Searching for the Hanging Gardens of Babylon | Ancient Origins

Greek and Roman literature vividly describe the opulent Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Amidst the hot, arid terrain of ancient Babylon, rich vegetation cascaded like waterfalls down the terraces of the 75-foot-tall garden. Exotic plants, herbs, and flowers captivated the eyes, while fragrances drifted through the towering botanical oasis adorned with statues and tall stone columns.

The Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II supposedly built the luxurious Hanging Gardens in the sixth century B.C. as a tribute to his wife, Amytis, who longed for the lush vegetation and mountains of her native Media (now the northwestern part of Iran). To bring life to the desert, an intricate irrigation system would have been necessary. Scholars suggest that a network of pumps, waterwheels, and cisterns likely raised and transported water from the nearby Euphrates River to the garden’s summit.

The various Greek and Roman accounts of the Hanging Gardens, however, were indirect and written centuries after the wonder’s alleged demise. There were no firsthand testimonies, and archaeologists have long searched in vain for remnants of the gardens. Despite efforts by German archaeologists in the early 20th century, no traces of the ancient wonder have ever been uncovered. The absence of artifacts has led skeptics to question whether the legendary desert oasis was merely a “historical illusion.”

Nevertheless, Dr. Stephanie Dalley, an honorary research fellow at England’s Oxford University, believes she has uncovered evidence of the existence of the fabled Wonder of the Ancient World. In her forthcoming book, “The Mystery of the Hanging Garden of Babylon: An Elusive World Wonder Traced,” published by Oxford University Press, Dalley proposes that the Hanging Gardens were not built in Babylon as traditionally believed.

After nearly two decades of research and studying ancient cuneiform texts, Dalley contends that the gardens were erected 300 miles north of Babylon, in Nineveh, the capital of the rival Assyrian empire. She argues that it was the Assyrian king Sennacherib, not Nebuchadnezzar II, who constructed the marvel in the early seventh century B.C., a century earlier than previously thought.

According to Dalley’s findings, derived from new translations of ancient texts, King Sennacherib described his own “unparalleled palace” and a “spectacle for all nations.” He also mentioned a bronze water-raising screw, similar to Archimedes’ screw developed four centuries later, that could have been used for irrigation in the gardens.

Recent excavations near Nineveh, close to modern-day Mosul in Iraq, have revealed evidence of an extensive aqueduct system that supplied water from the mountains. Inscriptions discovered on the aqueduct indicated: “Sennacherib, king of the world… I had a watercourse directed to the vicinity of Nineveh over a great distance.” Bas-reliefs from the royal palace in Nineveh depicted a lush garden irrigated by an aqueduct, and the rugged terrain surrounding the Assyrian capital would have presented fewer logistical challenges for elevating water to the gardens than the flat landscape of Babylon.

Dalley suggests that the confusion over the garden’s location may stem from the Assyrian conquest of Babylon in 689 B.C. Following the conquest, Nineveh was often referred to as the “New Babylon,” and Sennacherib even renamed the city gates after those of Babylon. Dalley’s assertions may challenge the notion that the elusive ancient wonder was merely a “historical illusion,” and they could redefine the Hanging Gardens as the Hanging Gardens of Nineveh rather than Babylon.