in the Ceramicus, because here they found the clay suitable for
their use. The so-called Theseum is 68.6 m. above the
sea-level; the present level at the Piræus railroad station,
54.9 m.; at the Dipylum (and here we are on the ancient level),
only 47.9 m. Out beyond the gate comes a long slope, extending
Page 79 till the Cephissus is reached, at an elevation of 21 m. So the
Dipylum is over 43 m. below the present level of the
theatre-precinct; and it is the lowest portion of the ancient
city. Here, therefore, in the northwest part of the city, is
where we should expect from the lay of the land and the nature
of the soil to find the marshes. Out in the open plain beyond
this quarter of the city to-day, after every heavy rain, the
water collects and renders the ground swampy. With the Dipylum
as a starting-point, there is no difficulty in supposing that,
in very ancient times, the Limnae extended to Colonus Agoraeus,
to the east into the hollow which became a portion of the agora
in the Ceramicus, and to the west into the depression between
Colonus Agoraeus and the Hill of the Nymphs. The exact extent
and character of the low ground in these two directions can
only be determined by excavating the ancient level, which, as
it appears to me, has not been reached by the deep new railroad
cutting running across this section north of the so-called
Theseum.
The excavations of Dr. Dörpfeld between Colonus Agoraeus and
the Areopagus, have shown that the ruins and the ancient street
at this point have been buried to a great depth by the débris
washed down from the Pnyx. Unfortunately, these diggings have
not been extensive enough to restore the topography of the west
and southwest slopes of Colonus Agoraeus.
We have abundant notices, besides those already given, of a
precinct or precincts of Dionysus in this section. Hesychius
speaks[187] of a house in Melite where the tragic actors
rehearsed. Photius repeats[188] the statement almost word for
word. Philostratus mentions[189] a council-house of the artists
near the gate of the Ceramicus. Pausanias (I. 2. 5), just after
entering the city, sees within one of the stoas the house of
Poulytion which was dedicated to Dionysus Melpomenus. He speaks
next of a precinct with various [Greek: agalmata], and among
them the face of the demon of unmixed wine, Cratus. Beyond this
precinct was a building with images of clay, representing, among
Page 80 other scenes, Pegasus, who brought the worship of Dionysus to
Athens. This building also was plainly devoted to the cult of
the wine-god. In fact, the most venerable traditions in Athens,
with reference to Dionysus, centre here. All the various
representations here are connected with the oldest legends.
Pausanias (I. 3. 1.) says that the Ceramicus had its very name
from Ceramus, a son of Dionysus and Ariadne.
[Footnote 187: HESYCH. [Greek: Meliteôn oikos].]
[Footnote 188: PHOTIUS. [Greek: Meliteôn oikos].]
[Footnote 189: PHILOST. _Vit. Soph._ p. 251.]
We have already seen that an orchestra was first established in
the agora. Timæus adds[190] that this was a conspicuous place
where were the statues of Harmodius and Aristogiton, which we
know to have stood in the agora.
The scholiast to the _De Corona_ of Demosthenes[191] says that
the "hieron" of Calamites, an eponymous hero, was close to the
Lenaeum. Hesychius words this statement differently, saying
that [the statue of] the hero himself was near the Lenaeum. We
know that the statues of eponymous heroes were set up in the
agora. Here again the new Aristotle manuscript comes to our
support, telling us (_Pol_. c. 3) that the nine archons did not
occupy the same building, but that the Basileus had the
Bucoleum, near the Prytaneum, and that the meeting and marriage
of the Basileus' wife with Dionysus still took place there in
his time. That the Bucoleum must be on the agora, and that the
marriage took place in Limnaean-Lenaean territory, have long
been accepted. The location of the Limnae to the northwest at
the Acropolis must thus be considered as settled.
Dr. Dörpfeld maintains that the ancient orchestra and the later
Agrippeum theatre near by, mentioned by Philostratus,[192] lay
in the depression between the Pnyx and the Hill of the Nymphs,
but considerably above the foot of the declivity.
[Footnote 190: TIM. _Lex. Plat._]
[Footnote 191: DEMOS, de Corona, 129, scholium.]
[Footnote 192: PHILOSTRATUS, _Vit. Soph._, p. 247.]
From the passage of the _Neaera_ quoted above we know that the
old orchestra could not have been in the sacred precinct of
Dionysus Limnaeus, for this was opened but once in every year,
on the 12th of Anthesterio,[193] while the Chytri and therefore
[Greek: o epi Lenaiô] were held on the following day. This
involves too that the Pithoigia as well as the "contests at the
Page 81 Lenaeum" could not have been celebrated in the sanctuary [Greek:
en Limnais], though portions of each of these divisions of the
Anthesteria were held in the Lenaeum, which contained the
Limnaea _hieron_.
[Footnote 193: See also THUCYDIDES above.]
The Lenaeum must lie [Greek: en Limnais], and therefore on the
low ground. A passage in Isæus (8. 35) is authority that the
sanctuary of Dionysus [Greek: en Limnais] was [Greek: en astei];
_i.e._, within the Themistoclean walls. So we have it located
within narrow limits, somewhere in the space bounded on the east
by the eastern limit of the agora in Ceramicus, south by the
Areopagus, west by the Pnyx and the Hill of the Nymphs, and
north by the Dipylum.
From the neighborhood of the Dionysiac foundations and
allusions mentioned by Pausanias immediately upon entering the
city, we may be justified in locating this ancient cult of
Dionysus [Greek: en Limnais] still more exactly, and placing it
somewhere on or at the foot of the southwestern slope of
Colonus Agoraeus. More precise evidence of its site we may
obtain from future excavation: though as this region lay
outside the Byzantine city-walls, the ruins may have been more
or less completely swept away.
In view of its position outside of the gate of the ancient
Pelasgic city, by the wine-press, we understand why the contest
in the Lenaeum was called a contest [Greek: kat agrous]. Because
enclosed later within the walls of Themistocles, the Limnae
were also referred to as [Greek: en astei]. Situated as they
were in the territory of the agora, we see why, although the
Archon Eponymus directed the City Dionysia, the Archon Basileus
presided[194] over the Anthesteria, and therefore over "the
contest at the Lenaeum"; and the agoranomi, the superintendents
of the market-place, whose duties were confined to the agora,
[Greek: epetelesan tous chutrous].[195]
[Footnote 194: POLLUX VIII. 89, 90. (ARISTOT. [Greek: Athes
Politeia].)]
[Footnote 195: MOMMSEN, _Heortologie_, p. 352 note.]
In closing, it may not be without interest to review the
picture presented of the most ancient Athens. Behind the
nine-gated Pelasgic fortifications lay the city, with its
temples, its palace, "the goodly house of Erechtheus," and its
dwellings for the people, remains of which can even now be seen
within the Pelasgicum. Immediately without the gate stood the
Pythium, the Olympieum, the temple of Ge _Kourotrophos_, and
Page 82 other foundations. Directly before the entrance, some two
hundred paces from the city-walls, was the spring Enneacrounus,
whose water was most esteemed by the citizens. Not far from
this was the wine-press. Here the people built the first altar,
the first temple, the first orchestra, and instituted the first
festival in honor of the wine-god, long before the new
Dionysian cult was brought in from Eleutherae; and here for
centuries were raised every year about the orchestra tiers of
wooden seats in preparation for the annual dramatic contests.
JOHN PICKARD,
American School of Classical Studies,
Athens, 1891.
Page 83
CORRESPONDENCE.
HUNTING DELLA ROBBIA MONUMENTS IN ITALY.
_To the Managing Editor of the American Journal of Archæology:_
_Dear Sir_: Having made a special study of the altarpiece by
Andrea Delia Robbia in the Metropolitan Museum, New York, my
desire was aroused to examine all the glazed terracotta
sculptures of the Delia Robbia school, which form such an
important part of Italian Renaissance sculpture. So I sailed
for Italy on the 6th of last May, taking with me a good camera
and a sufficient number of celluloid films, knowing beforehand
that there were many of these monuments which had never been
photographed and were consequently imperfectly known. An
investigation of this character, which takes one over the
mountains and into the valleys, from one end of Italy to the
other, may well be described as a hunting expedition; and,
though requiring severe labor and constant sacrifices, has in
it a considerable element of sport. Although Dr. Bode, of
Berlin in various writings has shown a more discriminating
knowledge of this subject than other writers, nevertheless the
work of Cavallucci and Molinier, _Les Della Robbia_, was more
useful to me as a guide and starter. They had catalogued as
many as 350 of these monuments in Italy, and briefly described
them. But their attributions were uncertain. Prof. Cavallucci
told me in Florence that unless he had a document in hand
indicating the authorship of a monument he felt great
hesitation in making attributions. And I could see, the more I
studied his work, that he considered it more important to
discover documents than to observe monuments. Here then was a
great opportunity to see a large series of monuments, to
compare them and allow them to tell their own story in regard
to their origin. Having with the aid of geographical
dictionaries and government maps located these 350 monuments, I
made up my mind to see as many of them as possible. This was no
easy task, as they were widely distributed and, as I
progressed, the number of uncatalogued monuments constantly
increased. I can give here but a bare outline of my trip.
Starting at Genoa, I went to Massa and Pisa and Lucca; from
Lucca following the valley of the Serchio as far north as
Page 84 Castelnuovo. Here I found a fine series of unphotographed
monuments, and began to learn that works of the same author and
period are very likely to be found in neighboring towns,
especially when lying along a valley. Similarly, starting from
Pracchia above Pistoia I studied another series of
unphotographed monuments at Gavinana, Lizano and Cutigliano.
These monuments may prove to be of importance in solving the
problem of the authorship of the celebrated Pistoian frieze.
At Prato the monuments of this class have been photographed,
and are well known. Florence and its immediate surroundings
contain the most important works of Luca and of Giovanni Delia
Robbia, but is very poor in examples of Andrea Delia Robbia.
Hence the Florentines have a very inadequate notion of Andrea's
work, which must be studied at Arezzo, La Verna, Prato, Siena
and Viterbo. At Florence I was fortunate enough to find an
unpublished document ascribing one of the medallions at Or San
Michele to Luca Delia Robbia. Two of these medallions by the
elder Luca had never been photographed before, but have now
been taken by Alinari. So far as I know, the monuments at
Impruneta, ten miles from Florence, are unknown to students of
this subject. Three of them have been photographed by Brogi,
who gives no attributions. They are not mentioned by Cavallucci
nor by Dr. Bode; yet they are amongst the very finest works by
Luca Delia Robbia. In the private collection of the Marquis
Frescobaldi I recognized a fine Luca Delia Robbia, and in that
of the Marquis Antinori an excellent example of Giovanni's
work. Less important discoveries made in this region are too
numerous to mention. At Empoli, not many miles from Florence,
are several uncatalogued monuments and a fine example of a tile
pavement, which I identified as Delia Robbia work. I then
visited Poggibonsi and Volterra and Siena, and satisfied myself
that the beautiful coronation of the Virgin at the Osservanza
outside Siena is a chef-d'oeuvre of Andrea Delia Robbia. From
Asciano I visited Monte San Savino, Lucignano and Foiano and
took photographs of some fine, unrecognized works of Andrea
Delia Robbia. Another starting point was Montepulciano for a
long drive to Radicofani, a weird Etruscan site, whose churches
contained half a dozen unphotographed Delia Robbias, then to S.
Fiora, whose monuments have a greater reputation than they
deserve, to S. Antimo, a fine Cistercian ruin, and Montalcino.
At Perugia I photographed the monuments of Benedetto Buglione,
thus laying the basis for a study of his works, a number of
which may now be identified. In the case of his pupil, Santi
Buglione, I was less successful, as the chapel at Croce
dell'Alpe, which contained two authenticated altarpieces of his
Page 85 seems to have disappeared, not only from sight, but from the
memory of the inhabitants of the neighborhood. So the
reconstruction of his style involves a wider stretch of the
scientific imagination. At Acquapendente I found a unique
glazed terracotta altar signed by Jacopo Benevento, at Bolsena
took the first photograph of several monuments, and at Viterbo
had photographs made of the important lunettes by Andrea Delia
Robbia. At Rome I penetrated the mysteries of the Vatican and
discovered there a signed monument by Fra Lucas, son of Andrea
Delia Robbia, and found in the Industrial Museum several
monuments, which I identified as by the same author. Hitherto
Fra Lucas has been known only as the maker of tile pavements.
At Montecassiano there is a large monument concerning which a
document has been published in many Italian journals, ascribing
the authorship to Fra Mattia Delia Robbia. This has been
published from a drawing, and my photograph is the first taken
from the original monument. On the basis of a very imperfect
acquaintance with his style, other monuments are being freely
attributed to Fra Mattia. In the Marche there is a series of
terracotta altarpieces attributed to Pietro Paolo Agabiti, a
local painter of the XVI century. These attributions are purely
hypothetical, and the hypothesis that Fra Mattia might have
been their author is now being tested by local archaeologists.
I travelled over a large portion of this province, seeing some
important monuments, but without making discoveries of
importance. Umbria in general proved even less fruitful, the
terracotta monuments being of poor quality and showing little
or no Delia Robbia influence.
A very interesting region comprises Città di Castello, Borgo
San Sepolcro, Arezzo and the Casentino. Here Andrea Delia
Robbia left his impress strongly marked, especially in the very
beautiful altarpieces at La Verna. As we approach Florence we
find more by Giovanni and his school, especially noteworthy
being the monuments at Galatrona and San Giovanni.
When obliged to return home there remained very few known Delia
Robbia monuments in Italy which I had not visited; almost
everywhere I found more than had been already catalogued, and
my collection of photographs of these monuments is undoubtedly
the most complete in existence. Already considerable knowledge
has been gained of the differences of style, which
characterized the various members of the school, as I hope to
show in a series of articles for the _American Journal of
Archæology_. In order to complete this work I shall still have
to hunt further in the museums and private collections of
Spain, Portugal, France, England, Germany and Austria. There
are a few Delia Robbia monuments in this country, of which one
Page 86 is in Princeton, one in New York, one in Newport, R.I., and
several in Boston.
Beside the direct pleasures of the chase and the bagging of
game, there are many incidental pleasures in such a hunting
expedition.
One learns of the whereabouts of other monuments, acquires a
knowledge of the country, of the language, of the people and of
all the local surroundings that help explain to us the
significance of the past.
Yours sincerely,
ALLAN MARQUAND.
Guernsey Hall, Princeton, N.J., Dec, 27, 1892.
Page 87
REVIEWS AND NOTICES OF BOOKS.
MAXIME COLLIGNON. _Histoire de la Sculpture Grecque._ Tome I.
Firmin-Didot et Cie. Paris, 1892.
This is the first volume of what is likely to prove for some
time to come the best general history of Greek sculpture. The
personal inspection of monuments made during his connection
with the French school at Athens, and his training as a
lecturer at the Faculté des Lettres at Paris, have given M.
Collignon an admirable training for the production of this
book. We see in it also a hearty appreciation of more
specialized work. This is essentially a history from the
archæaeological standpoint, the monuments of Greek sculpture,
rather than written documents, being assumed as fundamental
material. In this respect he represents a more advanced stage
of archæological science than Overbeck. Again we feel in
reading the volume the constant assumption that the history of
Greek sculpture is a continuous evolution. Even when the
development is checked, as by the Dorian invasion, the element
of continuity is emphasized. The Dorians construct new forms
out of the elements which they find already established in
Greece. Thus the connecting links evincing the continuous flow,
are not lost sight of when he comes to treat of the different
schools. This regard for the general conditions of development
tempers his judgment and prevents him from formulating or
approving of irrelevant and improbable hypotheses. This is an
admirable temper for one who writes a general history. We do
not find here remote analogies and startling theories. There is
an even flow to the narrative which indicates to us that the
knowledge of Greek sculpture is now more connected, and that
many gaps have been filled in the list during a few years. Yet
M. Collignon is not a literary trimmer, steering a middle
course between opposing theories. He merely seeks for near and
probable causes, and is not carried away by resemblances which
have little historical value. His method is fundamentally the
historical method, the four books which compose the first
volume treating of the Primitive Periods, Early Archaic, and
Advanced Archaic Periods, and The Great Masters of the V
century. It is unnecessary to give here the general analysis of
the book, as it does not differ essentially from other similar
Page 88 histories, but we may notice the systematic method with which
he treats his material. At the opening of each new period he
briefly notes the general historical conditions, then having
classed the monuments by schools he considers the
characteristics of a few representative examples, and finally
endeavors to summarize the style of the school or period. In
doing this he is handling considerable new material which has
not yet found its way into general histories. Even to
specialists, this general treatment of a subject with which
they may be familiar in detail, is valuable. The book is a
summary and index to a large number of monographs scattered in
French, German, Greek and English periodicals, and we find it
much more convenient to have these references at the foot of
each page rather than gathered together at the end of the
volume as in Mrs. Mitchell's excellent history. Of course it is
no easy matter to distinguish sharply the characteristics of
different schools in a country as small as Greece, where there
was so much interaction, and the formulas, which are laid down
now, may require correction in a few years. Still the attempt
is well made, and is helpful in consolidating our knowledge.
In a work of whose method we cordially approve, the defects, if
there be any, are likely to be in the way of omission of
material or under-valuation of that which is taken into
consideration. In the direction of omission we find that
practically no use whatever has been made of Cyprus as a school
of archaic Greek art, yet there is considerable material for
this in European museums as well as in the Metropolitan museum
in New York. In unduly estimating the value of the material in
hand, we find here and there more influence attributed to the
Phoenicians, than we should be inclined to allow. For example
(p. 43,) the ceiling at Orchomenos, is explained as Phoenician
because of the rosettes, and the same design upon Egyptian
ceilings at Thebes is explained as Phoenician also. Evidently
M. Collignon has not yet learned the grammar of the Egyptian
lotus. We commend him to Prof. Goodyear. He is also in error in
ascribing the first use of the term "lax-archaic" to Brunn's
article in the _Muth. Ath._ vii. p. 117, for it held an
important place in Semper's classification of Doric monuments
made three years earlier. But these are minor matters. The book
is abundantly illustrated, having twelve excellent plates in
lithograph and photogravure, and two hundred and seventy-eight
in the tone process and photoengraving. We regret that the tone
process had not been more extensively used, as the drawings do
not and cannot give a sufficiently full impression of the
objects. However, is it quite proper that the maker of a tone
process plate should sign it as is done here _Petit sculpsit_?
A.M.
Page 89
HEINRICH-BRUNN. _Griechische Götterideale in ihren Formen
erlüutert._ 8vo. pp. VIII, 110. München, Verlagsanstalt für
Kunst und Wissenschaft. 1892.
This is not a systematic treatise, but a series of nine papers,
all of which, except the last, have been already published. But
we are grateful to Dr. Brunn and to his publishers for having
collected these articles, which were scattered in various
periodicals and written at wide intervals of time. In their
present form they are instructive as revealing to us Dr.
Brunn's general habits of mind in approaching his subject, as
well as more useful and better adapted to a wide circle of
readers. The first of these articles on the Farnese Hera
appeared in the _Bullettino dell' Instituto_, in 1846, and is
described as the "first attempt at the analytical consideration
of the ideal of a Greek God," while the entire series may be
taken as evidence that "the intellectual understanding of ideal
artistic productions can be reached only on the basis of a
thorough analysis of form." For his analysis of sculptural
form, and his keen intuitions, Dr. Brunn has long been held in
high esteem, and it is interesting to learn what we can of his
methods. In considering the Hera head he first examined the
original, afterwards a cast of it for many hours, then compared
these impressions with observations made upon a human scull. In
doing this he brings the work of art to nature, so as to
substantiate or correct his impressions. We see him following
the same method in the articles upon the Medusa and upon
Asklepios. But this reference to nature is for the most part
casual and incidental. It is not to nature but to literature
that he resorts for help. He is not content to trust himself
entirely to the method enunciated in the preface. He does not
rest satisfied with the ideals as he reads them in the
sculptured faces. He rather assumes that these ideals were
fixed before they were expressed in marble. He looks at the
heads of Hera and Zeus through "ox-eyed" and "dark-browed"
glasses. He accepts the Divine ideal from the pages of Homer,
rather than from the marble form, whenever it is possible. His
mind is still imbued with doctrines concerning the "eternity of
ideas" and "inward necessity," which he must have reached in
some other way than by the analysis of external forms.