GREEK SARCOPHAGI.
Discovery of sarcophagi at Sidon, 243. Archaic sarcophagi of
Clazomenae, 243. Sarcophagus of the Satrap at Sidon, 245; its connexion
with history, 246; and with Ionian art, 247. The Lycian
sarcophagus, 248; ideal character, 248. The sarcophagus of the Mourning
Women, 249; variety in expression of grief, 251; likeness to temple, 251;
perhaps belongs to King Strato, 252. The Alexander sarcophagus, 252;
dress of Greeks and Persians, 253; subjects of pediments, 253; the lion-hunt,
255; the battle, 256; perhaps belongs to Abdalonymus, 258; of
uncertain artistic school, 258. The Amazon sarcophagus of Vienna, 258.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
WITH THEIR SOURCES
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
FIG. 1. LYING IN STATE. Benndorf, _Griech. u. Sicil. Vasenb._, pl. i. 3
2. “ “ “ pl. xxxiii. 4
3. FUNERAL PROCESSION. Rayet, _Monum. de l’Art ant._,
pl. lxxv. 6
4. ARRIVAL AT THE TOMB. “ “ pl. lxxv. 6
5. DEPOSITION AT THE TOMB. Dumont, _Céram. de la Grèce
propre_, pl. xxvii. 9
6. PYRE OF PATROCLUS. _Mon. dell’ Inst._ IX, xxxii. 10
CHAPTER II.
7. CHILD’S COFFIN. Stackelberg, _Gräber der Hellenen_, pl. viii. 14
8. OFFERINGS AT A TOMB. _Ephemeris Archaiol._ 1886, pl. iv. 18
9. SPIRIT SEATED ON STELE. Pottier, _Lécythes blancs_, pl. iv. 20
10. TOILET SCENE, SEPULCHRAL. Furtwängler, _Coll. Sabouroff_,
pl. lx. 21
11. GIFTS AT TOMB. _Brit. Mus. Cat. Vases_, IV, pl. iv. 22
CHAPTER III.
12. THE BOAT OF CHARON. _Antike Denkmäler_, I, pl. xxiii. 31
13. THE GREEK UNDERWORLD. _Wiener Vorlegeblätter_, Ser. E,
pl. i. 36
CHAPTER IV.
14. SECTIONAL PLAN OF THE SO-CALLED TREASURY OF ATREUS.
Schuchhardt, _Schliemann’s Ausgrabungen_, p. 176 47
15. RESTORATION OF INTERIOR OF TREASURY. Perrot et
Chipiez, _La Grèce Primitive_, p. 638 48
16. PLAN AND FAÇADE OF TREASURY. Perrot et Chipiez, _La
Grèce Primitive_, pl. vi. 49
17. CEILING OF TREASURY, ORCHOMENUS. _Journ. Hell.
Stud._ II, pl. xiii. 50
18. TOMBSTONE, MYCENAE. Schliemann, _Mycenae_, p. 81 54
19. ” ” ” ” p. 86 55
20. ” ” Perrot et Chipiez, _op. cit._, p. 770 56
CHAPTER V.
21. TUMULUS ON SIPYLUS. Texier, _Description de l’Asie M._
pl. cxxx. 61
22. SECTION OF CHAMBER. Weber, _Le Sipyle_, pl. i. 61
23. TOMB OF MIDAS. Perrot et Chipiez, _Phrygie_, p. 83 62
24. GEOMETRICAL FAÇADE OF TOMB. ” ” p. 103 63
25. TOMB FLANKED BY LIONS. ” ” p. 111 64
26. HEAD OF LION. _Journ. Hell. Stud._ pl. xviii. 65
27. NORTH AND WEST SIDES OF HARPY TOMB. E. A. Gardner,
_Handbook of Greek Sculpture_, I, p. 110 71
28. GABLE OF LYCIAN TOMB. Photograph 74
CHAPTER VI.
PL. ii. SPARTAN STELE. Photograph 76
FIG. 29. HADES AND PERSEPHONE. _Ann. dell’ Inst._ XIX, pl. F 79
30. SEATED HERO. _Journ. Hell. Stud._ V, p. 123 83
31. STELE, MAN FEEDING SNAKE. Photograph 85
CHAPTER VII.
PL. iii. SEPULCHRAL BANQUET. Photograph 88
FIG. 32. ASSUR-BANI-PAL AND QUEEN. Perrot et Chipiez, _Chaldée
et Assyrie_, p. 107 89
33. STELE FROM TEGEA. Photograph 90
34. COIN OF BIZYA. _Br. Mus. Cat. Coins, Thrace_, p. 90 92
35. HORSEMAN RELIEF (British Museum). Photograph 96
36. HORSEMAN RELIEF (Berlin). Furtwängler, _Coll. Sabouroff_,
pl. xxix. 97
37. VOTIVE TABLET, TARENTUM. _Mon. dell’ Inst._ XI, pl. lv. 101
38. HERO ON FOOT. _Monum. Grecs de l’Assoc. d’Études
Grecques_, pl. i. 102
39. HERO SEATED. Roscher, _Lexikon_, I, p. 2571 103
CHAPTER VIII.
FIG. 40. ACHILLES AT TOMB OF PATROCLUS. Gerhard, _Auserlesene
Vasenbilder_, pl. cxcix. 108
PL. iv. MARRIAGE-VASE. _Athen. Mittheil._ 1887, pl. ix. 114
v. MARRIAGE-VASE AND LEKYTHI. Photograph 115
i. VIEW IN CEMETERY OF CERAMEICUS. ” 118
FIG. 41. HEAD OF ASSYRIAN STELE. Perrot et Chipiez, _Chaldée et
Assyrie_, p. 270 120
42. HEAD OF GREEK STELE. Brückner, _Ornament u. Formen
der Att. Grabstelen_, pl. i. 120
43. ANTHEMION OF STELE. Photograph 121
43A. ” ” ” 122
43B. ” ” ” 123
44. SPHINX OF SPATA. ” 123
45. TERRA-COTTA: SPHINX AND YOUTH. Stackelberg, _Gräber
der Hellenen_, pl. lvi. 124
46. STELE OF LAMPTRAE, RESTORED. _Athen. Mittheil._ XII,
p. 105 125
47. SIREN FROM TOMB. Photograph 127
48. HEAD OF STELE. ” 128
49. ” ” ” 129
50. STELE OF LEON. ” 130
CHAPTER IX.
51. PORTRAIT FROM TOMB, THERA. _Athen. Mittheil._ IV,
pl. vi. 135
52. HORSEMAN FROM TOMB. ” ” pl. iii. 137
PL. vi. SEATED LADY. Photograph 137
vii. HERMES OF ANDROS. ” 138
viii. MOURNING SLAVE. Furtwängler, _Coll. Sabouroff_, pl. xv. 139
ix. STELE OF ARISTION. Photograph 140
” STELE OF ALXENOR. ” 141
FIG. 53. SEATED HERO. Michaelis, _Anc. Marbles in Gr. Brit._
p. 385 142
54. HEAD OF YOUTH HOLDING DISCUS. _C. A. G._ pl. iv. 143
55. DERMYS AND CITYLUS. _Athen. Mittheil._ III, pl. xiv. 144
PL. x. TYNNIAS SEATED. Photograph 145
xi. STELE OF ARISTONAUTES. Photograph 146
xii. STELE OF DEXILEOS. ” 147
FIG. 56. WARRIOR OF TEGEA. _Bull. de Corresp. hellénique_, IV,
pl. vii. 148
PL. xiii. YOUTH WITH DOG. Photograph 149
FIG. 57. ATHLETE BALANCING STONE. Photograph 150
58. YOUNG HORSEMAN. ” 151
PL. xiv. STELE FROM AEGINA. ” 151
xv. RELIEF FROM ILISSUS. ” 152
FIG. 59. STELE OF DEMOCLEIDES. ” 153
60. HEAD OF OLD MAN. ” 155
61. BOY, FROM STELE. ” 156
PL. xvi. SEATED LADY. _C. A. G._ pl. xv. 156
FIG. 62. PORTRAIT OF MYNNO. _C. A. G._ pl. xvii. 157
PL. xvii. STELE OF AMPHOTTO. Photograph 158
FIG. 63. GIRL WITH DOLL. _Journ. Hell. Stud._ VI, pl. B. 159
64. PRIESTESS OF ISIS. Photograph 159
CHAPTER X.
PL. xviii. EUEMPOLUS AND CHILDREN. Photograph 164
FIG. 65. XANTHIPPUS AND CHILDREN. _Museum Marbles_, X, pl. iii. 165
PL. xix. MOTHER AND FAMILY. Photograph 166
xx. CHAERESTRATA AND LYSANDER. Photograph 167
xxi. MICA AND DION. Photograph 167
xxii. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER. Photograph 168
xxiii. DAMASISTRATA. Photograph 169
xxiv. MOTHER AND NURSE. ” 169
FIG. 66. PLANGON FAINTING. _C. A. G._ p. 70 170
PL. xxv. HEGESO. Photograph 172
xxvi. LADY AND ATTENDANT. Photograph 173
xxvii. AMEINICHE. Photograph 173
FIG. 67. PHAENARETE. _C. A. G._ pl. xxxix. 174
PL. xxviii. AMEINOCLEIA. Photograph 175
FIG. 68. SCENE AT TOMB. Benndorf, _Griech. u. Sicil. Vasenb._
pl. xv. 177
69. DOMESTIC SCENE. Heydemann, _Griech. Vasenbilder_, pl. xi. 178
70. FAMILY GROUP. Brückner, _Griech. Grabreliefs_, p. 12 179
71. ” ” ” ” 179
72. STELE OF MYRRHINA. _Gazette Archéol._ I, pl. vii. 180
PL. xxix. ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE. Photograph 181
CHAPTER XI.
xxx. STELE OF EUTAMIA. _C. A. G._ pl. xxviii. 185
FIG. 73. DIONYSUS AS GUEST. Roscher, _Lexikon_, I, p. 2539 190
CHAPTER XIII.
FIG. 74. NEREID MONUMENT (Falkener). Overbeck, _Griech.
Plastik_, II, p. 191 216
75. GABLE OF NEREID MONUMENT. _Ann. dell’ Inst._ 1875,
pl. DE. 217
76. HEROON OF GYEULBASHI. Benndorf and Niemann,
_Heroon von Gjölbaschi-Trysa_, pl. i. 222
77. LION-TOMB, CNIDUS. Newton, _Travels and Discov._ II,
pl. xxiii. 225
CHAPTER XIV.
78. MAUSOLEUM (Mr. Pullan). _Archaeologia_, LIV, p. 281 230
79. ” (Mr. Oldfield). Drawing of Mr. Oldfield 231
CHAPTER XV.
80. SARCOPHAGUS OF THE SATRAP: END. Hamdy Bey et
T. Reinach, _Une Nécropole Royale à Sidon_, pl xxi. 246
81. SPHINXES: LYCIAN SARCOPHAGUS. ” ” pl. xv. 248
82. SARCOPHAGUS OF MOURNERS: END. ” ” pl. vii. 250
83. ALEXANDER SARCOPHAGUS: END. ” ” pl. xxvi. 254
84. ” ” LION-HUNT. ” ” pl. xxxi. 255
85. ” ” A LION. ” ” pl. XX. 257
CHAPTER I
BURIAL CUSTOMS IN GREECE
The burial of the dead was a matter as to which the ancient Greeks had
very strong feelings. When a corpse was not committed to earth or fire,
the unfortunate spirit to which it had served as a dwelling-place was
condemned to find no rest either on earth or in the world of shades, but
to wander unhappily around the spot where it had met its fate, or to
flutter on the verge of the river of death, which it was not permitted
to cross. For such reasons, it was the first and most important duty of
an heir to see that the person whom he succeeded met with due burial. In
war, as a rule, each side buried its own dead; and so great was the
horror at neglect of this pious office, that after a drawn battle the
side which was not in possession of the battle-field would commonly ask
for a truce for the purpose of burying the slain, though it thereby
acknowledged defeat. It is well known how bitterly the Athenians accused
their generals, because their dead were not duly buried after the battle
of Arginusae. When Admetus, in the _Alcestis_ of Euripides, wishes
utterly to cast off his filial relation to his father Pheres, he
threatens that he will not bury him. And when in the _Antigone_ of
Sophocles, Creon forbids the burial of his slain enemy Polynices, the
prohibition is represented as an act of barbarous cruelty, bringing with
it the vengeance of the offended gods. In order to perform the last
rites to her brother, Antigone incurs death. The plot of the last half
of the _Ajax_, which seems intolerably tedious to a modern reader, turns
on the question whether the body of the hero shall receive sepulture or
not.
It is true that all the more serious evils of want of burial were
obviated by an inhumation of a merely formal character. The dead man who
in the ode of Horace[1] begs the passer-by to give him formal or
ceremonial burial, tells him that it will be quite sufficient if he
casts over the body three handfuls of dry earth. If the body of a man
was lost at sea, or otherwise had become undiscoverable, an empty tomb
or cenotaph was erected, and his spirit laid with ceremonies.
In the case of an ordinary death, there was a regular order of
ceremonies, which are detailed in Lucian’s _De Luctu_. To the women of
the house belonged the melancholy duty of washing and anointing the
corpse, and preparing it for burial. In the mouth was sometimes placed
an obolus, the fee of Charon. The body was dressed as if for a wedding
rather than a funeral, in rich and clean clothes; the face was painted,
and wreaths were placed on head and breast. Then took place what was
called the πρόθεσις, or exhibition of the corpse, in order that friends
and relatives might take a last farewell of it. Vase-paintings give us
many representations of the scene. Father and mother, or brothers and
sisters, or children, thronged round the bier with expressions of love
and sorrow, while the dirge of the hired wailing-women resounded through
the house. A terra-cotta tablet of the sixth century, engraved in the
text[2] (Fig. I), gives us a quaint and vivid picture of the room of
death. The dead man, whose face appears, while the rest of the painting
is broken away, is evidently a youth in the bloom of his days, who lies
on the bier, clad in an embroidered garment. Close by his head stands
his mother, ΜΕΤΕΡ, at whose feet is his little sister, ΑΔΕΛΦΕ; a
somewhat older sister stands at the foot of the bier. To the left is a
group of men, the father, ΠΑΤΕΡ, a grown-up brother, ΑΔΕΛΦΟΣ, and two
other men. To the extreme right appears the name, though not the figure,
of the grandmother, ΘΕΘΕ, between whom and the group of men are two
other matrons, carefully distinguished as the aunt and the aunt on the
father’s side, ΘΕΘΙΣ and ΘΕΘΙΣ ΠΡΟΣ ΠΑΤΡ[ΟΣ]. A little child also
appears by a stool quite at the foot of the couch. The letters ΟΙΜΟΙ in
the field represent the wailings of the women.
[Illustration: FIG. 1. LYING IN STATE.]
A beautiful Attic vase of the fifth century (Fig. 2) gives us a less
quaint but more graceful representation of the prothesis[3]. In this
case the corpse is that of a woman, who lies on her bier not merely clad
in green garments, but decked with a necklace. The friends grouped about
her are all women, with hair cut short in sign of mourning, clad in
garments of dark brown, green, or blue. The lady who stands at the foot
of the bier and her neighbour place their hands on their heads in sign
of grief; their dress is that of burgher ladies; no doubt they are the
nearest relatives of the dead. The girl who stands at the head of the
bier is a slave or hired attendant. She is more simply clad, and carries
in one hand a flapper or fan to keep off the flies, in the other a
basket containing fillets or ribbons. A wreath hangs against the wall of
the room. Three small, naked, winged idola hover in the air. They are
doubtless spirits of the dead: but the motive for their presence is not
clear. One might at first be disposed to regard them as merely ready to
receive the departed spirit; the figure nearest to the mouth of the
corpse might even be regarded as the soul which has just taken flight.
But these views scarcely account for the attitude, which is clearly in
each of the three idola a recognized sign of grief. In fact, the close
resemblance of gesture between the lady who stands at the foot of the
bier and the winged figure above her seems to show that they share the
same feeling, which is one of sorrow. But why should spirits grieve at
receiving a companion from the land of the living? The question is not
easy to answer. We may observe that in all scenes of this kind, when
these little sprites are introduced, they are in the same attitude. The
lamentations of the living seem always to awake a responsive echo in
their breasts.
[Illustration: FIG. 2. LYING IN STATE.]
After the laying out, πρόθεσις, came the ἐκφορά, or burial. Early in the
morning the body was taken, decked and clad as it was, and laid on a
wagon, or on a bier to be carried on the shoulders of friends. A
procession was formed, including near friends, musicians, hired
wailing-women, and others who carried the vessels needed for the last
sad rites. To the modern visitor in Greece none of the existing customs
is more striking than that of bearing to the grave bodies decked out and
painted, and looking more like wax images from Tussaud’s than the actual
relics of humanity.
Several monuments of the early period present us with representations of
the ἐκφορά so clear that we can judge with certainty even of its
details. Of these the earliest are vases of the eighth century from the
Dipylon cemetery. One engraved in the _Monumenti_ of the Roman
Institute[4] clearly represents the funeral of a distinguished chief.
The body lies on the top of a lofty bier, supported by four columns,
which again is carried on a car drawn by two horses. Immediately behind
the car come the relatives: and it is accompanied by long strings of
mourners, who are depicted in the childish fashion of the art of the
time as alike naked. The women are distinguished by the breast merely,
the men by swords which they carry at the waist. The geese which seem to
follow the procession are only inserted to fill up vacant spaces in the
design; since there is nothing to which the early vase-painter objects
more strongly than leaving any part of the ground without figures. On
another contemporary vase, published on the same plate, is a scene of
πρόθεσις; the corpse on its bier is surrounded by mourners, who seem to
be sprinkling it with lustral water. These glimpses into the daily life
of pre-historic Athens are very attractive; and the life which they
reveal differs but little from that of the historic Athens of the
Persian wars.
An archaic terra-cotta, here engraved (Fig. 3)[5], gives us a vivid
representation of the appearance of the funeral _cortége_.
[Illustration: FIG. 3. FUNERAL PROCESSION.]
[Illustration: FIG. 4. ARRIVAL AT THE TOMB.]
The corpse is placed on a car drawn by two horses. It is accompanied by
a woman who bears on her head a jar of wine for the funeral libations,
and by two wailing-women who tear their hair as they walk. Behind, comes
a bearded flute-player, and two young men, doubtless the next of kin. A
vase of the sixth century, which also we engrave (Fig. 4), represents a
comparatively modest funeral[6]. The arrival at the tomb is depicted.
The dead man, whose face is uncovered, lies on a bier drawn by two
asses. The procession resembles that of the last representation; the
flute-player, who wears a long white robe, and the next of kin follow
the bier; of the wailing-women, two are perched on the funeral wagon,
other two stand in front of the grave, which appears as a square
erection to the right. The cock who is to form part of the offerings to
the dead stands between two trees which mark the graveyard.
Such was the actual prosaic procession to the grave. But the artists who
painted the white Athenian lekythi, vessels especially made to be placed
in the tomb[7], preferred in their representations of funerals to take
refuge in the realm of imagery and fancy. For the actual carriage of the
body to the place of burial they substitute a poetic fiction. When in
the battles before Troy, Sarpedon fell beneath the spear of Patroclus,
we are told in the _Iliad_ that the gods took charge of his body which
the foeman had despoiled[8].
To Phoebus then his Father spake
Who drives the clouds along,
‘Dear Phoebus go, Sarpedon find
Amid the battle throng,
From purple gore his body lave;
Then bear him far away,
And wash him in the flowing stream,
And in ambrosia lay;
With garments clothe that wax not old,
And let the winged pair,
The brethren Sleep and Death, from thence
His body swiftly bear
To wealthy Lycia’s goodly land,
Where kinsmen shall be fain
To heap the mound and set the stone,
The guerdon of the slain.’
It is thoroughly in accord with the spirit of Greek art that it should
have welcomed and dwelt on the idea thus suggested by the epic poet.
Greek painters and sculptors, like Greek dramatists and lyric poets,
loved above all things to escape from the prosaic details of actual life
into the ideal world of myth and fancy, into the language of which they
translated the facts of every-day existence. On a very beautiful
red-figured vase, ascribed to Euphronius, is represented the bearing
away of Sarpedon’s dead body by Sleep and Death, Sleep being a benign
daemon with yellow hair, Death a dark-haired being of more forbidding
aspect[9]. And after the precedent furnished by Sarpedon, Sleep and
Death have been introduced into scenes on other Greek vases, wherein the
body is not that of any ancient hero, but of an ordinary citizen. We
give an example from an Attic white lekythos[10] (Fig. 5). The dead
body, the eyes of which are not closed in death, is that of a girl, who
is borne to the resting-place indicated by a sepulchral stele by two
winged figures, of whom the bearded one is doubtless Death and the
younger, or beardless, Sleep. The god Hermes, as conductor of souls, is
present to preside at the deposition at the tomb.
The twin brethren Sleep and Death belong to poetry rather than to real
belief. And it is the bodies, not the spirits, of the dead which they
bear to the last resting-place. Other Athenian lekythi represent the
journey of the soul to the land of shades, under the guidance of Hermes
or in the boat of Charon. With these pictures I will deal in the third
chapter, which treats of Greek beliefs as to the future life. Meantime
we must follow the funeral procession to the cemetery.
In the Homeric age the bodies of fallen chiefs were burned with much
ceremony, and funeral games celebrated at their tombs. The classical
instance is the burning of the body of
[Illustration: FIG. 5. DEPOSITION AT THE TOMB.]
Patroclus in the _Iliad_. But even at that time it is doubtful whether
so expensive a method of disposing of the body was at all universal. In
historical times, as may be abundantly proved from ancient writers and
from existing remains, the customs of burning and of burying flourished
together. Distinguished and wealthy men commonly had their funeral
pyres, but the bodies of the Kings of Sparta, for example, when they
died abroad, were embalmed and carried home for burial, instead of being
burned. In various cemeteries of Greece we find sometimes the one custom
most prevalent and sometimes the other. It is unnecessary in the present
place to go beyond this general statement. When the body was buried, it
was not, save very rarely, placed in a sarcophagus of stone, but far
more commonly in a hole in the rock; or a grave was dug in the soil and
a small chamber constructed of slabs of stone or terra-cotta. In case of
burning, a pyre of wood was erected in or near the cemetery, and after
the flames had burned themselves out, the human ashes, which are readily
to be distinguished, were carefully and piously collected and placed in
a vessel of bronze or of earthenware, which might either be buried or
preserved in some hallowed spot in the house.
[Illustration: FIG. 6. PYRE OF PATROCLUS.]
A late vase of Canusium[11] furnishes us with a representation of the
pyre of Patroclus, and of the sacrifices which according to Homer were
performed at it (Fig. 6). In the midst is the pyre of great logs, on
which is heaped the armour of Patroclus. This detail shows, we may
observe, how free are even the later vase-painters in their treatment of
Homeric scenes, for Patroclus’ armour, which Hector had carried off, is
not mentioned in the _Iliad_ as being placed on his pyre. While
Agamemnon pours a libation to the soul of the dead hero, Achilles
plunges his sword into the neck of one of the Trojan captives, while the
rest sit by, awaiting their fate. The inscription beneath, ΠΑΤΡΟΚΛΟΥ
ΤΑΦΟΣ makes the identification certain.
It does not appear that among the Greeks there were any regular
ceremonies as an accompaniment of burial, any ritual of prayer or
dedication. When a public funeral took place it is true that an oration
was delivered at the grave; we have record of orations pronounced by
Pericles and Demosthenes over those who had fallen in battle on various
occasions. Sometimes also there was a funeral feast at the tomb. But in
ordinary cases the mourners seem to have returned immediately after the
burial to partake of the funeral feast at the house of a near relative
or heir of the deceased, who was himself regarded as the host on the
occasion. By thus eating and drinking with the dead, the survivors
entered into a kind of sacred communion with him; speeches were made in
his honour, and libations poured from the cups of which in ghostly
fashion he might partake.
CHAPTER II
THE WORSHIP OF THE DEAD
No Greek custom constituted a larger part of religious cultus than did
the offerings to the dead. And no custom is more frequently portrayed on
ancient vases. Such offerings did not begin merely with the funeral, but
even earlier.
According to the beliefs of most barbarous or semi-barbarous races, the
dead have needs and desires as imperious as those of the living. Indeed,
the life of the next world is regarded as in the main a ghostly
continuation of previous existence, a life marked by the same habits and
requirements as that which men live on earth. But, as the dead man is
less materialist in his needs, his wants may be supplied at smaller cost
and in less completeness.
In many primitive countries we find the dead man living in his tomb as
he had lived in his house, the tomb being often a copy of the house.
There he treasures the goods which were buried with him, and there he
receives the constant homage and frequent gifts of his descendants.
In Greece, as far back as we can trace burial customs, it was usual to
deal liberally with chiefs and warriors when they went to their last
resting-place. Indeed, the further back we go, the greater seems to have
been the liberality. The richest graves yet discovered in Greece are
those of the pre-historic rulers of Mycenae, spoiled by Dr. Schliemann
in 1877. In these sepulchres were found treasures sufficient to stock a
great museum--armour and ornaments of gold, swords and arrows,
drinking-cups and sceptres, every kind of object in which the wealth of
semi-barbarous chiefs is commonly displayed. In the historic age the
profusion is less marked, but we yet find abundant proofs of the
survival of the custom of fully equipping the dead for their existence
in the world of shades. Mingled with human bones are sometimes those of
horses and dogs, slain to accompany their master, sometimes those of
flesh and fowl brought to him for food. Vessels for holding food and
wine and oil are among the ordinary equipment of the tomb, lamps are
very common, and jewelry and coins in which the thickness of the gold is
reduced to that of paper shows the gradual growth of the belief that it
is safe to cheat the dead. Ladies take with them to their graves their
mirrors and the vessels which contained rouge and other necessaries of
the toilet.
In later Greek graves terra-cotta plays a large part. Not only are
vessels of this cheap material substituted for the golden or bronze
vases and cups of early graves, but also loaves and animals of
terra-cotta take the place of more genuine food. And terra-cotta images,
sometimes of deities but more often apparently of mere human beings, are
laid up in store by the corpse, each being broken, perhaps to render it
unfit for the possession of the living. An engraving of a child’s coffin
with its contents, which I reproduce from Stackelberg[12] (Fig. 7), will
give some idea of the abundant contents of the richer Greek tombs. The
symmetrical arrangement of the various vases and of the terra-cotta
images is noteworthy; and as parts only of a human skeleton are present,
it seems that in this case the body was not placed complete in the
coffin, but only the skull, the shin-bones, and other parts of a corpse
which had been for the most part disposed of in some other way.
I have been present at excavations at Terranova in Sicily, on which site
the resting-places of the dead are formed of several slabs of
terra-cotta. Around the skeletons are heaped vases, most commonly of the
lekythos form, with occasional coins and other antiquities. But it would
be a long task to give anything like a satisfactory account of the
contents of tombs in various parts of the Greek world. Every district or
city follows its own customs in the matter.
[Illustration: FIG. 7. CHILD’S COFFIN.]
We turn to the sacrifices brought to the tomb. While the burial was
taking place, the friends of the deceased threw into the grave
terra-cotta figures, vases and the like, breaking them as they threw
them. Such at least is the usage traced by Messrs. Pottier and Reinach
at Myrina, and they observe that proofs of the existence of a similar
custom have been found at Tanagra and Kertch[13]. Libations would take
place at the same time from the vessels carried to the tomb for the
purpose, as well as afterwards at the funeral feast.
Thenceforward at set seasons sacrifices were offered at the tomb. These
seasons were, the third day after burial, τρίτα, the ninth day, ἔνατα,
the thirtieth day, which came at the end of the mourning, besides the
νεκύσια or general feast of the dead, corresponding to the All Souls’
Day of the Middle Ages, and the γενέσια or birthday of the deceased[14].
And such sacrifices were also made at irregular times, when any portent
or significant dream made the survivors suppose that their ancestors
were displeased with them. At the beginning of the _Choëphori_ of
Aeschylus, of the _Electra_ of Sophocles, and of the _Electra_ of
Euripides, mention is made of sacrifices at the tomb of Agamemnon,
offered by Clytemnestra in consequence of a dream, which had disturbed
her mind. In the _Iphigeneia in Tauris_ of Euripides, Iphigeneia
prepares, also in obedience to a dream, to sacrifice to the spirit of
her brother Orestes, whom she supposes to be dead.
These passages from the great dramatists exhibit the Athenian custom of
the fifth century B.C. How late this custom lasted in Greece may be
shown from the language of Lucian, in the second century A.D. Speaking
with contempt of the popular beliefs, he writes[15]: ‘People fancy that
souls rising from below dine as they can, flitting about the smell and
the steam, and drink the honeyed draught from the trench.’ Again, in
another place[16], Lucian writes: ‘The shades are nourished by our
libations, and by the offerings at the tomb; so that those who have no
friend or relative left on earth, live foodless and famished among the
rest.’
The offerings brought to the dead were of a simpler and less sumptuous
character than those dedicated to the gods. Through Greek history they
tended to become less costly. In the _Iliad_ Achilles sacrifices to the
spirit of Patroclus not only horses and dogs, oxen and sheep, but also
twelve Trojan prisoners. At the taking of Troy, according to the legend,
Polyxena was sacrificed on the tomb of Achilles. Not only did the custom
of sending slaves to attend a dead chief, and horses for him to ride,
die out, but the food of the dead became much less solid than beef and
mutton. The laws of Solon forbade the sacrifice of oxen to the dead[17].
As late as the sixth century, an inscription of Ceos[18] speaks of
sacrifice at tombs according to the old ritual; but after that time more
serious sacrifices were reserved for actual heroes and exceptional
tombs. A black ox, for example, was annually offered to the heroes of
Plataea down to the time of Plutarch[19], with wreaths and fillets.
Ordinary souls had to be content with something much simpler; cakes and
flowers, with wine, honey, and milk, sometimes a fowl or a few eggs,
sufficed for their somewhat ethereal needs. But in early, and still more
in later times, the survivors would sometimes try to show their respect,
in exceptional cases, by a great display of grief and by costly
sacrifices.
Excavations sometimes reveal to us traces not merely of presents brought
to the dead, but of actual sacrifices made to them. For example, when
the mound which covered the bodies of those who fell at Marathon was
recently excavated[20], traces were found in broken vessels and animals’
bones of the feast held by the survivors at the time of the burial, as
well as a trench cut to receive offerings, and considerable masses of
ashes, dating no doubt from the yearly sacrifices which in the month of
Boedromion the people of Athens offered in gratitude to the heroes who
had first dared to look the Mede in the face.
In historic Greece there were recognized heroes of every grade of
dignity and importance. A few, such as Amphiaraus and Trophonius,
rivalled the gods in their functions, in the number of their
worshippers, and the splendour of their shrines. Others, such as Aeacus
at Aegina, and Jason at Pherae, were venerated as semi-divine
progenitors and supernatural defenders of the cities against all
enemies. Others, such as Pelops at Olympia, and Hyacinthus at Amyclae,
had tombs in close connexion with some of the most frequented and highly
appreciated shrines of the Greek world. But beside these more dignified
members of the clan of heroes there stood many whose influence and whose
worship belonged only to a locality, to a clan, or a family. The Dorians
in particular[21], like all conservative races, carried the worship of
deceased parents and ancestors to the furthest point. But all over
Greece there were small heroa or chapels belonging to families, the
cultus of which was merely an extension of the worship which made sacred
the domestic hearth. In modern cemeteries, and more especially in those
of France, the tombs are frequently adorned with wreaths of real or
artificial flowers, with crosses and designs of beadwork or with
religious pictures. So in Greece it was usual to see in the
neighbourhood of the tombs of those who had recently passed away, or who
had left behind them many friends, the traces of libations, wreaths of
flowers, sashes of various colours, even pieces of armour or other more
solid gifts which were protected against theft by the sacred character
of the spot.
Serious sacrifices to the dead are, as we shall see in a future chapter,
a frequent subject of votive tablets and even of actual sepulchral
reliefs. The lighter and less solemn offerings to the dead are commonly
depicted on white Attic lekythi, which were specially made to be placed
in graves, and which take their subjects from that use.
[Illustration: FIG. 8. OFFERINGS AT A TOMB.]
The simplest of these vase-paintings consist merely of representations
of a gravestone, bound with sashes or with wreaths, on either side of
which stands a survivor, male or female, holding a basket, wreaths, a
sash, or the like. In our example (Fig. 8)[22] from a vase of Eretria in
the Museum of Athens, the stele is truncated by a licence in drawing,
but the relief on it, a woman seated on a chair and holding out a bunch
of grapes to a seated boy, is similar to many of the groups in our
plates. A mirror is represented as hung on the wall: this no doubt
stands for a part of the marble relief. On one side of the stele stands
a young man leaning on a staff, who seems to be directing a maiden who
stands on the other side, where she shall place two wreaths which she
carries. Our engraving makes no attempt to reproduce the brilliant
colouring of the original, in which the dresses of the seated lady of
the relief and the standing girl who ministers at the tomb are bright
red, the garment of the youth brown, and the hair of all the figures a
golden brown. In some of these scenes, the stele is hung with more
serious offerings than flowers: sometimes a lekythos is suspended from
the top or placed on the steps: in some cases, a sword is slung round it
by means of a baldric[23]. Sometimes the attendant girls bring elaborate
toilet-vases and flasks of oil.
By a curious convention, often the dead person is introduced into the
scene, seated on the steps of the basis which supports the sepulchral
slab, between the two ministrants. In one case[24] a lady thus seated
holds on her finger two little birds, perhaps an indication of a
sacrifice, ‘a pair of turtle-doves or two young pigeons.’ On other vases
she holds an oil-flask or a toilet-vase. Sometimes, especially if the
person represented be a man, he holds a lyre[25]. In our example (Fig.
9) of this curious scheme, a ghost is seen flitting through the air, and
one of the attendants brings a little bird. The precise meaning of the
lyre has been doubted. M. Pottier thinks that it represents music played
before the dead, as part of their cultus. But this, of course, assumes
the seated person to be a survivor, and we shall presently show this
view to be untenable. It is, however, well known that to be able to play
on the lyre as it passed from hand to hand at banquets was part of the
training of the Athenian gentleman. It may well seem then that the
musical employment of the dead man is merely an instance of the general
rule that the Athenians loved to represent their dead in some employment
which had been a favourite and characteristic one when they lived. And
this view is confirmed by the occurrence on an early stele of the figure
in relief of a man carrying a lyre[26].
[Illustration: FIG. 9. SPIRIT SEATED ON STELE.]
That the seated personage who plays the lyre if a man, or who if a woman
holds a tray of offerings or a lekythos, is not a survivor but a dead
person, may be readily shown by a comparison of certain vase-paintings.
For an example we may take two lekythi figured on one plate[27] in the
_Sabouroff Collection_. On one of these is represented a young man
seated beside a stele, playing on a lyre which he holds, while an
attendant girl brings him a sash or fillet. On the other the stele is
absent, and the scene, which is given in the text
[Illustration: FIG. 10. TOILET SCENE, SEPULCHRAL.]
(Fig. 10), seems one taken from daily life. A lady, fully draped, is
seated on a chair; in her lap rests a flat box containing sashes; a
maid-servant comes to her holding a smaller box with open lid, probably
a casket of jewelry. This last scene is closely like many of the Attic
sepulchral reliefs[28], and the artist who painted it can scarcely have
had in his mind any other intention than that of representing a lady who
had died. The former scene must be of parallel significance; and the
man seated with the lyre can scarcely be other than the proprietor of
the stele beside which he sits.
[Illustration: FIG. 11. GIFTS AT TOMB.]
We add, from a late vase in the British Museum[29], a very interesting
sepulchral group (Fig. 11). The tomb is in the form of a pillar with
acanthus ornament at the base, resting on a flat slab or table[30]. This
latter is heaped up with vases and sashes, the gifts of survivors. Among
these gifts stands a female figure in sorrowful attitude, either a
statue of the deceased, or more probably herself in spiritual presence.
On one side a man raises his hand in greeting or adoration, on the other
approaches a girl bearing some offering.
CHAPTER III
BELIEFS AS TO THE FUTURE LIFE
The group of vase-paintings with which we dealt in the last chapter
raises a curious question. In all, or almost all, of them the locality
is clearly implied by the presence of a stele in the background. The
offerings which they represent were made, it seems, at the tomb itself.
Is it not, however, a strange thing that wealthy and educated Athenians
should suppose the souls of the dead to have nothing better to do than
to rest beside the tomb, and there await the offerings of survivors? Did
they not believe in a region of the dead, a kingdom of Hades, where the
bad were punished and the good received the recompense of their merits?
And if so, how could the souls of the departed be at the same time in
Hades, and in the neighbourhood of the graveyard? In order to find a
solution for these difficulties we must give some account of the views
of ordinary Greeks, at different periods of the national history, in
regard to the life after death, and the condition of the departed.
We must begin our examination of Greek belief as to the future life by
turning to the Homeric poems. The outlines of the psychical doctrine
which these contain has been traced with masterly hand by Dr. Erwin
Rohde[31], whose conclusions agree well with all that we have of late
learned from history and archaeology as to the Homeric age and
literature.
It is only superficial theorizing which will find in the Homeric poems
the ordinary barbaric views as to the nature of the soul and the future
life. Primitive elements there may be in the Homeric beliefs on these
subjects; but these primitive elements are mostly of the nature of a
survival. The Homeric poems belong to a race of singular gifts and
remarkable intellectual capacity, a small clan or aristocracy which had
by the force of inborn genius penetrated to views in all matters of
practical wisdom which must be considered decidedly advanced. Like the
_Vedas_ of India and the _Zend Avesta_, the _Iliad_ and the _Odyssey_
are the flowers of special developments of civilization, of the culture
of pure-blooded clans, which had worked their way forward, amid
surrounding barbarism, to a comparatively civilized survey of the world
and of mankind.
The notion which is the common property of barbarous peoples, that the
dead dwell among the living, and constantly interfere for good and for
evil in their affairs, that they must be appeased by constant sacrifices
and receive their share of all increase,--this notion has indeed left
traces in the Homeric poems, but they are slight. It rather shows
through the psychology of Homer than regulates or inspires it.
The intellectual aristocracy of Homer has in this matter a strong bias
towards scepticism. It is really remarkable how nearly the Homeric
theories of the soul correspond with the facts recorded by that cautious
and sceptical body of inquirers, the Psychical Society.
The psyche to Homer is not in the least like the Christian soul, but is
a shadowy double of the man, wanting alike in force and in wisdom. It
has no midriff, but lives as dreams live; appearing to the living in
visions, sleeping or waking, but without power. While the body of a dead
man remains unburnt or unburied, his ghost wanders about the place of
death: when the body has received due meed of funeral rites, the spirit
departs to the land of shades, never to return, nor to vex the
survivors.
The realm of Hades appears in the more antique parts of the poems of
Homer as a land where shades dwell under the rulership of King Hades and
august Persephone, living a life which is a sort of reflex and corollary
of the past. Orion, the mighty hunter, still pursues in that land the
spectres of wild beasts over the meadows of asphodel. Agamemnon still
deplores his sad fate, Ajax will not be reconciled to his enemy
Odysseus, Achilles lives on the memory of his past exploits, and rates
the life of the greatest heroes in Hades as beneath that of the meanest
serving-man on earth. Even these shadowy passions do not stir the hearts
of the dead until they have drunk of the blood of the sacrifice, and
their vital force is thus in some degree renewed. To Teiresias alone,
says Circe, has Persephone granted that even after death he shall have
living sense, while the rest flit like shadows.
It is quite clear that this view, which removes the dead to Hades, and
deprives them of all sense and power, is not to be reconciled with some
of the customs of Homeric cultus, especially with the offering of
victims, animal and human, at the tombs of heroes. This, however, is not
strange: cultus has infinitely greater power of persistence among men
than mere speculative beliefs; and among peoples of all religions we
find a want of harmony between the religious belief and the religious
custom which needs explanation. Homer does not fear the dead; but the
burial customs described in his poems must have arisen at a time when
the dead were greatly feared, and regarded as meddlesome in human
affairs.
And this marked inconsistency which we find in the Homeric age persists
throughout Greek history. The customs of the cultus of the dead are, as
we have seen, persistent among all Greek tribes, though more fully
appreciated by some than others, and remain in force down to the very
decline of Paganism. But at the same time speculation as to the world of
spirits and the condition of the departed went on, on lines almost
independent of custom and cultus. If the dead were safe in Hades they
could not also live in their tombs; why then take offerings thither? If
their life was the life of dreams and of shadows, why did they need
food, both animal and vegetable, and abundant drink? This is
sufficiently obvious to us. Yet Greek belief in all ages must have found
some means of reconciling theory and cultus, and of preventing the
course of speculation as to the state of the departed from interfering
with the practical piety of the worship of ancestors.
We are able to follow, at all events in outline, the gradual development
of the belief in Hades among the Greeks. The voyage of Odysseus to Hades
in the _Odyssey_, whatever may be its date (a somewhat doubtful point),
shows us that belief at a very early and incomplete stage. The main
interest of the author of the _Odyssey_ is evidently to give a glimpse
at the later fortunes of some of the principal personages of the
_Iliad_; though with this he includes a curious vision of fair women,
Tyro, Alcmena, and Leda and the like. He accomplishes his purpose by
taking the widely wandering Odysseus to Hades under the pretext that he
will there learn how best he may win back to his native Ithaca. To Homer
Hades is not, as in later belief, situated beneath our feet. Odysseus
has to reach it by sailing to the confines of the ocean, to the land of
the Cimmerians, enveloped in mist and cloud, where the bright rays of
the sun do not shine. When he reaches the groves of poplar and willow,
amid which flow the rivers Acheron and Pyriphlegethon and Cocytus, he
digs a trench, and makes sacrifices to the dead, offering libations and
barley-cakes, and slaying a ram in honour of Teiresias. No sooner is
this done than the spirits of the dead begin to flock about him, and
those whom he permits to drink of the blood of his sacrifice can answer
his questions and inform him of their fate. The only class of persons
whom Homer represents as punished in Hades are perjurers, perhaps
because their punishment on earth was so problematic. But a few noted
criminals of legend, such as Tityus and Tantalus, are also represented
as undergoing a chronic punishment.
Hades, however, is by no means the only dwelling-place of souls known to
the authors of the Homeric poems. Every scholar is familiar with the
beautiful lines in which Proteus foretells the future destiny of
Menelaus[32].
In Argos’ horse-abounding plain
To die is not thy fate,
O Menelaus, there for thee
No mortal chances wait.
Thee shall the immortals far away
To earth’s remotest end,
Where fair-haired Rhadamanthys dwells
In Plains Elysian, send.
There life flows on in easy course,
There never snow nor rain
Nor winter tempests vex the land;
But Ocean sends amain
Fresh Zephyr breezes breathing shrill
To cool the untroubled life.
There dwell, since thou art kin to Zeus,
And Helen is thy wife.
In dealing with the Homeric poems we can never escape the difficulties
as to chronology and genuineness which at present envelop the whole
Homeric question, on its literary side, like a thick mist. Dr. Rohde
thinks that this passage is of later date than that which describes the
voyage to Hades of Odysseus. The last line has a curious ring. Menelaus
is to be rescued from the common fate, not for any virtue or merit of
his own, but because he is the son-in-law of Zeus. We are reminded of
the still more aristocratic belief of certain existing races of
barbarians, who think that a happy state in the future life is reserved
for the chiefs and those of high lineage.
According to the Cyclic Poets, the Islands of the Blessed were destined
not for Menelaus only, but for others of the heroes who fought at Troy.
In the _Aethiopis_, Eos (the Dawn) is allowed not merely to bear away
her dead son Memnon, as Sarpedon had been borne away by Sleep and Death,
but to awake him again to an immortal life. In the same poem, Thetis is
represented as carrying off the body of Achilles from the funeral pyre,
and transporting it over the sea to a new life in the island of Leuce,
the white island, which popular fancy placed in the Euxine sea. In the
_Works and Days_ of Hesiod all the godlike heroes who fought at Troy are
said to dwell still in the Islands of the Blessed. Odysseus after his
death was said to have been translated to the island of Aeaea. And an
Athenian drinking-song of about B.C. 500 tells how Harmodius and
Aristogeiton, who slew the Tyrant and restored liberty to the Athenians,
are not dead but dwell in the Happy Isles with Diomedes and swift-footed
Achilles.
It may be doubted how far the Islands of the Blessed, the Elysian
Fields, and the Realm of Hades are really distinct in Homeric geography.
All seem to be reached by a voyage across the sea in the direction of
the setting sun. Subsequent poets, however, gradually determine and map
out the land of the dead. It is a conjecture, the truth of which is more
than probable, that the great teacher of the lore of the future world
was Orphism.
Orphism is one of the most important, but at the same time one of the
most obscure phases of ancient religion. The original documents of the
sect have perished, and forgeries have taken their place. It is only by
putting together a number of occurrences, and collecting phenomena from
all quarters, that we are able even to conjecture the tenets and
observances of the Orphists; yet it seems certain that they exercised a
deep and long-continued influence on the development of religion in
Greece. We first clearly trace their activity in the sixth century B.C.,
when Onomacritus, a contemporary of Peisistratus at Athens, committed to
writing much of their lore, and when Pythagoras attempted to found among
the Greek cities of Southern Italy something like an Orphic church. Yet
from what we learn as to Orphism, we see that it must contain elements
handed down from a barbaric and primitive state of religion. It was
essentially mystic and ecstatic in character. Zagreus, who was a form of
Dionysus, was the principal object of Orphic worship,--the young god who
was torn to pieces by the wicked hands of Titans, but restored to life
by the favour of Zeus and Athena. By mystic communion with Zagreus, who
was regarded as the ruler of the dead, the votary escaped from the
trammels of the flesh, became pure and chaste, and fit for a nobler
existence hereafter. Of course, in this religion, as in all, mere ritual
tended to encroach on the religion of conduct; it was supposed by many
that a mere partaking in mysterious rites would secure for them a
favourable reception in the world of shades, and a verdict of acquittal
from the stern judges of the dead.
It is certain, as I have already observed, that this ecstatic form of
religion contains primitive elements. Anthropology has informed us that
the wizard or medicine-man among savage tribes commonly acquires and
retains his influence by means of trances or ecstasies, in which he
professes to be inspired by the spirits of the dead. This is the
original germ whence all ecstatic religion takes its rise; though, of
course, it may reach a high moral level under some circumstances, and
tend greatly to the help and elevation of mankind. What was the precise
ethical level of the Orphic religion it is very hard to say.
However, we are at present concerned only with one aspect of
Orphism--its lore as to the world of spirits. It is believed that this
lore gradually works its way into current literature and art. After we
leave the Homeric age, the next important landmark in the history of
Hades is to be found in the great painting of Polygnotus in the Leschè
or arcade of Delphi. Of this picture we possess so careful and detailed
a description from the pen of Pausanias[33] that a skilled
archaeologist, Professor Robert, has succeeded, with the help of certain
vase-paintings of Polygnotan style, in restoring, figure for figure, the
whole composition, with a sureness of hand which may well surprise those
who do not realize the degree in which the scientific methods of
archaeology have been developed in recent years.
In the upper part of the picture is a group which is almost a transcript
from the _Odyssey_: Odysseus sword in hand over his trench, the unburied
Elpenor behind him in sailor’s dress, and Teiresias and Anticleia
approaching to hold converse with him. But this group seems somewhat
apart from the rest of the scene, which is composed of elements mostly
foreign to the Homeric circle of ideas. On the left is the river
Acheron, full of reeds and peopled with shadowy fish; on which floats
the bark of the ferryman Charon, who is taking to their last home the
spirits of a man and a girl. Pausanias observes that Polygnotus has
borrowed Charon from the epic poem called the _Minyas_, in which the
voyage to Hades of Theseus and Peirithous was narrated. Whencesoever
Charon may have originally come, he certainly held a great place in the
beliefs of the later Greeks. The obol, his fee, was sometimes placed in
the mouth of the dead. In later writers, such as Virgil and Lucian, he
is very prominent. Some of the sepulchral lekythi, of which I have
spoken already, furnish us with a representation of the River of Death
and the boat of Charon. One here
[Illustration: FIG. 12. THE BOAT OF CHARON.]
copied (Fig. 12) from a vase at Athens[34], presents a most curious
scene. Charon, a being of traditional ugliness, clad in sailor’s cap and
short chiton, drives his boat to the bank by means of a pole. He is
awaited by a girl who bears in her hands her favourite bird, a goose,
while a box for the toilet rests on a rock, and near it sits a young
child. This flitting to the world of shades has quite a domestic aspect:
it seems that Charon was expected to convey not only passengers, but
also as baggage the offerings brought to them at the tomb. Sometimes the
boat of Charon appears in these vase-paintings in close proximity to the
stele of the grave; and the dead wait for him on the steps of the
stele[35]. On another vase, Hermes, with herald’s staff, leads the soul
down to the edge of the river[36].
It is a well-known fact, though one not easy to explain, that Charon,
under the form Charuns, figures as the messenger of death in several of
the mural paintings of Etruscan tombs. He is there depicted as a hideous
monster, with hooked nose, sometimes winged, wielding an axe, and
entwined with serpents. That the mild and quiet Charon of the Greeks
should have his counterpart in a fierce and deformed daemon in the more
monstrous pantheon of Etruria is quite natural; but it is less clear
whence the Greeks and Etruscans originally borrowed their respective
divinities.
We must, however, resume our description of the picture of Polygnotus.
About the entrance of Hades cluster the transgressors whose punishment
is eternal. They are very few in number: the parricide, the
temple-robber, and such noted personages of legend as Tityus, who is
devoured by a vulture after the fashion of Prometheus. Next we reach a
group of fair women, who must indeed have been delightful creations
under the hands of the most dignified and majestic of all
painters--Ariadne and Tyro, Procris and Chloris. For some who had to be
punished a most gentle meed of punishment is provided. Phaedra in her
lifetime, as is well known, was inspired with a disastrous passion for
her stepson Hippolytus, and after his death she went and hanged herself.
In the painting of Polygnotus, as Pausanias observes, ‘Phaedra is borne
through the air on a swing, and holds the ropes on each side in her
hands: this attitude, in spite of the extreme gentleness of the
allusion, refers to the manner of her death.’ Near the group of women
Theseus and Peirithous are seated. They had dared, with overweening
impiety, to make their way into Hades, in order to carry off Persephone,
Queen of the Shades. But they were made prisoners by the nether powers
and kept in chains. Such a fate for heroes of the race of the gods
naturally seemed to Polygnotus too harsh. In his picture they merely
keep their seats. So Virgil writes, ‘Sedet aeternumque sedebit infelix
Theseus.’ Pausanias quotes Panyasis, a late Epic poet, to the effect
that Theseus and Peirithous on their seats did not appear to be
prisoners, but really the rock grew to their flesh in the place of
bonds. But Polygnotus was content with a mere hint: in his painting
nothing indicated either bondage or torture. Near by are Cameiro and
Clytie, daughters of Pandareus. In the _Odyssey_ Penelope tells how they
were carried away by the fierce storm-winds and given to the hateful
Erinnyes. But Polygnotus will know nothing of the Erinnyes. He merely
represents the girls as crowned with flowers and playing with astragali
or knuckle-bones. The storm-winds seem to have done them little harm.
Presently we come to the central part of the picture. It is occupied by
the grove of Persephone, represented in the sparing fashion of Greek
painting by a single tree, under which sits Orpheus, his lyre in his
hands. No doubt we have here the key to the picture. Orpheus is the
central figure of the whole. To Polygnotus he is not merely a departed
hero, but priest and hierophant. The song which he sings is the mystic
song of immortality. About him there cluster the heroes who fought at
Troy: on the one side Agamemnon, Protesilaus, Achilles, Patroclus; on
the other, Hector, Paris, Memnon, Sarpedon, and Penthesileia, queen of
the Amazons. Paris makes love to Penthesileia, who looks back at him
with contempt. The Greek and Trojan heroes may fight again their battles
in memory; but peace has fallen on them, and they no longer wish to
wield the lance. We need not dwell on other groups: Palamedes and
Thersites busy with the dice; Thamyris, who had once challenged the
Muses, seated in dejection over his broken lyre; the strange apparition
of Marsyas, who teaches the boy Olympus to play the flute; and many
others.
Towards the right end of the painting we again find punishments of a
kind going forward. Sisyphus heaves his rock up the hill. Tantalus
stands up to the chest in water which he may not drink, and clutches at
fruit which eludes his grasp. These punishments had already been
mentioned in the _Odyssey_; Polygnotus adds a rock, which hangs over the
head of the sufferer, ever threatening to fall, but never falling. There
appears also a great cask set in the earth, which it is the fate of an
approaching train ever to try to fill with water from broken
water-vessels. This was, according to tradition, the allotted task of
the fifty daughters of Danaus, who had all save one in one night slain
their husbands. But Polygnotus followed a different account: he calls
the approaching men and women merely ἀμύητοι, uninitiated. Pausanias
observes that they must be those who held in contempt the sacred
mysteries of Eleusis; but this does not seem to be the meaning. They are
ordinary persons, men and women who did not necessarily sin overtly
against the Mysteries, but merely neglected to avail themselves of the
‘means of grace’ offered them by the hierophants of Eleusis, and suffer
in the next world for their carelessness or obstinacy.
The general tone of the painting of Polygnotus bears a close resemblance
to that of the sepulchral reliefs which we shall describe in this book.
This is the less curious, when we consider that the sculptors of the
reliefs were of that Attic school of sculpture which took so much of its
character from Polygnotus. In spirit also the painting is like the
Homeric poems, when they deal with the future life. The cultivated Greek
mind looked for little bliss in the world to come, except such as could
come from the reunion of friends and families, and the memory of past
deeds. Still less did it look for future punishments. These were
ordinarily reserved for the noted criminals of legend. The only classes
which Polygnotus seems to have thought in any peril were the parricides,
the temple-robbers, and the uninitiated. He seems to have thought that
spirits were of the stuff of which dreams are made, and passed an
existence of quiet and gentle melancholy, of which the worst feature was
its exposure to tedium.
There do not appear in the picture of Polygnotus, as in some paintings
which we must presently consider, any malignant beings to act as the
police of the under-world. Not even Cerberus appears. The only spirit of
inauspicious type who is seen is Eurynomus. Pausanias says[37]: ‘The
interpreters at Delphi say that Eurynomus is one of the spirits that
dwell in Hades, and that his office is to devour the bodies of the dead,
leaving only their bones.’ Eurynomus does not appear, adds Pausanias, in
Homer nor in the Cyclic poets. The daemon shows his teeth, and is seated
on the skin of a vulture. Probably it was from the facts just mentioned
that the interpreters at Delphi deduced the function of Eurynomus. But
their opinion goes for little, and the name Eurynomus has nothing to do
with the decay of the flesh. In the time of Polygnotus it was usually
fire rather than decay which made away with the bodies of the dead. This
daemon, who was possibly an archaic form of Hades himself, remains then
unexplained. At any rate, we have no right to regard him as a punisher
of souls. The punishments of Hades, according to Polygnotus, seem to go
on by some law, without present enforcement.
With the Hades of Polygnotus we must compare that which is depicted on a
class of large amphorae which come to us from Apulia in Italy. I have
engraved (Fig. 13) a fair specimen of these vase-paintings, which are
all closely alike, from a vase of Canusium[38].
Here in the centre we have, in place of the sacred grove of Persephone,
the palace of Hades and his Queen. He is seated, and holds a long
sceptre; she carries a torch. The palace has not unnaturally taken the
form of a chapel of the deities; the wheels hung up in the background
seem to be votive offerings. The motive of the whole picture is
curiously twofold. Two visits to Hades, which really took place at quite
different times, are depicted as going on together, the quest of Orpheus
for his lost Eurydice, and the attempt of Herakles to carry off the dog
Cerberus and to rescue his friend Theseus.
[Illustration: FIG. 13. THE GREEK UNDER-WORLD.]
Orpheus stands, lyre in hand, before the chapel of the nether deities.
He is clad in the variegated embroidered robes of the Orientals, with
sleeves down to the wrists and a Phrygian tiara. In the painting of
Polygnotus Orpheus was, as Pausanias expressly states, clad in the
ordinary Greek dress. Later art rejoiced in the picturesque costume of
the Persians and Phrygians: and the Thracian home of Orpheus allowed
artists to consider him as belonging to a semi-Greek, Anatolian race.
Orpheus is evidently using his art to persuade Hades to restore
Eurydice, and that dread deity seems, from the position of his uplifted
right hand, to be addressing him; but Eurydice, in this as in most of
the vase-paintings, is wanting; a curious fact, which may indicate that
the motive of the quest of Orpheus was originally something different.
It seems indeed, as will appear clearly later, that the vase-painter
combines without much skill or purpose groups taken from the works of
older and more thoughtful artists.
In the lowest line Herakles struggles with Cerberus, around whose three
necks he has fastened a chain. Hermes, who carries a herald’s staff,
points out to his brother the road to the upper air, and urges
departure. A more terrifying figure behind Herakles also gives cause for
haste. One of the Poenae or Furies, a female servant of Hades, wearing
hunting-boots and holding over her arm a leopard’s skin, advances with a
torch to defend the realm of the dead against rash invaders. In the
upper line, on the right, a similar figure, with drawn sword, guards the
captives whom Herakles has come to release. Peirithous sits and cannot
rise, but Theseus is standing; so far as he is concerned, the attempt of
the invincible Herakles is successful, and he is allowed to return to
earth.
The other groups which make up the picture have no special connexion
either with Orpheus or with Herakles, and are introduced merely to
complete the picture of Hades. On some of these under-world vases the
names are written over the various persons, so that we can identify them
with ease and certainty. In the upper line to the left is Megara, the
wife of Herakles, and the two children of hers whom their father slew in
a fit of madness. They stand near a spring-house, where water flows from
a lion’s-head fountain. Drops of blood still stand on their breasts. Why
they alone should thus bear in Hades the marks of mortal calamity we
cannot say; nor indeed why they should appear at all as prominent
inhabitants of the land of shades. One is inclined to fancy that some
tale or legend may have connected them with the voyage of their father
to Hades.
Beneath them is a curious domestic group: a young husband who is in the
act of crowning himself with a wreath, a wife, and their little son, who
drags behind him a plaything. It is a veritable scene of the
reconstitution, in the land of shades, of a family endued with perpetual
youth and leisure. Who these people may be is quite uncertain; but it is
reasonable to think that they are such as have undergone initiation, and
whose future life is thus assured. Opposite are the three judges of the
dead, Minos, Aeacus, and Rhadamanthys, or, as some give the name,
Triptolemus. Bearded and venerable figures, they carry long sceptres,
but do not look so stern as one would expect from their terrible
function.
The other scenes, in the two corners below, are of not much more than
geographical import. They show the place to be Hades by introducing some
of the well-known inhabitants of that region. On the left is Sisyphus
uprearing his rock; and lest he should loiter at the task, one of the
Poenae with snakes in her hair urges him with a double-thonged whip; in
her other hand she carries a javelin and leopard’s skin. On the right is
Tantalus, in the dress of an Oriental prince, and still carrying his
sceptre. The Homeric pains have ceased to trouble him; he no longer
stands in water, nor reaches after fruit. But he is still threatened by
the hanging rock.
On other vases of the class, while the general arrangement is the same,
the groups are varied. Peleus and Myrtilus, the faithless charioteer who
arranged his victory at Olympia, sometimes take the place of Theseus and
Peirithous. In the place of Tantalus we have a group of women ever
drawing water, whether they be the Danaides or women who died
uninitiated.
It is likely that all these Apulian vase-paintings go back to some
original of a great painter which was known throughout the Greek world.
An original by Polygnotus it cannot be; the composition is quite unlike
his, and the Oriental garments worn by some of the personages indicate a
different and a later school than his. We know that Nicias, a
contemporary of Praxiteles, made a great picture of the under-world; but
as we know nothing of its details, the inquiry whether this was the
original copied in Italy has no certain basis.
Singularly instructive and suggestive is the comparison of these
Hellenic pictures of the under-world with those which our ancestors of
the Middle Ages painted on the walls and in the windows of their
churches. There we see the ecstatic bliss of the saved, conducted by
angels to the abode of God and the saints, and the fearful tortures
inflicted upon the damned by hosts of hideous and malignant demons, who
bind, burn, tear, and outrage them with fiendish ingenuity. In the
Christian paintings there is no mean, everything is extreme. The destiny
to eternal life or eternal torment seems to hang upon a decision by no
means easy: angels and devils dispute the possession of souls, and the
latter are at least as successful as the former in their raids. Our
ancestors can scarcely have taken these representations as seriously as
we are disposed to take them, or life shadowed by such a terrific future
would have been unendurable. But still they embodied the teaching of the
Church, which few dared dispute, at all events openly. They give us a
glimpse at the terrible moral pressure necessary in order that the
realities of the moral and spiritual life should be burned into the
heart of the European peoples.
In the Greek pictures, on the other hand, nothing is extreme, but
everything is in moderation. Setting aside the torments of a few
legendary heroes, like Tityus and Tantalus, which had little relation to
actual life, there was no torture, as there was certainly no bliss, in
Hades. Between the punishment of the uninitiated and the reward of the
initiated there is not very much difference. Whether Megara and her
children belong to the class of the happy or the wretched we do not
know. They bear the marks of suffering, but as one of the boys carries
the oil-flask and strigil of the athlete, he would seem to pass his time
in Hades as suitably as the little boy of the initiated pair who
trundles his toy. The only unpleasant feeling which is roused by our
vase-painting or the more exquisite Hades of Polygnotus is that its
tenants must suffer from infinite ennui, and the same reproach has been
brought sometimes against the heaven of the Middle Ages. But probably
only highly civilized people learn to realize that ennui may become a
torment.
In particular, we may compare the swarms of black and hideous devils,
with horn and hoof of the mediaeval pictures, with the Greek Poenae. We
can trace the genealogy of these latter from early times. The Oriental
imagination had from very early times delighted in depicting evil
spirits in the form of monsters and winged beasts, who are overcome and
slain by the gods in human form. For winged monsters the Greek artists
of the sixth century had tended to substitute winged human beings of
hideous aspect, Gorgons and Harpies, Eris and Phobos, and the like. It
was Aeschylus who, wishing to bring on the stage in bodily form in his
_Eumenides_ the powers that avenge kindred blood, transformed the
Erinnyes, who had hitherto been worshipped at Athens as the Eumenides
or gentle goddesses, in beautiful and dignified form[39]. He took as his
models the Gorgons and Harpies of earlier art. So he himself tells us in
the _Eumenides_[40], where his priestess thus describes the sleeping
visitors: ‘I call them not women, but Gorgons; yet cannot I quite liken
them to the forms of Gorgons. In a picture once I saw Harpies painted
bearing off the food of Phineus: these, however, are unwinged in aspect,
but black and utterly abominable.’
Pausanias too says, when speaking of the shrine of the Eumenides at
Athens[41]: ‘It was Aeschylus who first wreathed snakes in their hair;
but in their statues there is nothing terrible, nor in the other statues
set up in honour of the nether gods.’ In a series of vase-paintings
which represent the flight to Delphi and the purification of Orestes,
the Erinnyes appear sometimes in Aeschylean guise as women, unwinged,
but with snakes in their hair and of terrible aspect. With these the
Poenae of our vase-painting are almost identical in dress, though the
ugliness is softened down. And as Polygnotus knows not the Poenae, it
seems likely that it was in part the influence of Aeschylus which
introduced them as ministrants of evil in the realm of Hades. But the
Poenae certainly fill very inefficiently the place of the Christian
demons. Greek art loved to soften, to generalize, while mediaeval art
rejoiced, like Dante, in exact detail. Greek art was always ready to
sacrifice precise meaning to beauty and grace, while mediaeval art had
little sense of beauty, but tried to work on the emotions of fear and
horror.
Side by side with the evidence derived from the works of ancient
painters we must place that derived from ancient poets and other
writers. The philosophers are outside our scope, except so far as they
testify to the opinions of ordinary men: to regard the views of Plato
and Epicurus as ordinary Greek opinions would of course be as absurd as
to regard John Stuart Mill or Herbert Spencer as representatives of the
ordinary Englishman.
In ordinary Greek belief, then, we find abundant traces of the eternal
conflict between the priest and the prophet, between ritual and ethics.
There was a general feeling that those who died nobly or after a
well-spent life were sure of a friendly reception in Hades. Xenophon
says of Agesilaus[42], ‘He ever feared the gods, being of opinion that
those who lived nobly were not yet happy, but that those who had died
with good name were at once among the blessed.’ The chorus in the
_Alcestis_ speak of their mistress immediately after her death as a
blessed spirit. And a multitude of epitaphs[43] express the conviction
that those who had lived nobly were sure of a favourable reception from
Persephone. Beside this ethical view we find the opinion of the
sacerdotal party that initiation in the Mysteries or attachment to the
cultus of some deity was necessary for the attainment of future bliss.
This was especially the view of the Orphists, and as such it is
ridiculed by Plato in the _Republic_[44]: ‘They persuade not individuals
merely, but whole cities also, that men may be absolved and purified
from crimes, both while they are still alive and even after their
decease, by means of certain sacrifices and pleasureable amusements
which they call Mysteries: which deliver us from the torments of the
other world, while the neglect of them is punished by an awful doom.’ We
have seen that Polygnotus gives some countenance to those who regarded
the Mysteries as the gate of future happiness. And there was certainly
in Greece a generally spread conviction, which may be well traced in the
_Frogs_ of Aristophanes, that initiation was, if not a passport to
future happiness, at least a safeguard amid the dangers which surround
the soul from the moment of its departure from the body until its final
doom is fixed.
In the mentions of Hades to be found in the Tragedians, it appears more
especially as the place of the reassembling of families. Sophocles’
Antigone expresses a hope of being well received in Hades by the
relations to whom at her peril she has performed the rites of burial.
The Oedipus of Sophocles wants to blind himself in order that in Hades
he may not see the father and mother whom he has so deeply though
ignorantly injured. In the _Agamemnon_ of Aeschylus, Clytemnestra
anticipates the meeting of Agamemnon in Hades with his daughter
Iphigeneia. Hyperides, in his Funeral Oration, takes a somewhat wider
view. He imagines the fallen heroes of the Lamian War as received in
friendly fashion in Hades not merely by their kinsfolk, but by the
worthies of Troy and of Marathon, and by the tyrannicides Harmodius and
Aristogeiton.
As regards the imagery and geography of Hades the ordinary Greeks do not
seem to have greatly troubled themselves. There were the views of poets
and painters, and there were the more definite and dogmatic views of the
professors of Orphic lore. These the people received or neglected as
suited the bent of the mind of each. Hades was a realm of the
imagination, as to the nature of which each man might innocently indulge
his own hopes and aspirations.
In the epitaphs of later times we find, as will be shown in a future
chapter[45], numerous allusions to the realm of Hades and Persephone.
But they do not strike the reader as embodying strong belief; often they
are of an epideictic or rhetorical character, like the statements which
also occur that the soul of the dead has made its way to the Islands of
the Blest or to the abodes of the gods. The beliefs which confined the
spirits of the dead to the tomb and its neighbourhood belong to a lower
and worse-educated stratum of the population, but have more vitality.
Greek religion and tradition knew of many mortals who had gone down
alive into the earth, and there abode, giving for the most part oracles
from their hiding-places. Such was Amphiaraus, the Argive hero, who
after the bootless siege of Thebes went down with chariot and horses
into the ground, and whose shrine was in later times a great oracular
seat. Such was Trophonius of Lebadeia, whose cave is described for us by
Pausanias. Caeneus, when overwhelmed with rocks by the Centaurs,
vanished alive into the earth, and there lived on. It is, in fact, a
marked feature of the cultus of heroes that their power is exercised
only at the place where they disappeared or where their bodies were
laid. They are intensely local, earth-daemons who possess a piece of
land, and whose favour must be conciliated by any one who expects that
land to yield him increase. Pelopidas, in the course of a campaign
against the Spartans[46], unwittingly slept near the graves of some
virgins of Leuctra, who had in old time been violated and slain by the
Spartans. They appeared at night to the Theban general, and promised him
victory if he made them the sacrifice of a foal. This is but one among a
hundred instances of the fact that a hero had power only at his spot of
burial: elsewhere he was helpless.
It is remarkable that this tendency to localization has been in all ages
a mark of the ghost, and still marks him in the cases investigated by
the Psychical Society. Yet the local character of ghosts has not become
an impediment in the way of the acceptance of the Christian doctrines of
Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. Among our ancestors, just as among the
Greeks, beliefs could lie in strata, and inconsistencies between a
belief of one stratum and a belief of another stratum had little
disturbing power. When Campbell writes in his noble address to the
Mariners of England, ‘The spirits of your fathers shall start from every
wave,’ he can scarcely be supposed to deny that the souls of British
naval heroes had found a heavenly resting-place.
Sometimes, however, the Greek mind was disturbed by inconsistencies of
this kind, and evolved a theory for their explanation. Thus a later
interpolator of the _Odyssey_, being scandalized by the assertion of
Odysseus that he saw in Hades the mighty Herakles, adds[47], ‘his ghost
(εἴδωλον) only; since he himself joys amid the delights of the immortal
gods.’ Others supposed that it was only the spirits of the unburied
which hovered around their bodies: and it is an ingenious modern theory
that the custom of burning the bodies of the dead arose out of the
desire to prevent them from disturbing the living. But in spite of
everything, the Greek dead retained to the last their right to levy
tribute on their descendants and friends.
CHAPTER IV
THE PRE-HISTORIC AGE OF GREECE
When we turn from the facts of Greek cult and belief as to a future life
to the monuments of the dead, and set them in chronological order, the
first group which commands our attention is that which belongs to the
pre-historic city of Mycenae. We cannot here speak of the wealth of gold
and silver, of bronze and ivory, which the fortunate spade of Dr.
Schliemann brought to light within the sacred circle in the Acropolis of
the city[48]. We must pass by the contents of the graves of the wealthy
pre-historic monarchs of Mycenae, and confine our survey to the outward
and sculptural adornments of their tombs. These fall into two
well-marked and clearly distinguished classes. First, we have the
conical so-called treasuries, of which several exist in the
neighbourhood of Mycenae, as well as at Orchomenus, Menidi and other
spots of Greece; secondly, we have the carved tombstones which were set
up over the graves in the Mycenaean Acropolis.
The larger and more elaborate of the so-called treasuries of
pre-historic Greece, such as the Treasury of Atreus at Mycenae, and the
Treasury of Minyas at Orchomenus, consist of two chambers, a larger
outer chamber, which is circular in plan and of conical form, resembling
in fact the beehive to which it has often been compared, and a cubical
inner chamber, of much smaller dimensions. The accompanying engraving
will make this clear (Fig. 14). The architect of the Mycenaean tomb had
no small skill. The colossal size of the stones, especially of that over
the door and of some in the dromos or approach, arouses the astonishment
of the modern visitor, who wonders by what machinery and appliances
blocks so colossal were transported from the quarries and placed in
position. The gradual inward slope of the walls, each course of which
somewhat overlaps the course below, is managed with great skill and
accuracy. Rows of nails, some remains of which are still to be seen in
the inner walls, supported, not indeed as some have supposed, a complete
bronze lining to the conical chamber, but rows of stars or other
ornaments, on which would glitter the light of the torches (Fig. 15).
Perhaps the most expressive characteristic of all is the lavish
expenditure of labour on a building which was entirely buried with
earth, and on the magnificent approach built of hewn stones, when
something far simpler and more effective might have been arranged.
Evidently the builders of these monuments thought no trouble and no
expense wasted, if only the dead were honoured and gratified.
[Illustration: FIG. 14. SECTIONAL PLAN OF THE SO-CALLED TREASURY OF
ATREUS[49].]
A simpler form of tomb of the same age and style dispensed with the
square side-chamber, and consisted of a beehive building only. The
engraving (Fig. 16) gives the plan of such a tomb near the Lion Gate of
Mycenae.
[Illustration: FIG. 15. RESTORATION OF INTERIOR OF TREASURY, BY C.
CHIPIEZ[50].]
The excavations of recent years have given us abundant information on
three important points, first as to the architectural decoration of
these splendid memorials of the dead, second as to their purpose, and
third as to their date. On each of these subjects I must briefly touch.
There have been for a long time in the British Museum interesting
fragments from the doorway of the Treasury of
[Illustration: FIG. 16. PLAN AND FAÇADE OF TREASURY[51].]
Atreus, and attempts have been made, on the ground of these fragments
and others once known which have disappeared, to reconstruct the
entrance of the building. Such attempt has best succeeded in the hand of
M. Chipiez[52], who has produced a design at once faithful to the data,
and of noble architectural effect. A more recent discovery is that of
the decoration, in relief, of the ceiling of the side-chamber of the
tomb of Orchomenus, which was excavated by Dr. Schliemann in 1880[53]
(Fig. 17). The pattern of this ceiling bears a close resemblance to some
of the Egyptian patterns in use for painted ceilings, thus giving us a
valuable suggestion as to the origin of the art of the Mycenaean age.
[Illustration: FIG. 17. CEILING OF TREASURY, ORCHOMENUS.]
That the conical underground buildings of early Greece were really
erected as burial-places of the kings and nobles is now certain.
Pausanias, in whose times less was known as to primitive Greece than is
now known, calls the beehive tomb at Orchomenus the treasury of Minyas,
and those at Mycenae the treasuries of Atreus and his sons. And
doubtless they were in a sense treasuries, since in them were stored all
the rich spoils which at that time were so freely bestowed on the great
dead. But primarily they were burial-places, and the use as
treasure-houses was only a derivative one. A few years ago this was a
matter of dispute among the learned, K. O. Müller taking one side and
Welcker the other. But in this case, as in so many others, the spade has
cut the Gordian knot which the wit of man could not untie. Excavation
has brought to light within the beehive grave of Menidi, in Attica, six
skeletons; and at Vaphio, though the bodies which had been buried in the
conical chamber had passed into dust, yet the disposition of the rich
booty which was found buried beneath the floor showed that it was
certainly a sepulchral deposit.
In the case of the more elaborate tombs with two chambers, there can be
little doubt that the smaller side-chamber was that wherein the corpses
were laid, while the outer chamber served for the purposes of the cultus
with which the dead were honoured: thither was brought the tribute of
sacrifice and offering which the dead demanded from the living. But in
those cases where there is a single chamber, the dead rested beneath the
floor of that chamber in the midst of their wealth, their arms and
ornaments and vessels of silver and gold.
A number of recent discoveries, a full account of which would take us
too far from our immediate subject, have helped us to determine the date
of the beehive tombs of early Greece. The earliest date indicated for
them seems to be about the fifteenth, and the latest the tenth, century
before our aera. They belong to the age of the eighteenth, nineteenth
and twentieth dynasties of Egypt, when the land of the Pharaohs was more
than once exposed to invasion by the powerful chiefs of the islands of
the north. As the mists of the past are lifting, we gain a clearer and
clearer view of a somewhat highly developed civilization in Hellenic
lands at a time long before the Greece which is known to us came into
being, of kings before Agamemnon, and palaces older and more splendid
than those described in the Homeric poems. We may venture, though
perhaps not without some trepidation, to ascribe the tombs of which we
have spoken to the Achaean heroes whose fame still echoes in the
earliest poetry of Greece; though it is certain that after their
erection great changes had taken place in the country before the Homeric
poems acquired anything like their present form. Our trepidation arises
from the fact that the last word is certainly not said, nor the last
theory put forth in this matter. The claims of the Carians and the
Pelasgi to the remains of the Mycenaean age find adherents. Mr. Helbig,
in an able recent work[54], has tried to prove that the contents of the
Mycenaean tombs are almost entirely Phoenician. But the verdict of the
majority of archaeologists goes in favour of the Achaeans, and the sober
judgement of M. Perrot has accepted their claims in his great work on
_La Grèce primitive_.
It is supposed by many archaeologists that the graves which were dug in
the rock just within the Lion-gate of Mycenae, those tombs the rich
spoil of which dazzled Europe a few years ago, are of older period than
the beehive tombs. It is not unusual to recognize in the graves of
prehistoric Greece two periods, an older period of rock-cut graves, and
a later of beehive graves. But this distinction rests on no solid proof.
There is no reason for deciding that the contents of the beehive tomb at
Vaphio belonged to a later age than the contents of the Mycenaean
rock-tombs. In the opinion of Professor Petrie, an opinion eminently
worthy of consideration, they belong to an earlier time. Mr. Evans,
another excellent authority, has accepted a view, first put forward by
myself, that the bodies and the treasures found in the rock-graves at
Mycenae had been moved thither, on some alarm of invasion, from an
earlier resting-place in the beehive tombs which lie outside the
acropolis walls of that city. In any case we are justified, in the
present state of knowledge, in declining to recognize the line of
division of which we have spoken. And so we may persist in regarding the
sculptural decorations of the rock-tombs as not earlier than the
architectural decorations of the beehive tombs. Very probably they may
be later, but in any case they belong to the same race and the same age.
Over several of the rock-cut fosses in which the wealth of the early
kings of Mycenae lay mingled with their bones, there was erected, either
at the time of burial or later, an upright slab to mark the spot. Some
of these slabs were plain, but others were carved with reliefs, of which
some account must here be given, as it is desirable to compare them with
the sepulchral reliefs of later Greece.
These slabs were made of the calcareous stone of the district: with time
their surface has naturally suffered, but we can still trace on them the
scenes sculptured by hands evidently quite unaccustomed to dealing with
such materials. The designs are in many cases mere patterns, such as
appear with far greater appropriateness on the gold plates used for the
adornment of the dead. But in a few cases we have transcripts from the
life of the period. Fig. 18[55] represents part of one tombstone. We
here see a warrior charging the foe in a chariot, the horse of which
gallops with an almost preternatural energy. The driver holds with his
right hand the reins, while the left hand grasps the hilt of a sword
slung to his side by a sword-belt. In front of him flies an enemy who
brandishes a leaf-shaped sword. The whole field is occupied by spiral
designs. Fig. 19[56] presents
[Illustration: FIG. 18. TOMBSTONE, MYCENAE.]
a scene still ruder in execution, but similar in design, save that the
enemy is still defiant, instead of in flight, though
[Illustration: FIG. 19. TOMBSTONE, MYCENAE.]
the lance of the charioteer has already pierced him. A third stele (Fig.
20[57]) represents a mixed scene of war and the chase. In the background
a warrior charges in his chariot as before; the enemy has fallen before
him, and lies under the horse’s feet, endeavouring vainly to shelter
himself under his huge shield. In the foreground a lion pursues a stag.
Here it may be doubted whether the lion stands in a close relation to
the charioteer or not. When Rameses II, on the monuments of Egypt,
charges his foes, a lion gallops beside him, and shares in the fray.
Have we some such scene here in imitation of Egyptian art? Or is the
lion merely seeking his own prey? Or is he, as is not impossible, only a
dog?
[Illustration: FIG. 20. TOMBSTONE, MYCENAE.]
All three of these scenes come from slabs erected over one grave at
Mycenae, the fifth. The other slabs with reliefs are in too fragmentary
a condition to be studied to much purpose; and in fact it is to be
feared that the reader may accuse us of somewhat straining evidence in
interpreting these more complete scenes, though in reality none of our
statements is open to much doubt.
We need but carry our thoughts for a minute to the sculptures which
adorned the walls of the palaces of the kings of Assyria, which are full
of the triumphs of those powerful monarchs alike over human foes and the
beasts of the field, in order fully to recognize the meaning of the
Mycenaean reliefs. Here also we doubtless have a court chronicle, though
material and style will not bear for a moment any comparison with the
magnificent records of Nimroud. Here also we may discern the king, in
whose honour the slab was set up, slaying and pursuing his enemies. And
although at Mycenae we are in a time of comparative barbarism, yet at
least for the choice of subject we may find parallels in the later age
of Greece. Dexileos riding down his foe on horseback on the splendid
monument of the Cerameicus (Pl. XII) may be considered a parallel to the
nameless chief of Mycenae who pursues his enemy in the chariot of an
earlier age. But a still closer resemblance of subject is to be found in
monuments of Asia Minor, in the paintings of the sarcophagi of
Clazomenae, which date from the sixth century[58]. On these we have
frequent battle scenes, and chiefs riding in two-horse chariots occur.
The graves of Lycia and the sarcophagi of Sidon also preserve in their
reliefs extracts from the lives of the chiefs buried in them, of their
military expeditions, hunting exploits and domestic enjoyments.
The extraordinary inferiority of the sculpture of Mycenae in comparison
either with the architecture of walls and gates, or with the working of
the gold and silver cups and ornaments found in the tombs, may at first
surprise us. But in spite of this inferiority, there are touches of
similarity between the representations on the stone and those in the
metal plates which show them to belong to one age. We may account best
for the curious discrepancy by reflecting how very closely art is
dependent on material. The artists of Mycenae were evidently used to
gold and metal work. They had learned to adapt their devices perfectly
to a material which could be engraved and hammered. But to making
reliefs in stone they were clearly quite unaccustomed. No mason who
thought as a mason would attempt so absurd a task as the working out on
stone of these spiral and interlaced patterns. They are taken straight
from metal to limestone. And complete ignorance of the art of working in
relief is shown also in the way in which the scenes are executed, each
figure being quite flat, and the outlines only made clear against the
ground of the relief. A distant report of reliefs in stone to be found
in the lands of the far east and the south seems to have reached the
workmen of Mycenae, and set them to work, when they naturally carried
with them into the new branch of art the style of the _repoussé_
metalwork which was familiar to them. Even the Lion Gate of Mycenae,
though a work of a character very superior to that of the tombstones, is
very weak on the side of technique.
CHAPTER V
ASIA MINOR: EARLY
After the heroic or Achaean age we find in all branches of Greek history
a marked break. Some great cataclysm in Greece, in all likelihood the
Dorian conquest of Peloponnesus in the eleventh and tenth centuries,
separates the age which is called Mycenaean from historic times. The
young tree of Hellenic civilization had produced a few flowers, but a
long period of comparative barbarism had to pass before it obeyed a
second time the call of the season and brought forth mature fruit. This
course of events is clearly mirrored in the graves of Greece Proper. The
tombs of the later Mycenaean age, which have been discovered in great
abundance, especially at Mycenae itself, are far less rich than those of
the earlier period. And not only are their contents less plentiful and
less interesting, but they present us with no external adornment which
should justify us in here dwelling upon them. As our subject is the
outsides rather than the insides of sepulchral monuments in Greece, we
must pass almost in silence over a long period of time, and begin again,
amid quite different surroundings, on the threshold of the Olympiads,
and of Greek history as opened to us by Herodotus.
There can be little doubt that if excavations were carried out on a
large scale on the coast of Asia Minor, amid the early Aeolic and Ionic
settlements, we should be able to bridge the gap now existing between
pre-historic and historic Greece. Doubtless by degrees the lacuna in
our knowledge will be filled up. But at present it remains a lacuna.
Before however we proceed to an account of the cemeteries of the great
cities of Greece Proper, of Sparta and Athens and Thebes, we must glance
at the tombs erected in semi-Greek districts of Asia, such as Phrygia
and Lycia, in honour of the wealthy kings who there bore sway. Greek
history may, in a sense, be said to begin with the Mermnadae of Lydia,
and all our histories of Greek art contain a chapter on the archaic
monuments of Lycia.
A great part of the interior of Asia Minor is full of rock-sculptures,
carved partly in the service of religion, partly as a record of the
dead. Much of this sculpture is of great but unknown antiquity, and less
closely related to any Hellenic work than to that of the races of Syria
and Mesopotamia. The best general account of these remains will be found
in the fifth volume of Perrot and Chipiez’ _Histoire de l’Art dans
l’Antiquité_. It is only necessary in the present work to mention a few
groups of monuments of a later time, which may be advantageously
compared with early Greek monuments.
Pausanias, who was well acquainted with the Ionian coast, tells us that
he had seen[59] on Mount Sipylus a notable tomb ascribed by tradition to
Tantalus, son of Zeus and Pluto (Πλούτω), and father of Pelops, who gave
his name to the Peloponnesus. This monument has been identified[60] in a
tumulus of which the remains still stand on a spur of Sipylus. It was
excavated, and partly destroyed, by M. Texier, whose drawings, which are
here repeated, give us a notion of its original form and disposition
(Fig. 21).
Save for the fact that it was not covered with earth, but stood free,
this tumulus bears a striking resemblance to the tombs at Mycenae and
Orchomenus. And the chamber within
[Illustration: FIG. 21. TUMULUS ON SIPYLUS.]
[Illustration: FIG. 22. SECTION OF CHAMBER[61].]
(Fig. 22) in many points of construction recalls the chamber of the
beehive tombs, though its ground plan is not circular like theirs, but
oblong. It is certainly remarkable to find, in the very district whence,
according to the legends, Pelops came, a tomb so closely resembling
those said to have been erected in Greece by his sons and grandsons.
This however leads us to historical questions into which we must not at
present enter.
[Illustration: FIG. 23. TOMB OF MIDAS.]
The inner lands of Phrygia also furnish monuments parallel to those of
Mycenae. In the neighbourhood of Kumbet, Leake found a large necropolis
containing many tombs of ancient Phrygian kings and notables, some of
which are remarkable for their architecture, and some for their
sculpture. And here we are not dependent upon mere tradition, for the
most notable tomb of the group bears an inscription in Phrygian, stating
that it was set up by Atys in honour of Midas the king (Fig. 23). M.
Perrot has allowed me to reproduce here a drawing of this tomb, made by
M. Tomaszkievicz from a photograph taken by Mr. Blunt[62].
[Illustration: FIG. 24. GEOMETRICAL FAÇADE OF TOMB.]
Several other façades adorned with patterns of a similar character have
been found in the same district by recent travellers, especially Mr. W.
M. Ramsay. These also in most cases adorned tombs, though perhaps in
some cases the tombs were but cenotaphs and did not contain actual
remains. We repeat an engraving (Fig. 24) of a carved front, which seems
of a somewhat later date than the Midas Tomb[63].
[Illustration: FIG. 25. TOMB FLANKED BY LIONS.]
If the geometric decorations of these early Phrygian monuments remind us
of the carving of pillar and lintel at Mycenae, a still closer parallel
to the Gate of the Lions is furnished by
[Illustration: FIG. 26. HEAD OF LION.]
other Phrygian tombs of which Mr. Ramsay was the fortunate discoverer.
At Ayazinn he found a tomb entrance surmounted by a tall column on
either side of which ramped a colossal lion (Fig. 25), rudely executed
it is true, but by no means wanting in vigour. Under each of the lions
is a small cub. We reproduce the drawing of this monument made by M. St.
Elme Gautier[64]. Fragments also of colossal lions of a far nobler type,
which had in like heraldic pose served to decorate a tomb, were found
in the same district: an engraving of a fragment of one of these (Fig.
26)[65] will give us, so to speak, the high-water mark of Phrygian art,
and we must confess that it is a level which the Greeks themselves
scarcely reached before the end of the sixth century.
For the sake of completeness I have reproduced some of the most clearly
marked types of Phrygian tombs. But it is impossible here to enter into
the historic questions which they suggest, and which have given rise to
much discussion[66]. Almost the only fact which we know as to the
history of Phrygia is that recorded by Strabo[67], who tells of a
Phrygian king Midas, who, when his kingdom was devastated about B.C. 680
by an invasion of the Cimmerians, committed suicide by drinking bull’s
blood. After the Cimmerians had retired, the kingdom of the Lydians
arose to a great height of power and splendour, but that of the
Phrygians did not fully recover, remaining a dependency of Lydia.
The Midas of the Midas Tomb can scarcely be the monarch who fell in the
darkest hour of his country’s history. Are we to suppose that the king
Midas of the tomb was a predecessor of Strabo’s monarch, or a successor?
Or are we to suppose with M. Perrot that he was no historic monarch, but
a deity, and that the supposed tomb is really rather a shrine? That the
monument was really a tomb Mr. Ramsay argues with great force. But its
date is more problematic, and we cannot venture in this matter to
express an opinion.
According to Mr. Ramsay the tombs guarded by lions are more ancient than
those with geometric façades, and go back to quite a remote antiquity.
But the opposite opinion, that the geometrical tombs are the older, has
found advocates. Between them, the two classes of monuments seem to
occupy the period between the eighth century, or earlier, and the age of
Croesus and Cyrus.