interest attaches to this work from the inscription, which tells us that
it was set up by King Crœsus of Lydia. This famous monarch was in power
from 560 to 546 B.C. Himself half a Greek, with strong Hellenic
sympathies and in close relation to the Delphic oracle, his growing
power was overcoming and absorbing the independent cities of Ionia, who
made no very violent resistance. But he himself had to face a still
greater power then swallowing up the ancient kingdoms of the East--Cyrus
of the Medes and Persians. Crœsus lost a great battle, and died, as
ostentatiously as he had lived, on a splendid funeral pyre. The Greeks
loved to invent stories about this plutocratic potentate, all
illustrating one of their favourite maxims against pride, “Call no man
happy until he is dead.” In defiance of chronology edifying interviews
were composed between him and Solon. It is clear that the Greeks were
tremendously impressed by his magnificent life and dramatic end. The
fall of the Lydian power brought the Greeks face to face with Persia,
and upon the issue of that momentous conflict hung the destinies of
European civilisation.
On purely æsthetic grounds I prefer to illustrate this section with a
picture which, one fears, chronologically belongs to a period at least
two generations later. But the spirit of Sappho seems to be revealed in
it as in no other work of art. These “Reliefs from the Ludovisi
Throne”[39] were discovered in Rome with no inscription to tell us
whence or when they had been brought there. Decoratively considered,
they are superb examples of low relief. Observe how the motives are
accommodated to the triangular slabs. On one is a flute-girl playing the
double pipe. Feminine nudity is rare indeed in fifth-century work;
probably no one but an _auletris_ would have been so represented at that
date; but the topic is treated with all possible refinement and reserve.
On the other is a hooded worshipper trimming or extinguishing a lamp.
And who is the diademed goddess on the central slab? It is not the sea
from which she is rising. It can be none other than the maid,
Persephone, who spent half the year with her dark lord, Hades, under the
earth, and half with her mother, Demeter, above, and when she came
brought the spring and the flowers back with her. The rendering of the
silken garments half revealing the fine anatomy beneath is so skilful
and advanced that we are surprised to notice that the eyes are still
archaically rendered.
* * * * *
While these lines were in the press there came news that
[Illustration: PLATE XXXI. RELIEFS FROM THE “LUDOVISI THRONE”
_Alinari_]
America had added yet another to her list of trophies captured from
Europe. The Boston Museum of Fine Arts has just acquired three more
slabs which obviously belong to the same monument, and of which, by the
courtesy of the Director, we are enabled to publish one of the earliest
photographic representations.[40] It is said that these additional slabs
had lain for years unrecognised in the hands of a collector at Lewes, in
Sussex. Whether they formed the other half of the same throne, tomb, or
altar, or whether they formed the second of a pair, the new slabs
correspond precisely in shape, subject, and treatment to the old. The
hooded figure of the old “throne” is balanced by the wonderfully
realistic old woman of the new. The nude flute-player has her
counterpart in the nude male citharist. And the long central slab is
matched by the new relief of the winged male god and the two seated
females.
As for the style, it is obviously identical; there is the same
remarkable mixture of archaic imperfection in the delineation of heads
and faces, with finished and confident mastery in the technique of
relief. The architectural ornament, the carving of the nude bodies, the
treatment of the wings and of the drapery, is as advanced as that of the
Parthenon sculptures. Yet the archaic smile of the faces, the carving of
the eyes, the imperfect setting of a head in profile upon a body
full-face recalls the early Æginetan sculptures and the metopes of
Selinus. We must, I suppose, date this work in the period between
Marathon and Salamis, or a very little later. Even so, there is nothing
even on vase-paintings to match the nude bodies or the winged god for
half a century to come.
The subjects are equally puzzling. In the long slab the male god must be
Love, or (as I rather think) Death. The holes in the marble indicate
where the bronze balances he was holding were attached. The two female
figures obviously indicate Joy and Sorrow. The god is smiling and the
balance is inclined towards Joy. Close by the knees of the two women
are mysterious objects of marble which seemed to hang from the scales
and actually supported them. On each is a nude male figure with hands
raised above the head as if in act to strike with the sword. The
architectural scrolls which support this and the corresponding single
figures of the new slabs seem to me to indicate a ship, especially as
there is a dolphin, the regular symbol of sea, under one of them. In
other corners there are pomegranates, a fruit associated with the
underworld.
Mythological interpretation will no doubt attempt to bring these scenes
into relation with the famous Homeric simile of the scales in connection
with the fate of Hector. But that is highly unsatisfying. To my eyes the
whole series bears reference to Death. The Winged God of Death reappears
on Athenian funeral lecythi of a later date. The figure of Sorrow may be
matched by a marble statue found at Eleusis. The musicians have the sad
or pensive faces of dirge-players. The rising Persephone is the heroine
of the Eleusinian myth of immortality. The old woman may be Fate, and
her younger counterpart is surely trimming the lamp for the journey. In
brief, I would hazard the opinion that the whole monument is Eleusinian
and funereal in character, symbolical rather than mythological. Such a
character is strange indeed for the period to which the art seems to
belong, but the art itself is without any close parallel. More it would
be unbecoming to say at present; the monument is _sub judice_, and until
Professor Studniczka has spoken--“let no dog bark.”
THE WEST
Wheresoever the patron is there will the poets be gathered together.
When tyrants like Polycrates and Peisistratus ceased to exist in the
East, and when the Ionian cities had fallen under the Lydian and Persian
despotisms, the courtly poets migrated with their lyres and other
luggage to Sicily and South Italy, where there were aristocracies as
elegant and tyrants as bountiful. The centres of commerce in this
[Illustration: Plate 32.--Reliefs from the “Ludovisi” Throne, now in the
Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, U.S.A.]
period before Athens rose into prominence were Miletus, Corinth, Ægina,
and Sybaris, but above all the first and the last. The West was then, as
it is now, one of the greatest granaries of the world. Sicily in
particular, with its fertile volcanic soil and its equable climate, was
regarded as the original home of wheat. Milesian wool and Eastern wares
found a ready market among the Etruscans, whose tastes were Greek, as
their race originally was. Most of this traffic passed through the hands
of Sybaris. As a result Sybaris, on her soft, warm gulf, became
proverbial for wealth and effeminacy. In the early sixth century Sybaris
seems to have been larger and richer than any other State at any period
of Greek history. Her walls had a circumference of over six miles, her
population was 100,000, she kept a standing force of 5000 horsemen, and
in her last great battle is said to have put 300,000 men into the field.
But in the midst of her opulence and luxury she fell--and was destroyed
for ever, so that not a vestige was left to mark her site. It was her
neighbour and rival Croton that destroyed her. Croton was not nearly so
wealthy, but she was better organised for war. She prided herself on the
number of prizes her athletes won at Delphi and Olympia, and she was led
by the famous strong man Milo, he who
“Could rend an oak
And peg thee in his knotty entrails.”
It is said that in the great battle on the river Traeis in 511 the
cavalry of Sybaris were so much better accustomed to musical drill than
to fighting that at the sound of the enemy’s fifes the Sybarite horses
began to dance! The asceticism which led to Croton’s efficiency was a
result of the teaching of Pythagoras of Samos, the great philosopher. A
strange person was Pythagoras; his philosophy largely consisted of sound
mathematics run mad on metaphysics. He attached mystical meanings to odd
and even numbers; harmony was the principle of the universe. The abiding
doctrine of his philosophy was that of metempsychosis, or the
transmigration of souls:
“CLOWN. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild-fowl?
“MALVOLIO. That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a
bird.”
These doctrines of the immortality of the soul came, no doubt, from the
East, for Pythagoras is reported to have sojourned in Egypt and visited
Babylon. He founded a great secret society, which lived on monastic (and
of course vegetarian) principles. He had considerable influence on the
mind of Plato. His followers, banded together by mystical rites of
initiation, took to playing an important part in the politics of their
country, and fell into disrepute in consequence.
When Sybaris was destroyed some of the survivors took refuge at
Posidonium, her colony. Here, at the modern Pæsto, is one of the most
splendid relics of Doric architecture.[41]
Xenophanes of Colophon was another Ionian philosopher of the sixth
century who came to instruct the West. He was the founder of the
important Eleatic school of philosophy, teaching that God was one, and
was one with Nature. Like others of his kind, he devoted a great deal of
attention to Nature-study, especially geology. These regions also
boasted two of the most celebrated law-givers of antiquity, Zaleucus of
Western Locri, said to have been the first to put laws into writing, and
Charondas of Catane. We have seen reason to believe that the Law-givers
of Greece represent rather a conception of Greek history than a fact.
Doubtless these two sages are as historical as Solon, but there is even
less doubt that they have both been made the peg for elaborate forgeries
of some late Pythagorean philosopher, who succeeded in foisting off a
whole series of excellent moral doctrines upon their shoulders, to the
great confusion of later writers, such as Cicero and Diodorus, who
believed them to be genuine.
[Illustration: PLATE XXXIII. THE TEMPLE OF POSEIDON AT PAESTO]
Their spuriousness was conclusively demonstrated by the great Richard
Bentley.
Lyric poets too arose in Sicily and Asia Minor. Stesichorus of Himera,
who was stricken blind because he spoke ill of beautiful Helen of Troy,
and Ibycus of Rhegium, who sings with almost Sapphic fire of roses and
nightingales and Eros
“Who shooteth his melting glance from under his shadowy eyelids.”
But most remarkable for its volume of talent is the galaxy of poets
gathered at Syracuse round the great tyrant Hiero. His wealth is
indicated by his frequent victories in the chariot-races of Greece. To
these athletic triumphs we owe not only the incomparable coin-types of
Syracuse, but the immortal victory-songs of Pindar. The eagle flights of
Pindar I have already described as indescribable. We cannot, I think,
put ourselves into the attitude of the Greeks with regard to horseraces.
Heavily as we may bet about them, we do not associate them with history
and religion. Until we do so Pindar must remain largely a stranger to
us. He is like some fairy juggler throwing up strings of jewels which
vanish when we try to grasp them. Bacchylides is a lesser, more facile
Pindar. I have mentioned that his uncle Simonides and Anacreon also
migrated to this court. Presently they were joined by a greater than
them all--the tragedian Æschylus.
As the East had powerful barbarian kingdoms to withstand, so the West
had a terrible enemy always at the gates--the Semites. These Phœnician
traders were far more powerful and aggressive in their colony of
Carthage than in the mother cities, Tyre and Sidon. Admirably organised
as a State, with able generals and highly trained mercenary troops, they
coveted the rich island of Sicily. They seem to have effected a lodgment
on the west end of the island before the Greeks came to colonise the
east and south. Thanks to the great resources of the tyrants of
Syracuse, the Greeks here were more successful in resisting the
barbarians than were the Ionians of the east. The great conflict came in
the battle of Himera, fought, according to tradition, on the same day as
Salamis, and won by Gelo, who preceded his brother Hiero on the throne
of Syracuse. This victory thrust the Phœnicians back into their corner
for nearly a century.
It is to be observed that Himera and Platæa meant far more than physical
victories. Neither Persians nor Phœnicians were in our sense barbarians;
indeed, so far as political organisation and material comfort are
concerned they were far ahead of the Greeks. It was a question which of
two civilisations, which of two spiritual and moral standpoints, should
prevail. In these victories Europe escaped out of Gomorrah with the
smell of the brimstone upon the hair of her head and the skirts of her
raiment.
The town nearest to the Carthaginians in Sicily was Selinus. The wealth
and piety of this city are indicated by the remains of eight Doric
temples, seven of which belong to the sixth and early fifth centuries.
From these come the earliest examples of temple sculpture. The earliest
is the very archaic metope[42] which shows Perseus cutting off the head
of the Gorgon, who is clinging to a small Pegasus, while Athene stands
behind to encourage the hero. The heads are full-face, while the legs
are in profile. The Gorgon is the happiest effort (she looks the
happiest of the three), because this was a recognised art type of
ugliness and terror. The other[43] here illustrated is of the early
fifth century, a little before the Olympia metopes. It represents with
great dignity and beauty the appearance of Hera to Zeus when she came in
all her finery, as related in Homer, to beguile his heart. Observe how
admirably the scene is designed to fill the space of the panel without
overcrowding.
Acragas, too, the home of the tyrant Theron, has left us ruins of a
colossal temple of an unusual design. The columns are so huge that a man
can stand inside the fluting of them.
[Illustration: PLATE XXXIV. METOPES FROM THE TEMPLE OF HERA AT SELINUS
_Alinari_
FIG. 1. PERSEUS AND GORGON
_Alinari_
FIG. 2. HERA AND ZEUS]
The most remarkable feature is the row of pillars, carved to represent
men, bearing up the heavy entablature, as the caryatids of the
Erechtheum carried their portico upon their heads. But the motive at
Acragas was to indicate the strength of the bearers and the weight of
the burden. The refined Athenian put maidens in their place, with a very
light roof to carry. It was not an idea that found much acceptance among
the Greeks, though it is rather popular with the modern
architect--witness the Hermitage Palace at Petersburg.
Of all the splendours of ancient Syracuse the best memorials are the
lofty Doric columns built into the walls of the Christian cathedral. For
Syracusan art, however, we prefer to turn to their coins.[44] It is said
that Gelo cast these first beautiful silver pieces out of the spoil
taken from the Carthaginians at Himera. The reverse always bears the
chariot, with four horses for a tetradrachm, two for a didrachm, and one
for a drachma. On the obverse is the head of the nymph Arethusa, who
presided over the sacred spring on the peninsular citadel of Syracuse
which was called Ortygia. The dolphins around the head are held to
indicate the salt sea which surrounds this fresh spring of water. If the
coin types are any proof, we may suppose that Gelo thought more of his
victories at Olympia in the chariot race than of his triumph on the
battlefield of Himera.
IV
THE GRAND CENTURY
ὅθι παῖδες Ἀθαναίων ἐβάλοντο φαεννὰν κρηπῖδ’ ἐλευθερίας.
PINDAR.
THE RISE OF ATHENS
Never in all the world’s history was there such a leap of civilisation
as in Greece of the fifth century. In one town of about thirty thousand
citizens during the lifetime of a man and his father these things
occurred: a world-conquering Power was shattered for ever, a naval
empire was built up, the drama was developed to full stature, sculpture
grew from crude infancy to a height it has never yet surpassed, painting
became a fine art, architecture rose from clumsiness to the limit of its
possibilities in one direction, history was consummated as a scientific
art, the most influential of all philosophies was begotten. And all this
under no fostering despot, but in the extreme human limit of liberty,
equality, and fraternity. One Athenian family might have known
Miltiades, Themistocles, Æschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, Socrates,
Pheidias, Pericles, Anaxagoras, Aristophanes, Herodotus, Thucydides,
Polygnotus, and Ictinus.
No historical cause will account for genius, no historian can predict
its coming. Some say that great literature is produced by outbursts of
national emotion, as Shakespeare was “produced” by the defeat of the
Spanish Armada (though he
[Illustration: PLATE XXXV. EARLY COINS OF SICILY AND MAGNA GRÆCIA
1. NAXOS. 2. TARENTUM. 3. CATANA. 4. SYRACUSE.]
was twenty-four when it happened) and Milton by the Puritan rebellion
(though he wrote “Comus” in 1634). Others maintain that art is the
blossom of decay. It is vain to look to politics for the real cause of
the uprising of genius. But when a whole state rises simultaneously to
an intellectual heat, at which masterpieces are thrown off almost daily,
in almost every department of human activity, we may, and must, look for
some historical and political explanation.
Peisistratus, as I have argued, had laid the foundations of Athenian
civilisation, partly by making it into a real city-state, partly by
direct encouragement of art and literature, partly by promoting
commerce, and thus opening the way to foreign influences. Then in 507
Cleisthenes and the Spartans had given Athens a free republic, with
distinctly democratic tendencies. Thus the cold domination of the
conservative, uncultured aristocracy, who had mainly been occupied in
agricultural pursuits, had lost ground, although, no doubt, the
Areopagus, which still “directed most things,” maintained its influence
to a considerable extent. What now grew into the most powerful element
in the state was the seafaring commercial population, who lived mainly
on the sea-coast. These were the restless, eager brains which were
beginning to think things out, and to find their bearings in the big
world outside Attica. They would be in constant business relations with
their Ionian kinsmen across the sea, and thus catch a tincture of their
cosmopolitan culture. Accordingly, when at the close of the sixth
century the Ionians rose in revolt against their Persian masters,
Athens, with Eretria, another commercial city of Eastern connections,
alone responded to their cry for help. It was only a raid, but it singed
the Great King’s beard by burning one of his capitals, Sardis. For this
revenge was promised. The Great King of those days was no effeminate,
luxurious Oriental, such as those whom Alexander chased about Asia in
later days. The Medes and Persians were then invincible conquerors, who
had just devoured all the great empires and ancient civilisations of
the East. They were out to conquer the world, and now nothing but a
narrow sea lay between them and the presumptuous Greeks. Accordingly,
ambassadors were sent in the usual fashion to Greece, to demand earth
and water in token of submission. The Athenians are said to have thrown
their envoys into the barathron where the bodies of felons were flung
for burial, there to collect what earth they could. The Spartans, with
whom originality was never a strong point, threw _theirs_ into a well,
indicating thereby that the answer was in the negative. So Darius
collected a very great host from all his vassals, and sent it round by
land, with the ships coasting alongside. Fortunately for Greece, the
fleet met with fearful shipwreck off the dangerous Chalcidian promontory
of Mount Athos. In 490 Darius tried again. This time it was a much
smaller force, designed, not to conquer Greece, but merely to punish
Athens and Eretria. It was a naval expedition only, but room was
provided in the ships to bring back the Athenians in chains for summary
judgment. Datis and Artaphernes were the leaders, but the ex-tyrant
Hippias was there to show them the way to the Acropolis, where it seems
he already had some friends awaiting his return. But Athens also had an
ex-tyrant of the Chersonese among her generals, one who knew the Persian
method of fighting and had the strongest motives for resisting them.
That tyrant was Miltiades. Hippias’ plan was to cross over the strait
from Eubœa, where the Persians had succeeded in enslaving Eretria, land
on the north coast of Attica with a large force, and while the land army
of Athens was engaged there, slip round with the fleet to Peiræus and
catch Athens undefended. His plans miscarried, for the Athenian line
swept down the hill at Marathon[45] upon the Persian archers before they
were fully deployed, and with their lightning charge hurled them back
into the sea with great slaughter, then marched back at full speed to
the city, in time.
[Illustration: PLATE XXXVI. THE PLAIN OF MARATHON
_English Photo Co., Athens_]
This was the triumph of the Athenian hoplite--his only really great feat
in history--led by aristocrats and governed by an aristocratic council.
The hoplite himself was a comfortable burgess who could afford a full
suit of armour. It was not a victory for democracy, and the clamorous
proletariat of the Peiræus had little, if any, share in it. But it was a
purely Athenian triumph. Alone--with the help of her little Bœotian
friend Platæa--alone she had done it. The great Dorian city had been
urgently entreated by the runner Philippides to send aid. But Sparta was
busy with a festival and had to wait until the moon came right for
marching. Athens now, by virtue of this supreme achievement, stepped up
into the second rank of Greek Powers.
A few years later some slaves working in the Athenian silver-mines at
Laurium chanced to strike a rich vein of metal. All Athenian citizens
were shareholders in all the state’s property, and naturally expected to
divide the profits, which would amount to about ten francs a head. Then
stood up a certain Themistocles--not an aristocrat, but a persuasive
speaker with the supplest brain that Zeus had ever created since Hermes
stole the cows--and proposed to spend the whole bonus on ships. This is
the turning-point of Athenian history. The stout hoplites who had won
the day at Marathon stood aghast at the proposal. They pointed out that
the strength of Pallas lay in her spear, that to create a navy would be
to encourage those turbulent radicals at the Peiræus. Besides, what was
it for? The Persians had gone home again. Themistocles, in reply, drew
attention to a little war then on hand with Ægina, an island obviously
not to be conquered by hoplites only. Doubtless a Greek neighbour was
the more persuasive bogey, but Themistocles must have known that Persia
was the enemy. Athens did not require a hundred new ships to fight
Ægina, which had not a score for use in battle. No doubt Themistocles
had the support of the “nautical rabble,” for he gained a majority for
his proposal, and soon afterwards got rid of his chief opponent,
Aristeides, by ostracism. Thus Athens acquired a fleet beyond all
comparison the most powerful in Greek waters. It was needed.