extremity of their horrible country. We must have nobler enemies than those." "The Arabs!" sneeringly exclaimed Gratian, who, as the cat dreaming of mice, was continually thinking after his own groveUing, greedy nature. " What man of noble blood would fight with such a miserable, half-starved crew ? The Persian campaigns yielded a goodly harvest of gold and silver, of precious stones, rich stuffs, splendid arms, horses, and slaves. But the Arabian, sneaking and cunning as a fox, and as filthy carrion when caught, has neither riches, clothes, nor arms to tempt the soldier of fortune.

His solitary horse is either slain with the rider, or flies wildly back to the desert. Neither he himself, his wife nor children, if any of them by chance be taken prisoner, can be turned into a marketable slave. By heaven ! who would buy a wild Arab ! If he does not cut yonr throat as you sleep, he decamps when you least think of his escape. Pray, Jonas, find us a richer and worthier foe than the plundering beggar of the desert. For my part, and I care not who knows it, I honour and will readily fight a rich and noble adversary, where victory leaves a proper reward. But I despise the barren fame of exchanging blows for mere sport with any person, and especially with the vile hounds we talk of." " Be content, Alexis," replied Jonas. " You shall have a foe quite worthy of your prowess : and you, Gratian, one who, if not very rich, has at least something to lose, if it were only the spoils he has already won, or stolen from ourselves.

If these do not tempt you, stiU you may fight to preserve what you have. Sharpen your weapons, then, my bold feUows, there shall be need for them." "Listen," continued Jonas, as the company, aroused from their former apathy, now gathered closely around the speaker, and eagerly gazed on his eloquent countenance. " When, a few minutes ago, I loitered by yonder path, a messenger from the city hastily approached. Scarcely could he stay to inform me of his news. He was, he said, bound across the mountains for the sea-port towns to give the alarm of invasion, and from thence to Antioch to beg succour from the imperial forces. All was lost on the southern frontier, and Damascus was, even as he spoke, in the agonies of anticipated plunder. When in the midst of our conversation, some comrades drew near ; and my informant, refreshed with the short rest, rapidly pursued his way.

But he had mentioned enough. Let me tell you, friends, the empire, or at least Syria, is in extreme jeopardy again. We have been aU wrong in our calculations and ridicule of the Arabs. The legions have been utterly destroyed by a small band of these same half-naked sons of the desert, and the conquerors are now in full march towards Damascus itself. The fanaticism of a new religion has added enthusiasm to their natural creed ; and, on a sudden, from thieves, they have risen to the dignity and power of heroes." "How I long to be at them!" simultaneously cried Alexis and Horace, though perhaps from different motives. " That you may soon be," said Jonas. " There shaU be need for the strong arm of every man, or. I have no knowledge of human nature. To-morrow, it appears, a herald or ambassador — for these savages observe all the punctibos of honourable war — will submit to the governor three alternatives : — that we acknowledge their new religion, pay tribute, or let the sword decide between us."

" Pretty cool that !" interrupted the restless Rufinus. " The two first," continued Jonas, " are, I con fess, abundantly ridiculous at this early stage of the business ; but we shall have some trouble, I fear, in regard to the last. So, I tell you again, Alexis, Gratian, and the whole of you, we may prepare for the old game, profitable or the reverse as it may be, so soon as we like." "Excellent!" exclaimed the host. "By the bones of St. Stephen, you fire me with new bfe ! Boy ! " he cried, addressing a beautiful slave, who from time to time filled, from a golden vase, the emptied cups of the guests. " Replenish me here with unmixed wine ! Such tidings truly scorn water." As Alexis spoke, the slave handed his master a goblet filled with the purest Greek wine. " To the god of battles I devote this libation !" exclaimed Alexis, in the spirit of his Pagan an cestors, as he slowly and gracefully poured the gene rous liquid on the ground.