CHAPTER VII

CORINTH AND ITS CANAL

By its geographical position Corinth seems to have been predestined to

commercial greatness. While it commanded the land route from the

Peloponnesus to continental Greece, its two harbours on either side of

the isthmus, opening, the one on the Corinthian, and the other on the

Saronic Gulf, made it a natural emporium for East and West. There was no

reason indeed why its military power should not have been as

distinguished as its opulence. Its great acropolis (Acro-Corinthus, as

it was called), a precipitous mountain nearly 1900 feet high, rising

abruptly out of the plain and commanding a view of nearly the half of

Greece, with a plateau on its summit large enough to accommodate

thousands of men, was marked out by nature as an impregnable fortress.

But, whether owing to the Phœnician element in the population or to

the peace-making tendencies of its commercial pursuits, Corinth was

never of very much account in war, though it was the first city in

Greece to build a navy.

One of the most famous of its early kings was Sisyphus, whose name is

supposed to have been a reduplication of the Greek word _sophos_. His

wisdom, however, seems to have been of a mean and sinister kind, better

described as cunning, if we may judge from some of the illustrations of

it which have come down to us. According to a well-known tradition he

was condemned by Zeus to the hopeless and never-ending task, in Hades,

of pushing a stone up the side of a mountain, from which it always

rolled back before he could place it securely on the summit--an

appropriate enough punishment for a man who had been guilty of murdering

travellers as they crossed the isthmus by rolling down great stones upon

them from the mountains.

His beautiful grandson, Bellerophon, was a man of a different type. His

incorruptible virtue, when tempted by the queen of Argos, and the divine

protection granted to him in all the perils to which, like Joseph in

Egypt, he was exposed--culminating in his marriage to the King of

Lycia’s daughter with half the kingdom for a dowry--formed a pleasing

theme for ancient poets and moralists. According to one tradition, it

was the hoof of his winged horse Pegasus that struck the first water

from the fountain Peirene, on the top of Acro-Corinthus. According to

another account the spring was a gift to Sisyphus from the river Asopus,

for having given information against Zeus in a matter affecting his

family welfare.

Another famous name was that of Creon, King of Corinth, whose daughter

Glauké came to such a tragic end. According to the common version of

the story, Jason had come to Corinth with his wife Medea, by whose aid

he had succeeded in bringing back the Golden Fleece from Colchis.

Forgetful of his vows, he fell in love with Glauké and was about to

marry her, when the enraged Medea, who was skilled in the magical arts

of the East, sent the bride a beautiful undergarment, which, as soon as

it was put on, set fire to the wearer. Pausanias mentions a fountain

into which Glauké threw herself in her agony, and within the last few

years the enclosed well referred to has been brought to light.

After a long line of kings the Bacchiadæ are said to have come into

power, ruling jointly, with one of their number as president, until the

government was usurped by Cypselus, one of those “tyrants” who figure so

prominently in Greek history during the seventh and sixth centuries B.C.

Among the finest votive offerings at Olympia was an elaborately-carved

chest dedicated by his descendants, the Cypselids, to commemorate the

preservation of his life while he was an infant. His birth had been

heralded by oracles which portended destruction to the ruling clan, from

which his mother was sprung, and messengers were sent to Petra, where

his parents lived, to take the child’s life. They had arranged that the

first of them who should receive the child in his arms should dash it to

the ground. But when the unsuspecting mother put it into the hands of

one of them, he was so touched by a smile on the face of the infant that

he passed it on to the second, and so on, till they had all failed to

carry out their cruel design. On leaving the house they began to

reproach one another for their weakness of purpose, and agreed to go in

again and all take a share in the deed. But the mother had overheard the

conversation, and succeeded in saving the child’s life by concealing it

in a chest, for which reason it was called Cypselus.

Cypselus was succeeded by his son Periander, who ruled with a rod of

iron, but brought the country to a still higher degree of prosperity

than it had ever attained before. According to Herodotus, his cruel

policy of destroying men of light and leading among his subjects had

been learned from Thrasybulus of Miletus, to whom he sent a deputy for

advice as to the best means of securing his position. Thrasybulus said

nothing, but took his visitor into a corn-field, and as they passed

along cut down all the high and heavy stalks which attracted his

attention. According to Aristotle, however, Periander was the teacher of

this lesson, not the learner. He was succeeded by a son, who was soon

driven from the throne. A democratic government was then established,

which continued, with the occasional rise of an oligarchy, for several

centuries. So deep was the impression made on the Corinthians by the

cruelty of their despots, that when a conference was held at Sparta some

time afterwards for the purpose of considering a proposal to restore the

Peisistratid dynasty to Athens, the Corinthian deputy made a strong and

eloquent protest against it, and the design had to be abandoned.

[Illustration: THE TEMPLE AT CORINTH

The five columns to the right belong to the Western Peristyle, and the

two columns in front of us to the Southern Peristyle. These columns are

all monolithic. The remains of the Temple at Corinth are amongst the

most ancient existing monuments of Doric architecture. Above the Temple

to the right is the lofty Acropolis of Corinth (the Acro-Corinthus),

with the mediæval fortifications on its summit. Careful observers will

notice that the capital of the near column has been turned round on its

shaft, no doubt owing to the action of earthquakes.]

The unhappy relations of Corinth to her colony Corcyra have already been

alluded to (p. 9). On the other hand, there are few brighter pages in

the annals of Greece than the story of the deliverance of Syracuse,

another of her colonies, from the tyranny of Dionysius by Timoleon, one

of the best and greatest of her sons. Timoleon had lived in retirement

for twenty years, owing to a crushing sorrow which had befallen him in

connection with the death of his brother Timophanes, who had sought to

make himself master of the city. Timoleon went up to the citadel with

one or two other patriotic men to remonstrate with the new despot, who

was bringing in a reign of terror. Timophanes was obdurate, and from

angry words the parties came to blows, with the result that the usurper

was slain. Timoleon himself took no part in the affray, his heart being

torn with conflicting emotions, owing to his love for his brother, whose

life he had once heroically saved in battle. His position excited

general sympathy, but in some quarters he was blamed for his brother’s

death, and his mother was inexorable in her bitter grief, refusing ever

to look upon his face again. After his long and sad seclusion he was now

called by the voice of the assembled people to take command of the

expedition to Sicily, the task having been declined by many of the

leading men. He accepted the commission; and with such signal success

did he execute it, with very limited means at his command, that his

achievements were universally attributed to the favour of the gods. He

was equally eminent for courage and sagacity. On one occasion, when he

was about to encounter a Carthaginian army many times greater than his

own, he met some mules carrying burdens of parsley, which was generally

used for putting on tombstones. The evil omen struck the imagination of

his soldiers and their hearts were beginning to sink, when Timoleon,

seizing some of the parsley, made a wreath of it and put it on his head,

exclaiming that it was their Corinthian emblem of victory which fortune

was now putting in their way. His officers followed his example, the

result being that the spirits of the army rose, and they went forward to

a glorious victory. As soon as he had restored freedom and order

throughout the island he invited the citizens of Syracuse to join with

him in pulling down the tyrant’s stronghold, setting up courts of

justice in its place. He then resigned his commission, refusing to

accept any official position in the state, of which he had been

virtually the restorer. But so deep was the impression made on the

community by his great and disinterested services that whenever there

was a serious difference of opinion on any public question he was called

in as umpire. He lost his eyesight towards the end of his life, and

Cornelius Nepos gives a touching picture of the acclamation with which

he would be greeted by the assembly when he was led into the hall seated

on his car, from which the mules had been unyoked, to hear some question

referred to him, and of the profound respect with which his judgment

would be received. One of the results of Timoleon’s mission to Sicily

was that the dethroned Dionysius was brought over to Corinth, and spent

the remainder of his life there in very humble circumstances. He made a

livelihood by teaching reading and singing, and for a while he was as

great an object of interest in the city as Napoleon the Great would have

been if he had been sent to London instead of St. Helena.

Owing to its geographical position Corinth was frequently the scene of

conference between different Greek states. In 337 B.C. a general

congress was summoned by Philip for the purpose of obtaining approval of

his scheme for the invasion of Persia in his new rôle as the head of

Greece. The desired assent was given (Sparta alone withholding it), but

the scheme was never carried out, owing to the assassination of Philip

by an aggrieved member of his bodyguard. In the midst of splendid

festivities to celebrate his daughter’s marriage to the King of Epirus

and the birth of a son to himself by his new wife, the exultant king,

clothed in white, was about to enter the crowded theatre at the end of a

solemn procession, in which statues of the twelve great divinities of

Olympus were followed by an image of himself--when, suddenly, the fatal

blow was struck that put an end for ever to his hope of further

conquest. Within two months after the death of his father, Alexander was

marching with an army through Greece, and at another congress held in

Corinth he had the same honours voted to him as his father had received.

The following year (335 B.C.) Alexander was again at Corinth, seeing

Greece for the last time, although he was only twenty-one years old. It

was on this occasion that he was so taken with the amazing

self-sufficiency of the cynical philosopher who had nothing better to

ask of the young potentate, when he was honoured with a visit, than to

request him to stand out of his sunshine. “If I were not Alexander,”

exclaimed the monarch, “I would be Diogenes.”

At a later time Corinth played a prominent part in connection with the

Achæan League. The story of the capture of Acro-Corinthus from the

Macedonians by Aratus on a moonlit night, so graphically told by

Plutarch, is one of the most interesting passages in any of his

biographies. A hundred years afterwards (146 B.C.) the forwardness of

Corinth in an attempt to throw off the Roman yoke led to its complete

destruction and depopulation by the Roman consul, L. Mummius. In the

next century, however, Julius Cæsar saw the vast capabilities of the

site, and planted on it a Roman colony, which led to such a development

of trade that in the first century of the Christian era it was again one

of the most flourishing cities of Greece.

Of its wealth and magnificence very slight traces now remain. The most

imposing ruin is that of a Dorian temple of Apollo, dating from the

sixth or seventh century B.C. Seven of its columns, with a portion of

the architrave, have braved the storm for 2600 years and escaped the

hand of the destroyer. These monoliths, about 23½ feet high and fully 5½

feet thick, tapering upwards, form a most impressive monument. Two other

columns have recently been discovered

[Illustration: THE TEMPLE OF ATHENA AT SUNIUM (CAPE COLONNA) FROM THE

NORTH

An encampment on the site of the _cella_ of the Temple.]

below ground by the American School of Archæology, to which we are also

indebted for the identification of the fountain of Glauké, already

mentioned, and that of the lower Peirene, with the masonry surrounding

them. Marble propylæa, leading to the market-place, and a theatre have

also been uncovered. On the top of Acro-Corinthus there was a temple of

Aphrodité, with a ritual borrowed from that of the Phœnician Astarté,

but scarcely any trace of it has been discovered, the remains being

principally those of fortifications, including some of such a primitive

and massive construction that the name of Cyclopean may be applied to

them.

Scarcely anywhere do we find any sign of the “Corinthian” column, though

the _acanthus_ or thistle, which is said to have suggested that style of

decoration to Callimachus, may frequently be seen in the bare and arid

plain which forms the southern part of the isthmus. According to

Vitruvius, the Latin writer on architecture, the idea occurred to

Callimachus on seeing the acanthus growing over a basket which had been

placed by her old nurse on the grave of a young lady who had died on the

eve of her marriage. In the basket were deposited a number of little

things which had been dear to the lady in her childhood, and on the top

the nurse had placed a square flat tile to keep out the rain. When the

spring came round, a hidden acanthus root put forth its leaves, which

crept up the sides of the basket and coiled round the corners of the

tile like volutes; and it was in imitation of the beautiful appearance

thus presented that Callimachus designed the style of capital which

afterwards became famous as the Corinthian order.

Northward from the propylæa the road leads to the harbour of Lechæum,

about a mile and a half distant, and alongside of it traces of the two

long walls can still be seen. The harbour is now a lagoon, and that on

the eastern side of the isthmus at Cenchreæ is also desolate--a state of

things which contrasts sadly with what might have been seen as early as

700 B.C., when Corinth was famous for its shipping, and had just built

four triremes (full-deckers, with triple banks of oars) for the people

of Samos, who had never possessed such ships before. To many minds,

however, Cenchreæ suggests other thoughts, for it was there that

Phœbe, the prototype of Christian deaconesses, dwelt, whom St. Paul

commended to the Christians at Rome as “our sister, which is a servant

of the church which is at Cenchreæ.” Another thing that reminds us of

St. Paul is a fragment of marble in the local museum bearing the letters

... αγωγη εβ ..., the original having evidently been συναγωγη εβραιων,

recalling the fact mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles that Paul spent

a year and a half in Corinth with Aquila and Priscilla, in a house

adjoining the synagogue. At the little railway station of New Corinth we

had a proof how much more lasting may be the influence of the pen than

of the sword when we were offered a copy of the New Testament in Greek,

issued by the British and Foreign Bible Society. New Corinth lies to the

north-west of the ancient city, not very far from the Lechæan harbour.

It is a well-built little town of about 4000 inhabitants, and was

founded fifty years ago, when the old town was destroyed by an

earthquake--the third time that such a calamity had happened to it

during the Christian era. At no great distance are the traces of the

walls by which the Peloponnesian states at various periods attempted to

secure themselves against invasion from the north. Some remains have

also been found of the _diolkos_ or tramway, running across the

narrowest and lowest part of the isthmus, by which it was customary to

transport not only the freight of vessels but the vessels themselves,

while the passengers frequently walked across to the port on the other

side.

The idea of cutting a canal is said to date as far back as the reign of

Periander, already mentioned, who was accounted one of the Seven Wise

Men of Greece. It was entertained by Demetrius Poliorcetes and Julius

Cæsar, but Nero was the first to make any serious attempt to carry it

out. “A great multitude of soldiers and prisoners, including apparently

6000 Jews sent by Vespasian from Judæa, were assembled at the isthmus,

and operations were begun with much solemnity, apparently about the end

of 67 A.D. The emperor himself, after chanting hymns in honour of the

marine deities, set the example by giving a few strokes with a golden

pickaxe, which the governor of Greece formally handed to him. Then the

multitude fell to work in earnest, the soldiers turning up the earth,

and the prisoners hewing at the rocks. A beginning was made on the

western side of the isthmus, but excavations had been carried for a

distance of only about four furlongs when they were suddenly suspended

in consequence of evil tidings which Nero received of conspiracies at

Rome and disaffection among the armies of the West.”[4]

The modern canal, which was undertaken by a French Company in 1881, was

completed by a Greek Company in 1893. To one sailing through it has a

much more striking appearance than the Suez Canal, owing to the height

of its banks on either side, for the most part cut out of sandy or

alluvial soil, and rising like walls to a height of more than 100 feet.

At one point the railway passes over it at a height of about 170 feet

above the water. The canal is about three and a half miles long. It

reduces the voyage from the Ionian Islands to Athens to about half the

distance involved in sailing round Cape Matapan, but unfortunately it is

too narrow (only about 75 feet wide) to be of much use for the larger

ships. As a rule it is only the Greek coasting vessels that take

advantage of it, and there is little or no prospect of its ever becoming

one of the great highways to the East.

Not far from the eastern end of the canal is the precinct that was

sacred to Poseidon, where the Isthmian Games were held every second

year. The stadium can still be traced, memorable, among other things, as

the scene of the inauguration of Alexander the Great as the acknowledged

prince of Greece, and of the proclamation of liberty to the Greeks, one

hundred and forty years

[Illustration: OFF CAPE MATAPAN, SOUTHERN GREECE

Sketch from the Messageries steamer _Nerthe_.]

afterwards, by the Roman Consul Flamininus. A little way south, on a

plateau about 300 feet high, are extensive remains of a city built out

of the rock, which may have been the prehistoric city of the isthmus,

referred to by Homer as “wealthy Ephyra.” Some twenty miles to the

south-west, on the way to Mycenæ, lies the secluded vale of Nemea, where

games were also celebrated every second year, consecrated by the

erection of a temple of Zeus, of which a number of beautiful columns are

still standing, while others lie prostrate on the ground. It was in this

woody district that the lion which Heracles slew, as the first of the

Twelve Labours imposed upon him by Eurysthenes, was supposed to have had

his lair.

Greece Painted by John Fulleylove; described by J.A. McClymont · 第 7 / 12 章