peculiarities of situation which gave effect to the Roman buildings.
They occupied in many instances points of land advancing into the
general line of the valley of the Tiber. The spectator was in the
centre, the objects were round him. In Athens it was exactly the
reverse; the objects were grouped together on a hill in the centre,
which displayed its magnificence on every side. At Rome, the beholder
was dazzled by the multiplicity of objects. At Athens he was impressed
by their simplicity and unity, for, from every point of view, the public
edifices which crowded the summit, and were disposed on the slopes of
the Acropolis, would combine to form a single whole. In both nature and
art seemed to have united to produce an harmonious effect, and even in
the style of architecture, the richness and grandeur of the Roman, and
the grace and elegance of the Athenian, seem alike suited to the
disposition of the buildings, and the stations they occupied. It is
remarkable, that both these cities should have been so admirably placed.
Paris hardly offers a single marked situation; Naples would have been
better, had some of its principal edifices occupied the Chiatamone;
Milan is on a flat; Florence merely in a fine valley. London would be
preferable to any of these for the display of architecture, but we have
taken no advantage of the steep bank rising from the Thames, which,
though rather too low, would nevertheless afford admirable situations
for public buildings. The present circumstances of Athens and Rome are
no less strikingly opposed to each other than the situation and style of
architecture. Rome is adorned, and frequently incumbered with modern
magnificence; the Athenian ruins are either insulated or surrounded by
mere huts. At Rome the buildings are numerous, and very much decayed; at
Athens they are few, and much more perfect. Indeed, the mere lapse of
time seems to have had very little effect on those of the latter city.
Earthquakes have shaken, explosions have shattered, and avarice has
despoiled them, but a great deal of what remains, remains absolutely
perfect, except in the more delicate and exposed sculpture, and even of
the sculpture a considerable portion is as fresh as if it were only just
finished. The modern manners of Greece and Italy have introduced a style
of domestic architecture in the two cities completely different. In one
country each family inhabits a story, or perhaps only a suite of
apartments, and many families live consequently under the same roof. In
the other, such a system would be profanation: each family occupies its
own little house, shut out from the rest of the world by being placed in
a court, and instead of six or seven stories, as in Italy, we here
rarely find more than two. Nature seems to delight in adding to these
contrasts. At Rome the atmosphere is remarkably quiet; at Athens the
winds are frequent and impetuous. At Rome, on the contrary, the
recurrence of thunder-storms is frequent, and they are extremely
violent; at Athens, thunder is rare: but this remark is so very wide of
my subject, that it reminds me to return to it.
You will think I have said enough of the Acropolis, but I must still
take you round the outside of the walls, and we will notice a few
adjoining antiquities as we proceed. There is a sitting statue of early
Greek workmanship on the ascent to the Acropolis, and a beautiful, but
much injured capital of a peculiar style near the entrance; there is
also in the way up a fountain of brackish water, which is said to run
only in summer. A well within the Acropolis, the water of which is not
good, is perhaps connected with this. Beginning below the Propylæa, we
observe between that edifice and the lower modern battery, some ancient
piers built up in the present walls, which seem to announce the most
ancient access to the Acropolis, the materials and style of masonry are
like that which I have mentioned as existing under the north-west angle
of the Propylæa, and as being in all likelihood, prior to the age of
Pericles. Taking our course along the northern side of the hill, we meet
with the grotto of Pan; a hollow in the rock of no great extent, with
numerous square and circular recesses cut apparently for the reception
of votive tablets. At a little distance there is a vault descending from
the Acropolis, and some steps passing over part of it; these steps have
been thought to belong to the entrance of the original Acropolis, but
this is at best very doubtful, and I have no theory as to their probable
object or date. Proceeding farther, the rock is extremely uneven, both
in height and direction, and there are many hollows in it, but of no
considerable depth. Some of them appear to have had votive tablets, and
perhaps architectural ornaments. In the wall above, we see parts of an
enormous entablature; it is twice interrupted, but recurs again at the
same level, as if it were placed by design, and not accidentally. The
architrave, triglyphs, and cornice, are of limestone; but the metopes
are slabs of marble. Two theories have been made for this; one is
supported by M. Fauvel, who thinks it a portion of the regular finish of
the work. If so its size was proportioned, not to the mere height of the
wall, for in some places the space below this crowning is hardly more
than the height of the entablature itself, but to that of the rock and
wall together. The other theory takes into consideration what we are
told of the mode of erecting these walls after the Persian invasion,
when to avoid the effects of Lacedæmonian jealousy, they were
reconstructed in the greatest haste, and of any materials which first
came to hand, however previously employed. These fragments, therefore,
may either have belonged to the old temple of Minerva, or to that of
Jupiter Olympus, which was also a large edifice of the Doric order. I
should incline to Fauvel’s opinion, were it not that several marble
frusta of columns, a little farther on, which seem to correspond in size
with this entablature, give some additional weight to the latter theory.
These frusta are not finished; the circular shape is determined, and a
smoothed ring on the edge of each frustum marks the intended size of the
column, but the rest of the surface is rough, and the projections left
as means to lift them into their places still remain. Farther on there
are vestiges of very ancient walls below the foot of the rock, which may
be traced at intervals more than half round the Acropolis; at the east
end is a large cavern, which penetrates the rock to a considerable
extent: it seems to be formed by the destruction of a loose breccia,
which in some parts becomes a mere gravel. Turning round to the south
side we meet with several ancient foundations composed of large blocks
of Magnesian limestone. Just above the choragic monument of Thrasyllus,
there are two detached columns, with triangular capitals, ornamented
with leaves and volutes, but of little beauty; these are also
testimonials of the same sort with that monument, and have supported
tripods, as is shewn by the cramp-holes remaining at the top. In one of
them a statue has probably at some period taken the place of the tripod,
and the square pedestal placed on the abacus to receive it still
remains. Below this monument is a large hollow, which is supposed to
have contained the theatre of Bacchus, for it is now generally
acknowledged, that what Stuart has published under that name, is the
theatre of Herodes Atticus. The range of arches extending from the
hollow to the latter building seems a very mixed production, with no
very clear intimations of genuine antiquity. The Odeum, or theatre of
Herodes, is partly of brick, and partly of Magnesian limestone.
I shall not attempt to follow the order of place in the few remaining
remarks I have to make on Athenian antiquities.
I mentioned the Temple of Jupiter Olympus on our arrival, but so
important an edifice must not be passed over with so slight a notice. A
building under this name was begun by Pisistratus, or perhaps still
earlier. This we may suppose to have been destroyed by the Persians.
Pericles seems to have done nothing towards its completion or
re-erection; perhaps Jupiter, in his time, was not a popular deity. Livy
mentions it as built by Antiochus, and as the only temple worthy the
majesty of the god; but the passage is defective. Vitruvius also says
that it was built by Antiochus, and that Cossutius, a Roman, was the
architect. According to Pliny, Sylla carried away its columns to Rome,
but in the immense multitude of fragments remaining in that city, there
is not a single example of a column, or a portion of a column, of large
diameter, of Pentelic marble. Several Asiatic sovereigns are said to
have paid their court to Augustus by contributing to its restoration (an
odd way of gaining favour), and to this epoch I would attribute all the
existing columns, for it contains several particulars which render it
probable that it was prior to Hadrian’s time. To judge of the date of a
building, either by its design or execution, it is necessary to compare
many different works, for every edifice will have something peculiar to
itself, and without several examples it is impossible to distinguish
these individual peculiarities from those which are characteristic of
the age; and we have few examples of architecture in Greece, whose date
we can determine, between the time of Alexander and that of Hadrian. My
principal guide in this instance is in the foliage of the capitals. I
have already mentioned to you the difference of forms adopted by the
artists of Greece and Rome in this respect, and that the latter usually
made the lower divisions of the leaves to lap over the other, (_fig. 4_)
while the former only made them touch; but there also appears to have
been a pretty regular progress among the Greeks themselves in the
arrangement of these divisions. In the earlier examples, the upper point
of the lower division just touches the lowest point of the division
above it, (_fig. 1_). This is the case in the monument of Lysicrates, (I
am sorry to say that Stuart is not good authority in this respect, he
has nowhere sufficiently attended to the character of the foliage), and
such also is the case in this temple of Jupiter Olympus. Afterwards the
upper point of the lower division touched not the point, but the side of
the division above it: (_fig. 2_) of this we have only fragments. In the
latest specimens two points of the lower divisions touch, or nearly
touch, the sides of the upper: (_fig. 3_) of this the fragments are very
numerous, and often executed in a very dry and tasteless manner. What I
suppose Clarke to mean by his early Corinthian capital, is often thus
formed, and is the work of the lower empire. In the arch of Hadrian this
practice is begun, but not fully established, and the leaves are
gracefully drawn. Now if you ask me why I refer these columns to the
time of Augustus rather than that of Antiochus, to which these
observations seem to apply at least equally well, I must refer you to
the authority of Pliny, and the spoliation of Sylla; for I have no
internal evidence.
[Illustration: _Fig. 1._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 2._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 3._]
[Illustration: _Fig. 4._]
In all ruins the mind speculates on what the building has been, and
where the remains are magnificent, on the power, the riches, the zeal,
and intelligence requisite to produce it; and finds no small degree of
pleasure in that employment. In this temple there is ample field for
such speculations, enough still remains to indicate both the disposition
of the building, and that of the court in which it stood, which was
probably surrounded with columns. The columns remaining belonged to the
temple itself; the smaller ones were more easily taken away; the size of
the large ones has been their protection. One of them, which was
standing in Stuart’s time, has however been destroyed by a governor of
Athens, and the materials employed in the erection of a mosque, but the
experiment did not succeed; for the pashaw of Negropont hearing of it,
made it a pretence to extort money from him, on the ground that he had
appropriated to himself the property of the grand signor. These columns
are above 6 feet in diameter, and nearly 60 feet high, that is, they are
somewhat thicker than those of the portico of Covent Garden theatre, and
almost twice as high. They are of the Corinthian order, and their
sculptured capitals still remain. There must have been originally, at
least one hundred and sixteen of them: they are of Pentelic marble, but
many of the blocks are much veined with mica slate, and resemble
cipollino, but with a purer ground. It appears probable that thicker
blocks might be obtained of this, than of the pure white marble. The
workmanship is excellent, though perhaps not equal to that of the
Phidian architecture. Their physical beauty is enhanced by the various
effects of their grouping, as seen in different positions, and by the
stains of a yellowish, or rather of an orange hue, which time has
produced in all the edifices of this marble. It is probably owing to the
action of the air on a small quantity of iron, contained in the mica
which the Pentelic marble is never without. As perfect buildings,
perhaps the original colour was the best, but as ruins, their beauty is
certainly increased by the present tints. These remains are unincumbered
by any modern building, except a little sort of hut, erected on a piece
of the architrave, the traditional residence of a _Stylite_; and they
are placed on an artificial platform, on a bank rising from the Ilissus,
supported by a buttressed wall, part of which still remains. The height
of the bases is unequal, and the plinths of the inner columns rest on
blocks of hard limestone, but there is a sinking of about two inches
below them, as if to receive a marble pavement. One of the outer range
of plinths also rests on a similar limestone, except in front, where
there is a block of marble, and the top of this would have been exactly
level with the surface of the marble pavement. The three first columns
of the south range rest on marble, and the paving between them is of the
same material.
The gateway known by the name of the Arch of Hadrian is near these
columns. It has perhaps rather a foolish and unmeaning look, and the
more so, from the comparison of its little columns with their gigantic
neighbours. Yet still it is an interesting monument; the beauty of the
material, the excellence of the workmanship, the almost perfect state in
which it exists, and a certain lightness and even elegance in the
disposition of its upper part, demand a considerable degree of
admiration. Wilkins has proposed a new reading of the inscription over
the gateway, by which he makes the city of Theseus to lie on the outside
of this archway, and the city of Hadrian between it and the Acropolis. I
could not resist the temptation of making a view of it, standing
directly in front, and looking north-westward. In this position,[30] the
writer tells us that the Acropolis is out of the field of view, while
according to my notions it occupies half the picture.
I will spare you any details of the Gymnasium of Ptolemy, or of the
Stoa, since I have no additions to make to your knowledge of either.
The narrow ridge of the Areopagus would hardly afford room for a court
of justice, but the rocks are cut in all parts, apparently for the
reception of buildings, and this is also in a considerable degree the
case with the hill called Lycabettus; indeed all the three hills,
Lycabettus, Pnyx, and Musæum, are covered with traces of human labour.
Among them are subterranean cones, probably receptacles for corn, and
from one of these cones we observed a passage into a cylindrical pit,
not bigger than a well. Fragments of terra cotta also abound in some
places, and now and then a small piece of marble, but this material was
probably little, if at all used, in private buildings.
The area on the Pnyx, supposed to be the place of assembly, is in part
sustained by a wall of vast stones, forming a line convex outwards; the
largest of them is about 10 feet by 8 on the face, but I do not know its
thickness. The space above is nearly a large sector of a circle, not
much less than a semicircle, with the _beema_ (βημα) in the centre of
the circle. This remains as a raised platform with steps up to it, but
the area slopes in all directions from the _beema_, a circumstance very
inconvenient for public speaking. Just above this is another area,
somewhat similar, but on a smaller scale, and the rocks above it are cut
in a manner which might make one imagine a sort of pulpit in this part
also. From this upper area the sea may be seen, which from the lower
would be quite invisible. In both instances the speaker must have turned
his back upon it. Can these circumstances have anything to do with the
change in the situation of the _beema_ attributed to the thirty tyrants?
By the side of the lower _beema_, which is much more distinct than the
other, there are a number of little, square recesses, which are supposed
to have been intended to receive tablets of notices, or of decrees.
After descending a little from this area, we begin the ascent of the
third and highest of these three hills; which abounds like the others
with vestiges of ancient habitancy, and here and there exhibits a small
portion of the foundation of the city wall. The monument of Philopappus
crowns the summit. I have nothing particular to say of this edifice, but
the view from it is very fine, comprising the whole of the plain of
Athens, and the Saronic Gulf, and their surrounding mountains, beyond
which other mountains appear in distant perspective. Indeed when lighted
up, as I have seen it under a brilliant sunset, it presents a scene of
matchless splendour, as enchanting to the senses as to the imagination.
The Stadium of Herodes Atticus is a little way out of Athens, among (if
I may so express myself) the roots of Hymettus. The eminences which
immediately bound it seem to have approached each other, but their
absolute union at the circular end is artificial. The short valley thus
obtained was lengthened by two great piers of rubble-work; the stone
facing which once completed them is gone, and exposes the rubble,
evidently laid in successive courses with a coat of stucco or mortar
between each. On the right hand are vast foundations of the same nature,
forming, as is supposed, the substruction of the temple of Victory, and
of the immense flight of steps continued to it from the Stadium: on the
left are traces of other edifices, which are said to have constituted
parts of the temple of Fortune. The channel of an occasional torrent
passes under the mound at the upper end. The whole effect must have been
very splendid in its original state, but it is now almost reduced again
to its natural condition. All its marbles and squared stones have been
taken away, and the fragments of rubble which remain are hardly
distinguishable from the native rock, which bursts frequently from the
soil all around. The course was perhaps further lengthened by a
magnificent bridge, certainly not wanted for crossing the Ilissus, and
as the width of the way at the top must have been more than 60 feet, it
could hardly have been intended for a mere passage, even if the Ilissus
were really a river. Stuart figures the three arches as remaining, but
they have all now disappeared, and some peasants were at work when I was
there in detaching the squared masonry of the piers, so that a few
shapeless masses of rubble will probably, in a few years, be all that
remains.
The neighbourhood of Athens is everywhere scattered over with ruins, a
large portion of which appear to have been tombs. With so many
unappropriated fragments, it is almost impossible that we should not
find some which might be conceived to be those of the celebrated men of
Athens, and accordingly we find many of their names attached to these
fragments. They are however, nothing more than foundations, rarely
rising more than a few inches above the soil. The evidence of their
appropriation is very unsatisfactory, and there is nothing in the
remains themselves which would enable us to determine the nature of the
edifice. Of those mentioned by Pausanias, it is probable that the
greater part were little more than those of our burying-grounds, a small
mound of earth, with a short column, or _steelee_, generally thickest
upwards, placed instead of a headstone. Three men in ten days could have
performed but little, and there was a law to limit to this degree of
exertion the expense of a sepulchre. The place of the Academy is guessed
at, rather than known. There can hardly be any great error, but there
are no remains, for the few fragments of capitals, and other mouldings
of buildings in that direction, cannot be traced to it. The two hills of
Colonia are sufficiently evident; natural indications are more durable
than artificial. The supposed situation of the Lyceum is in a smaller
olive-grove on the Ilissus, a little above Athens, and hereabouts
fragments have been found, but there is nothing to identify the precise
spot. The whole ground abounds in these vestiges, and many of the
travellers here amuse themselves in searching for antiquities. The usual
expense in digging is to pay each man sixty _parás_ per diem, with an
additional present on any considerable discovery, and twelve _parás_ per
diem for every man employed is paid to the owner of the land.
After my speculations on the ancient, I should like to give you some
account of the modern productions, but my idea of Turkish architecture
is very imperfect, and will probably remain so, as the only place in
which it can be appreciated is Constantinople. Yet in what I have seen
there are some beautiful particulars, though perhaps, even more than in
Italy, they are beauties of a hot climate. The stables, and some of the
offices, are on the ground-floor. In our own lodging, the stoves for
cooking are under the steps which ascend externally to the upper
apartments. The rooms of the master of the family, and many also of
those appropriated to the servants are on the first floor. There is
occasionally a low story, or mezzanine, between the basement and the
principal rooms, but never anything over the latter, except that in
large houses there is sometimes a sort of tower rising above the general
roof, and containing one large room with windows on three sides, or
perhaps all round it. Such a room as this, was the hall with twenty-four
windows which terminated the palace of Aladdin in the Arabian Nights.
The best house I have seen is that of the bey of Corinth; the principal
part of the building is in the form of the letter L, forming two sides
of a square, and in the corner is a flight of steps leading to the
gallery and the principal floor. This gallery is never omitted in any
decent house; it is always of wood, and the principal rooms open
immediately into it. Our verandas seem to be imitated from it, but its
greater depth, and projecting roof, with deeply ornamented eaves, render
it much superior in effect. The entrance into this palace, like that of
other houses, is by a court, but externally, the walls rise immediately
on the summit of a steep, rocky bank, below which are the gardens, and
it thus commands a view of the plain and gulf of Corinth, and the
situation is very good both for seeing and being seen; though the almost
naked plain of Corinth does not form a very fine foreground. Underneath
the gallery, in the court, is a range of arches, which in England you
might call Saxon, supported on short, round pillars, which do not
correspond with the posts of the gallery above. The walls of this
gallery have been ornamentally painted, but the painting and ornaments
are almost gone. Beyond the part now described is a range of offices,
and beyond these the women’s apartments, which are of course invisible.
The interior of a Turkish room seems formed everywhere on the same
model, and the one I have already described to you in our own lodging,
though of the poorer sort, is on the same plan with the rest. The lower
part is sometimes as large as the upper, sometimes much smaller. A
little wooden shaft commonly runs up the sides from the step which
separates the two levels, and something of the sort is frequently
continued across the room, on the ceiling. The divân surrounds usually
three sides of the upper part of the room; here the Turk or Greek
reclines for the greatest part of the day, smoking his long pipe, or
looking out of the windows, which extend as far as the divân itself; and
here, I believe, he sleeps at night. All this part of the dwelling,
among the richer Turks, is ornamented with painting and gilding,
fancifully, and sometimes tastefully disposed, and the cushions and
backs of the divân are covered with silk, and embroidered. The poorer
content themselves with inferior materials and less decoration. Every
visitor is presented with a pipe and a cup of coffee, and generally with
sweetmeats. The porcelain coffee-cup is placed within a cup of metal,
often richly ornamented, and it is a merit that the liquor should be
very thick. All these little particulars strike the attention when we
first meet with them, but they are nothing in words, because they have
been so often described that the words are become familiar, though the
customs are new.
The early antiquities of this place are so interesting, and the
Christian ones of so little importance, that I find it requires a
considerable effort to turn my attention at all towards them. The
principal church is a gloomy building, divided by ranges of columns, and
not distinctly exhibiting the form of the Greek cross. A little church
dedicated to St. George, on the side towards mount Anchesmus, is more
characteristic. The body of the building is nearly square, with a porch
of the whole width opening by three arches. A Greek cross rises above
the square, and the intersection is crowned with an octagonal lantern,
having a shaft at each angle, supporting a curved rib, and a narrow
semicircular-headed opening on each side. The dome is tiled and springs
from the angles, so that, as in some churches I have noticed to you in
the south of France, the upright faces of the sides of the octagon cut
into it. The whole width of this edifice is but 27 feet, and another
little church dedicated to the same saint, a little below the monument
of Thrasyllus, is still smaller, the nave being but 7 feet wide, but it
is very well constructed. These Greek churches, like the ancient
temples, must have been for the priests, and not for the people.
[Illustration: Illustration of church]
LETTER XLIX.
NEIGHBOURHOOD OF ATHENS.
_Athens, April, 1818._