Without at all intending to exhaust the subject, I propose to give some

account of a few of the most noteworthy of these monuments, especially

of the Nereid monument and the Gyeulbashi heroon in Lycia, and the

Mausoleum a Halicarnassus. These tombs I select not as typical of their

age and country, but rather as exceptional. They represent the almost

complete victory in Asia not only of Greek art, but even of Greek ideas.

Side by side with these monuments there were erected in Asia Minor, and

especially in Lycia, tombs in which native tendencies, such as we have

seen in an earlier chapter were still dominant. Sir Charles Fellows

brought from Lycia some tombs of this character, and casts of the

reliefs of others which remain in their site. The most interesting

representation is from a tomb at Cadyanda[291], on which we see

banqueting scenes, dancing figures, a group of four girls playing with

knucklebones, and so forth, with bilingual inscriptions in Greek and

Lycian. But to comment on these scenes as if they were of Hellenic

origin would lead us far astray. Like the paintings and reliefs of

Etruria, they represent a peculiar and lost phase of civilization,

thinly veneered by the art and thought of Hellas.

In his third journey through Lycia, in 1842, Sir Charles Fellows

discovered, not far from the agora of Xanthus, a lofty stone basis, some

33 feet by 22 in dimensions; and in close connexion with it a large

quantity of reliefs and of fragments of Ionic architecture[292]. Leaving

the basis where it stood, he brought to England the sculpture; and by

the labours of English archaeologists the tomb to which both basis and

sculpture belonged has been reconstructed. I repeat the restoration of

Falkener[293], which has been accepted by Overbeck and other authorities

(Fig. 74). The restoration is not in all points certain. As the basis

remains there cannot be any question as to its form and the position of

the sculptured friezes which adorned it. And the examination of the

upper surface of the basis established a pteron or line of columns all

round, with statues standing in the intercolumniations. But as to the

position of the friezes which belong to the upper part of the monument,

and as to the acroteria which Falkener places on the top of all, there

remains considerable uncertainty. The whole of the sculpture may be

studied in the British Museum, and is published by Professor Michaelis

in the tenth volume of the Roman _Monumenti dell’ Instituto_.

[Illustration: FIG. 74. NEREID MONUMENT, FALKENER.]

From the present point of view the most important of

[Illustration: FIG. 75. GABLE OF NEREID MONUMENT.]

the scenes depicted on this monument is to be found in one of the

pediments[294] (Fig. 75). The hero of whom the tomb is a memorial is

seated in state, sceptre in hand: his wife sits opposite, and the

children are grouped about them. Further to the right are attendants on

a smaller scale. One dog is asleep under the master’s chair, another

lies in the corner of the pediment. In the other pediment there is a

warlike scene, of which only one-half is preserved. The midmost figure,

doubtless the hero again, is on horseback[295] charging an overthrown

foe, to whose aid his companions, clad as Greek hoplites, hurry forward.

The representation here is no doubt of some notable feat of arms of the

owner of the tomb. To the warlike scene the peaceful scene first

described corresponds. At first sight it seems merely a picture out of

daily life: but if we bear in mind the ordinary symbolism of the Greek

tomb we may fairly find in it some sepulchral significance. The grouping

of the children about their parents reminds us of many Attic sepulchral

reliefs, and the train of attendants bears a decided resemblance to the

group of votaries usual on heroizing reliefs. In fact, we find here what

is called by archaeologists a contamination. The Asiatic custom of

regarding a tomb as a monument of the fame and a record of the exploits

of some great ruler or leader of men is penetrated by the genius of

Attic sepulchral art, and takes new and more beautiful forms.

Treating the two pediments as striking the keynote of the whole

sculptural adornment of the monument, we shall not hesitate to find in

all its representations allusions to the life and exploits of the hero

whom it commemorates. But of the four friezes which encircled the

building at various heights, three furnish us with information which is

too vague to be historically useful. The theme of the first is battle,

of the third hunting, of the fourth feasting and repose. It is only the

frieze numbered as the second in the publications which gives us more

detailed and accurate information. Here are unfolded to us the

successive scenes of the siege and capture of a hostile city; the battle

before the walls, the attempt to storm and the defence, the parleying

and surrender, the escape of some of the inhabitants and the leading

into captivity of others. In the scene of capitulation the central

figure is an Eastern king or ruler, in Persian cap; behind him an

attendant bears a sunshade; around him stand his guards. This potentate

is approached by two elderly men, staid and dignified, who are clearly

the representatives of the city, and come asking for terms. In other

scenes we find a bold but a necessarily unsuccessful attempt to

represent without due perspective the city walls with the heads of the

defenders showing above them, the women wailing, the attacking force

adjusting the ladders for scaling, or repulsing sorties of the besieged.

The siege and the capture of a hostile city was evidently one of the

most notable events of the life of the hero of the monument. With some

plausibility archaeologists have found allusion to the same siege in the

beautiful figures of women which stood between the columns of the

pteron, the temple-like structure which crowned the monument. These

figures represent young girls in the dress of Attic maidens flying in

haste and alarm from some danger which threatens them. At their feet are

various marine creatures: the dolphin, the sea-snake, a crab, a

water-bird, or a fish. This curious circumstance has given rise to the

commonly accepted view that they represent Nereid nymphs hastily

escaping over the surface of the sea from some rude alarm, flying in

disorder to their father Nereus, as they do on more than one vase when

Peleus has laid hands on their sister Thetis. What more likely to cause

a panic among the shy and peaceful ladies of the sea than a marine

battle, or even the attack of an army on a city of the seacoast?

Urlichs has tried to show that all the historical indications which may

be derived from the frieze of the siege and from the presence of the

flying Nereids may be explained if we assign the tomb to the king or

satrap, Pericles of Xanthus, who, as we learn from a fragment of

Theopompus, laid siege to the neighbouring city of Telmessus, and after

a stubborn resistance compelled it to capitulate. Before we can accept

or reject this theory we must briefly consider two questions. Is an

actual historic event depicted on the tomb, or is the representation

merely of a mythical siege of the past? And what is the date of the

monument?

As to the first of these questions I have already sufficiently indicated

my view. The sculptural history of the siege is too detailed and precise

to be a rendering of a merely typical or ideal siege. The two

emissaries of the besiegers must have had prototypes, and recent

prototypes, in real life; and the king before whom they stand is no

mythical chief, but the ruler for whom the tomb was made. This has been

disputed by Wolters, but the general consensus of archaeologists is

against him.

On the other point, the date of the monument, there has been much wider

divergence of opinion. At first, in England, it was placed in the sixth

century, as a monument of the conquest of Xanthus by Harpagus, the

general of Cyrus. This, however, is quite impossible. Soon the pendulum

swung too far in the other direction, and the sculpture was brought down

to the fourth century, and even connected with the school of Scopas. The

date fixed by Furtwängler[296], the latter part of the fifth century, is

now generally accepted. In the forms of the Nereids we may trace the

artistic influence of the Victory of Paeonius, set up about B.C. 424.

And if some of the figures of the friezes be carefully considered they

will be found to show traces of undeveloped art, even of archaism. The

Nereid monument belongs to the age of the Parthenon and the temple of

Athena Nike, not to the age of the Mausoleum.

If therefore we were compelled, as Urlichs supposed, to assign the

taking of Telmessus by Pericles to so late a date as the 102nd Olympiad

(B.C. 372), we should be obliged to give up its assignment to that king.

But there is no conclusive reason for the date fixed by Urlichs. There

is therefore no improbability that our monument may be a memorial of

Pericles of Xanthus. In any case it has an important place among the

remains of antiquity, because it stands in the line of descent, a line

marked by many lacunae, which connects the mural reliefs of Assyria,

with their fulness of historic detail, and the magnificent monuments of

imperial Rome. The Nereid Monument and that of Gyeulbashi, as well as

some of the sarcophagi from Sidon, with which I shall deal in the

fifteenth chapter, naturally strike the student as being set in a key

somewhat different from that of ordinary Greek sculpture. The

mythological scenes portrayed on them find ready parallels in Greece,

but the more historic scenes carry our minds to the wall-sculptures of

Assyria or the reliefs of Roman columns, such as those of Trajan and

Aurelius, rather than to other Greek works. The reason of this is

probably that the art of these Asiatic monuments is influenced by that

of Ionia, which is to us, unfortunately, but little known. The Ionian

tendency was towards history, that of the Dorians towards religion. The

great Greek painters, following Ionian precedent, celebrated in their

works many historic battles. Bularchus in very early times is said to

have portrayed, for a Lydian king, a victory of the Magnesians: Panaenus

painted at Athens the battle of Marathon, Androcydes of Cyzicus painted

for the Thebans a picture of their victory at Plataea, and Euphranor

depicted the battle of Mantineia. But in Greece sculpture took a

different and more ideal line, and translated the battles of the present

into mythic combats of the past, in which Centaurs and Amazons rather

than fellow-Greeks represented the vanquished party. The sculpture of

the Nereid monument is dominated by a more realistic and historic

spirit. The sculpture at Gyeulbashi is on the border-line, so that we

find it hard to decide whether the scene of the siege there portrayed is

Ilium or Lycia, and whether the battles are being fought on the windy

plain of Troy or the southern coast of Asia Minor. The sculpture of the

Mausoleum is of the purely Greek and ideal character. But the greatest

of the Sidonian sarcophagi returns, as we shall see, in the age of

Alexander the Great, to a more realistic level.

The heroon of Gyeulbashi was discovered in the heart of Lycia by

Schönborn in 1842. For a long time the discovery remained almost

unnoticed. But a few years ago an Austrian expedition was sent to secure

such remains of the monument as have artistic value, and these are now

deposited in the Museum of Vienna. Unfortunately they have suffered

terribly, being of limestone and not of marble, from exposure to the

weather, and some of the friezes have almost perished. Casts of the

better-preserved portions are to be found at South Kensington and

Oxford. And the whole monument is published in the completest and most

satisfactory form by Professor Benndorf[297].

[Illustration: FIG. 76. HEROON OF GYEULBASHI.]

In form the heroon differs entirely, as will be seen from the engraving

(Fig. 76) from other Lycian monuments. The actual grave is a modest

construction in the form of a sarcophagus surmounted by a cover with

gables. This stands transversely within a walled enclosure some 78 feet

long by 68 wide, inside measurement. The enclosing wall is built solidly

of squared stones. And it is this which is the interesting part of the

whole; for the wall is adorned without and within with a series of

reliefs, presenting us with a whole gallery of representations

remarkable alike for their style and their subjects, some of which are

portrayed nowhere else in the whole range of Greek sculpture.

The keynote here again is furnished by the group of seated heroic

personages. This group is sculptured over the door through which the

enclosure is entered; unfortunately it has so severely suffered that the

details are obscure. The great lintel stone over the doorway is

decorated as follows. Above are the foreparts of four winged bulls,

separated by rosettes and a gorgon-head. Immediately below these are

seated two pairs of figures, in each case male and female. The men are

bearded, the women veiled. Husband and wife are turned towards one

another, and behind the wife in each group stands a girl, a daughter or

servant, holding in one instance a casket, in the other raising her arms

in an attitude of sorrow.

These two heroic pairs are probably the proprietors of the sacred

enclosure, which was built like a finely carved casket to hold their

ashes. In the decoration of the casket we find one Oriental motive. Over

the door inside is a line of dwarfs, or of repetitions of the Egyptian

monster Bes, holding musical instruments or dancing. Here we have a

touch lent by a religion less refined and artistic than that of the

anthropomorphic Greeks. The rest of the reliefs take their subjects from

the legendary tales of Greece. We do not appear to have here, as on the

Nereid monument, allusions to the lives of the buried heroes. There is

no scene which bears the impress of history. The Greek artists who were

employed by the wealthy Lycian family to adorn the wall seem to have

been left quite free in their choice of subjects. So they run on almost

without plan, from tale to tale and from scene to scene. Sometimes we

have two subjects, one above the other, quite independent one of the

other. Sometimes the two lines of decorations are occupied with a single

scene.

It would be useless to attempt to describe in detail scenes which we are

unable to set before the eyes of the reader. The landing of the Greeks

at Troy, the siege of the City, the battle of Achilles with the Amazons

who come to its rescue, Odysseus meeting Penelope, and shooting down the

suitors, are taken from the cycle of Trojan legend. Then we have the

hunting of the Calydonian boar, the carrying off of the daughters of

Leucippus, the expedition of the Seven against Thebes, all portrayed

with the freedom which Greek artists use, always ready to subordinate

strict fidelity to tradition to the necessities of art and the love of

balance and measure. The interest of those scenes is great, but it does

not belong to our subject. The art is not sepulchral, but of the

myth-loving kind which prevails in the decoration of Greek temples, and

which once marked the lost masterpieces of the great Greek painters.

Professor Benndorf has tried, and not unsuccessfully, to prove that in

the reliefs of Gyeulbashi we may find clear traces of the influence of

the great Thasian painter Polygnotus, another of whose lines of

influence reached the sculptors of the Parthenon. The Lycian heroon and

the Attic temple are works of about the same period, widely as they

differ in some respects. At Athens the influence of Polygnotus is fairly

and fully translated into sculptural style. In Lycia the sculptor has

less transforming vigour, and he retains in the work of the chisel some

conventions appropriate only to the work of the brush.

One other important tomb must be mentioned which was built in Asia,

though its construction is purely Greek, its material the marble of

Pentelicus, and its erection on the coast of Asia Minor no more than an

instance of the fortune of war.

[Illustration: FIG. 77. LION-TOMB, CNIDUS.]

Among the discoveries, with the fruits of which Sir Charles Newton

enriched the British Museum, there were few which he valued more highly

than that of the Lion-tomb of Cnidus. The huge lion, which is now in the

Mausoleum Room of the British Museum, reclined on the top of a building

made solid to receive his vast weight, looking out over the Carian Sea.

We engrave (Fig. 77) the whole monument as restored by Mr. Pullan[298].

It can scarcely be contended that the lion is a great work of sculpture.

His size is imposing and his attitude monumental, but the head and body

alike lack character and force. This is true of all the lions of Greek

artists of the period, the great lion set up in memory of Chaeroneia,

those which adorned the Mausoleum, and others. The fact is that the

Greeks between the days of the Persian Wars and those of Alexander knew

nothing of the lion, probably scarcely ever saw one, dead or alive. So

their artistic and idealizing tendency had to work without constant

reference to, and correction by, nature. Thus, while the types of the

horse, the bull, and the dog went on developing on the lines of love and

appreciation of nature, the type of the lion became fantastic and poor.

The soul of the lion does not inhabit the bodies prepared for it by

Greek artists.

Nevertheless the Cnidian monument has its interest. It is conjectured,

with a high degree of probability, that it was set up by Conon, after

his great victory of 394 B.C. over the Spartan fleet at Cnidus. It

commemorates alike the battle and the Athenians who fell in it. It is an

Attic tomb though not erected in Attica, more imposing as a historical

monument than the reliefs of the Cerameicus, but inferior to them in the

higher artistic qualities.

Our subject being Greek sculptured tombs, we must leave out of

consideration one of the most important classes of Hellenic or

semi-Hellenic graves, that which belongs to the Greek colonists of the

Crimea and their barbarous Scythic allies[299]. In the neighbourhood of

the ancient Panticapaeum, a city closely connected with Athens by ties

of commerce and alliance, there are many mound-graves, which being

opened have been found to contain lofty vaulted chambers, in shape and

design not unlike the treasuries of Mycenae and Orchomenus, but of a far

later age, belonging in fact mostly to the fourth century, which seems

to have been the golden age of Panticapaeum. These graves have no

important architectural features and no sculptural adornment. But they

have in many cases preserved to our days their contents, a rich spoil of

gold and bronze, of Greek vases and barbarous armour, of ornaments and

coins. By an art-loving and paternal government, these important relics

of the most northerly branch of the Hellenic stock have been carefully

collected and preserved, forming to-day one of the most splendid

attractions of the Hermitage Museum at St. Petersburg.

They are also luxuriously published in official publications of the

Russian Government, offering to the student of history a new chapter,

showing how, in the Crimea of old, Greek and Scythian met, how the Greek

refined the Scythian and supplied him with admirable works of art, and

how the Scythian lent the Greek armour and clothes, besides no doubt

supplying him with timber, corn, and skins. And to the student of art

they exhibit the richness and the taste displayed by Athenian craftsmen

in the fourth century, in the production even of the smallest and least

considered of the appliances of daily life.

CHAPTER XIV

THE MAUSOLEUM

We turn next to the Mausoleum, the great tomb erected in honour of

Mausolus, king of Caria, by his widow Artemisia, in the middle of the

fourth century. It ranked among the wonders of the world, and was the

work of the most celebrated artists of Greece. The discovery of its

remains by Sir Charles Newton occupies a prominent position among the

first-rate achievements of English excavators. And their acquisition by

the British Museum has made the National Gallery of Sculpture almost as

rich in fourth-century sculpture as the purchase of the Elgin marbles

had made it in the sculpture of the fifth century.

The problem of the reconstruction of the Mausoleum is among the most

interesting of those connected with the history of Greek architecture.

Generally speaking, after the excavation of the site of the great Greek

building, its restoration is by no means difficult. The laws of Greek

architecture are so precise, and its forms so simple, that it is

possible from the evidence of a few stones to reconstruct it with the

certainty with which the skilled palaeontologist constructs a geological

animal from the evidence of a few bones. The wonderful reconstructions

of Dr. Dörpfeld on the Athenian Acropolis, at Olympia, and elsewhere,

have commonly but little in them which is arbitrary, though much which

is brilliant.

Dr. Dörpfeld has not yet attempted the Mausoleum. But it is safe to say

that in its reconstruction he would meet difficulties such as he has not

yet encountered. At first sight, the materials for a reconstruction seem

very abundant. We have an elaborate description of the monument by

Pliny. We have an account of its partial destruction in the sixteenth

century by the Knights of St. John. And the excavations on the site

conducted by Sir Charles Newton were complete and systematic. But the

advantage derived from all this richness of material is more than

balanced by the fact that the Mausoleum was a work of new and original

design. It was no Greek temple, made according to well-established

rules, but a monument intended to stand alone through the centuries.

Thus the man who would successfully restore its design must venture to

rise above convention, and has need of a thorough grasp of the

tendencies and possibilities of Greek architecture.

Setting aside the fanciful reconstructions proposed by scholars before

Newton’s excavations, we pass to those made with the data now available.

The earliest reconstruction, one to which we must attach considerable

value, is that set forth by the excavators themselves. It is hard to say

who is responsible for it. It was first projected by Lieut. Smith, an

engineer attached to the expedition, revised and completed by Mr. Pullan

the architect, adopted and defended by Sir Charles Newton himself. Plans

based upon this, but differing from it in various points, were set forth

by Mr. Fergusson and Dr. Petersen. But since neither of these writers

has fairly grappled with the subject from the beginning, we may feel

justified in not paying much heed to their plans. If we are to set aside

a restoration made on the spot, with all local knowledge and every

resource, it must be only after a very careful and complete survey of

all the available evidence.

The plans of Pullan, Fergusson, and Petersen have won their way into our

books, and are frequently treated as final. But final they certainly are

not. They have never, until quite lately, been collated with sufficient

care with the evidence, especially with the ancient authorities. They

contain violations of precedent and probability which it is not easy to

justify. Mr. Oldfield has therefore done an excellent work in his recent

attempt[300] to improve upon the received restorations, an attempt

marked by extreme care, lucidity, and ingenuity.

[Illustration: FIG. 78. MAUSOLEUM: MR. PULLAN.]

It is, unfortunately, not possible here to criticize in satisfactory

detail the views of Mr. Oldfield and his predecessors. I propose only to

set forth briefly the sum of the evidence

[Illustration: FIG. 79. MAUSOLEUM: MR. OLDFIELD.]

which exists for the reconstruction, after engraving side by side the

plans set forth by Mr. Pullan (Fig. 78) and Mr. Oldfield (Fig. 79)[301]

on the basis of that evidence. Readers to whom such inquiries have no

interest would do well to omit the rest of this chapter.

Our materials are of four kinds. First we have the statements of certain

ancient writers. Second, we have the curious account by Guichard of the

state of the building when it was partially destroyed by the Knights of

St. John in 1522. Third, we may cite the analogy of other ancient

buildings of the same kind, so far as they are preserved. And of course

all these sources of information must be used in strict subordination to

the evidence of excavation and of the remains actually existing.

1. _Ancient Writers._

Hyginus[302] mentions three facts in regard to the Mausoleum; he says

that it was of Parian marble, 80 feet in height, 1,350 feet in

circumference. In two of these statements he is certainly right. The

marble of the Mausoleum is Parian, and the circuit of the sacred

enclosure or peribolus is given by Newton as 1,348 English feet. But as

to the height of the building Hyginus contradicts Pliny, and must

probably be corrected by him.

Martial, in a curious line, speaks of the Mausoleum as suspended in the

air[303]. This phrase certainly implies that it did not appear to

spectators a solid and massive structure, but light and aspiring. Mr.

Oldfield contends that the phrase would well describe a building whereof

the upper part rested mainly on pillars[304], and would certainly not

apply to a building of which solidity is the most striking feature, as

it is of Mr. Pullan’s reconstruction.

The most important of ancient writers on the Mausoleum is Pliny[305],

whose description we must transcribe at length, both in Latin and

English.

Scopas habuit aemulos eadem aetate Bryaxim et Timotheum et

Leocharen, de quibus simul dicendum est quoniam pariter caelauere

Mausoleum. Sepulcrum hoc est ab uxore Artemisia factum Mausolo

Cariae regulo, qui obiit Olympiadis cvii[306] anno secundo. Opus id

ut esset inter septem miracula hi maxime fecere artifices. Patet ab

austro et septentrione sexagenos[307] ternos pedes, breuius a

frontibus, toto circumitu pedes ccccxi[308], attolitur in

altitudinem xxv cubitis, cingitur columnis xxxvi. Πτερόν

uocauere[309]. Ab oriente caelauit Scopas, a septentrione Bryaxis,

a meridie Timotheus, ab occasu Leochares, priusque quam peragerent

regina obiit. Non tamen recesserunt nisi absoluto iam, id gloriae

ipsorum artisque monumentum iudicantes, hodieque certant manus.

Accessit et quintus artifex. Namque supra πτερόν pyramis altitudine

inferiorem aequauit[310], uiginti quatuor gradibus in metae cacumen

se contrahens. In summo est quadriga marmorea quam fecit Pythis.

Haec adiecta cxxxx pedum altitudine totum opus includit.

Scopas had as rivals and contemporaries Bryaxis, Timotheus, and

Leochares, whom we must treat of together since together they

sculptured the Mausoleum. This is the tomb erected to Mausolus

prince of Caria by his widow Artemisia. He died in the second year

of the 107th Olympiad (B.C. 351). That this work is among the seven

wonders of the world is mainly owing to these artists. Its length

on the north and south sides is sixty-three feet; the façades are

shorter; the whole circuit is 411 feet; it rises to a height of

twenty-five cubits, and is surrounded by thirty-six columns. This

they call the _Pteron_. The sculptures of the east side are by

Scopas, those on the north by Bryaxis, those on the south by

Timotheus, those on the west by Leochares. Before the task was

finished the queen died; but the artists ceased not till the work

was done, considering that it would redound to their glory and be a

memorial of their art. To this day they vie in handiwork. There

came in also a fifth artist. For over the _pteron_ was a pyramid in

height equal to that below, with a flight of twenty-four steps

tapering to a point. On the top is a marble quadriga made by

Pythis. The addition of this raises the height of the whole

building to 140 feet.

In this passage are several disputed readings, which I have marked in

the notes. I have accepted Mr. Oldfield’s version, which is that of the

earlier edition of Sillig’s Pliny. I will briefly sum up Pliny’s

evidence as to the form and dimensions of the building. His statement as

to the circumstances of its erection needs no summing; it is clear, and

no doubt correct.

1. The frontage towards north and south was 63 feet: the frontage (in a

stricter sense the fronts) towards east and west was shorter. But the

circuit was 411 feet. This latter dimension seems inconsistent with the

former. How could a building which was 411 feet in circuit have no side

longer than 63 feet? Impressed by this difficulty, some writers supposed

the true dimensions to be 163 feet (adding to the text centenos) for the

frontage to north and south. Colonel Leake, followed by Newton and

Pullan, regarded the dimension of 63 feet as really the length of the

cella, not of any frontage. This, however, is doing clear violence to

the text of Pliny. But by a most ingenious adaptation, Mr. Oldfield has

succeeded in reconciling the numbers of Pliny as they stand. He has, in

fact, substituted for a square or oblong groundplan of the building ☐, a

cruciform plan [** symbol]; and so makes it possible for any given front

to be less than a fourth of the circuit of the building. Here Mr.

Oldfield has certainly won a great advantage over rival constructions:

he has kept to the text of Pliny, and at the same time greatly improved

the form of the building. It is true that it would not be easy to find

other Greek buildings of cruciform plan, but the Erechtheium at Athens

gives us a hint that such a plan, produced by the intersection of two

ordinary temples, would not be impossible. And the Mausoleum was a

building in which originality of design was to be expected.

2. The number of columns of the pteron was thirty-six. The pteron is the

temple-like building erected on the base, a construction of which, in

any possible view, columns were the principal feature. Now the writers

who supposed the pteron to be a huge square edifice were compelled to

place the columns all round the edge of it: and to fill up the midst

with a vast and solid construction of hewn stone (Fig. 78). But Mr.

Oldfield is enabled, by greatly reducing the superficial area covered by

the pteron, to make the columns by far its most conspicuous feature.

Within them there is room only for a small building; or the space may

even be filled by a few solid piers, which is the plan he adopts. He can

thus far more nearly conform to the ‘aere pendentia Mausolea’ of

Martial.

3. The total height was 140 feet[311] from the ground to the top of the

chariot. Let us consider how this height was made up. Thirty-seven and a

half feet (25 cubits) was occupied by the pteron. Then there was a

pyramid of twenty-four steps over the pteron, supporting a chariot, and

there was under the pteron another pyramid equal in height to the upper

one. Now we have considerable remains of the steps of the upper pyramid,

from careful measurement of which Mr. Pullan has ascertained that each

step was 12¼ inches in height. Thus the total height of the upper

pyramid was 24½ feet. The lower pyramid was of the same height. The

chariot would not occupy less than twelve feet. We have thus accounted

for 37½, 24½, 24½ and 12 feet, about 100 feet of the 140 of Pliny. The

amount may be filled up by assuming that the whole stood on a high

podium or basis, and by inserting an attic over the pteron, or in other

ways.

4. If the reading _aequavit_ for _aequat_ be accepted, an opening is

left for Mr. Oldfield’s view, that after the building had been set up

with a pyramid rising to a point, it was decided to add a chariot on the

top, and that in order to accomplish this, a basis was built round the

topmost steps of the pyramid, of which six were thus concealed from

view.

5. Sir C. Newton[312] and Mr. Pullan accepted the reading ‘_altitudinem_

inferiorem’ for _altitudine_, and had supposed the assertion to be that

the height of the pyramid above was equal to that of the basis below the

pyramid. This is, however, a mere correction of the text. If we adhere

to the reading of the MSS. we must retain _altitudine_, and suppose

_inferiorem_ to apply to a second pyramid beneath the pteron. It is thus

that Mr. Oldfield takes the phrase, and of the existence of this second

pyramid he finds proof in the testimony of Guichard, to which we shall

next turn. The height of this lower pyramid he supposes to have been

equal to that of the original pyramid of twenty-four steps, not of

course to the later truncated pyramid of eighteen steps.

It will be seen on referring to Figs. 78 and 79 that the acceptance of

one or the other of these readings of Pliny makes a great difference in

the principles of reconstruction. Mr. Pullan admitted no lower pyramid,

and regarding the chariot on the summit as part of the original design,

makes the twenty-four steps of the upper pyramid support it. Mr.

Oldfield does admit a lower pyramid, and regarding the chariot as a

later addition works into its basis six steps of the upper pyramid.

Hence a great difference between the two restorers in the area covered

by the base of the upper pyramid, which is far larger in Mr. Pullan’s

design: and this affects the whole form of the building, since the

excavations determined the size of the area on which the whole stood. It

is not easy to meet Mr. Oldfield’s argument in favour of his design,

that the phrase ‘tapering to a point’ applies far better to his pyramid,

as originally intended, than to Mr. Pullan’s flat-topped pyramid.

2. _The Testimony of Guichard._

Such appears to be the testimony of Pliny. And in some points it is

curiously supplemented by the very notable account, professing to come

from an eye-witness, which is given us by Guichard[313] of the

proceedings of the Knights of St. John on the site of the Mausoleum. ‘In

the year 1522, when Sultan Solyman was preparing an expedition against

the Rhodians, the Grand Master, knowing the importance of the Castle of

St. Peter [at Budrum or Halicarnassus], and being aware that the Turk

would seize it if he could at the first assault, sent some knights

thither to repair the fortress and make all due preparations to resist

the enemy. Among the number of those sent was the Commander de la

Tourette, a Lyonnese knight, who was afterwards present at the taking of

Rhodes, and came to France, where he related what I am now about to

narrate to M. d’Alechamps, a person sufficiently known by his learned

writings, and whose name I mention here only for the purpose of

publishing my authority for so singular a story.

‘When these knights had arrived at Mesy (Budrum), they at once set about

fortifying the castle; and looking about for stones wherewith to make

lime, found none more suitable or more easily got at than certain steps

of white marble, raised in the form of a staircase (_perron_) in the

middle of a level field near the port, which had formerly been the great

square of Halicarnassus. They therefore pulled down and took away these

marble steps for their use, and finding the stone good, proceeded, after

having destroyed the little masonry remaining above ground, to dig lower

down, in the hope of finding more.

‘In this attempt they had great success, for in a short time they

perceived that the deeper they went the more the structure was enlarged

at the base, supplying them not only with stone for making lime but also

for building.

‘After four or five days, having laid bare a great space one afternoon,

they saw an opening as into a cellar. Taking a candle, they descended

through this opening, and found that it led into a fine large square

apartment, ornamented all round with columns of marble, with their

bases, capitals, architrave, frieze, and cornices, carved and sculptured

in _mezzo rilievo_. The space between the columns was lined with slabs

and bands of marbles of different colours, ornamented with mouldings and

sculptures, in harmony with the rest of the work, and inserted in the

white ground of the wall, where deeds and battle-scenes were represented

sculptured in relief.

‘Having at first admired these works, and entertained their fancy with

the singularity of the sculpture, they pulled it to pieces, and broke up

the whole of it, applying it to the same purpose as the rest.

‘Besides this apartment, they found afterwards a very low door, which

led into another apartment, like an ante-chamber, where was a tomb, with

its urn and its cover (_tymbre_) of white marble, very beautiful and of

marvellous lustre. This sepulchre, for want of time, they did not open,

the retreat having already sounded.

‘The day after, when they returned, they found the tomb opened, and the

earth all round strewn with fragments of cloth of gold, and ornaments of

the same metal, which made them suppose that the pirates who hovered on

their coast, having some inkling of what had been discovered, had

visited the place during the night, and had removed the lid of the

tomb.’

Those who are acquainted with the Levant, with its wondrous tales of

underground chambers and hidden treasures, will scarcely be disposed to

accept, without a grain of salt, the details of this curious story. It

may be true, or it may be in the main a work of the imagination. Many

such stories, grounded or groundless, are flitting from mouth to mouth

in Asia Minor, and rapidly growing in the process. Nevertheless it is

probable that Mr. Oldfield is justified in saying that the earlier part

of the tale affords a clear confirmation of the existence (which has

been denied) of a lower pyramid at the Mausoleum as well as that which

surmounted the building. The knights found in the ground steps of white

marble like a staircase, and as they dug downwards these steps spread

outwards, just as would the steps of a pyramid. The solid mass of marble

had escaped while most of the upper part of the building had been

carried away as material for the castles of the knights. But it survived

no longer; it was carried away by the companions of De la Tourette and

built into the walls of the castle. As to what Guichard tells us in

regard to the contents of the inner chamber, scepticism is more

justifiable.

3. _The Analogy of other Buildings._

Of monuments mentioned in these pages, only two can fairly be used for

comparison with the Mausoleum. These are the Lycian Nereid Monument

(Fig. 74) and the Lion Tomb of Cnidus (Fig. 77). The Nereid Monument

consists, like the Mausoleum, of a pteron raised upon a base or podium;

but no part of it is of pyramidal form. It is merely, if the restoration

be correct, a building in the form of an ordinary Greek temple, on an

unusually high podium. It may be used as proof that the Mausoleum also

had a high podium, for the existence of which the existing remains

furnish no direct evidence. The Lion Tomb may be suggestive from a

constructional point of view, as the architectural problem involved in

supporting a massive lion on the top was not unlike the problem which

the architect of the Mausoleum had to solve. But its elevation was of a

far simpler type than was that of the Mausoleum.

Other buildings are cited and engraved in the treatise of Mr. Oldfield,

but unless we could examine them in detail it would be useless to

mention them here. They are valuable rather as offering suggestions on

points of construction than as affording us real parallels to the plan

of the Mausoleum.

* * * * *

The evidence of existing remains must be studied partly in Sir C.

Newton’s _History of Discoveries_, partly in the Mausoleum Room of the

British Museum. Lately Mr. Murray has in that museum set up one of the

pillars of the pteron, with base and cornice, a reconstruction which

will greatly help those who wish to revive in imagination the glories of

the most splendid of ancient sepulchres.

For the manner in which out of the data Mr. Oldfield makes a conjectural

restoration of the great tomb we must refer the reader to his admirable

paper in _Archaeologia_. We can only conclude, as we began, by referring

to his engraving set side by side with Mr. Pullan’s (Figs. 78, 79). Of

the two it is by far the better, closer to the ancient evidence, less

clumsy, more Greek. But of course it may be in turn superseded by other

restorations hereafter. In one point both reconstructions are certainly

wrong, in placing on the top of the whole, in the chariot of Pythis, the

magnificent statues of Mausolus and Artemisia, found on the site, which

were doubtless carefully preserved in the interior of the building, and

not put almost beyond sight and exposed to the weather on the top of it.

I have elsewhere[314] maintained this view by the following arguments:--

1. Pliny mentions the chariot of Pythis, but says nothing of any figures

in it.

2. The statues at such a height, in a chariot, and behind gigantic

horses, would have been almost invisible from below.

3. Neither Mausolus nor his wife is holding reins or clad in the dress

of a charioteer.

4. The head of Mausolus in particular is too well preserved to have been

long exposed to the weather.

5. Both the horses and the wheel of the chariot are on a far larger

scale than the two statues.

6. They are also very inferior to the statues as works of art.

The only argument of importance on the other side arises from the fact

that the statues and the fragments of the chariot were found together.

But it must be observed that the course of discovery in the German

excavations at Olympia proved that collocations of remains of ancient

buildings have often a most fortuitous character. And not only were the

statues of Mausolus and Artemisia found with the remains of the chariot,

but also a variety of fragments of other statues which can have had

nothing to do with that chariot.

We cannot yet venture to say to which of the Mausoleum artists the

portrait of Mausolus is due. Quite lately Dr. J. Six has suggested

Bryaxis and Dr. W. Amelung Praxiteles, who is said by Vitruvius to have

had a share in the monument. But neither of these conjectures reaches

beyond a probability.

We possess, besides the sculptured remains already mentioned, quite a

wealth of fragments of statues and reliefs from the site. (1) Some

fragments of metopes, one of which seems to have represented an

adventure of Theseus. (2) A few figures from a most spirited frieze,

representing a race of chariots. This frieze is generally accepted as

the work of Scopas. (3) Scanty vestiges of a frieze representing the

battle of Lapiths and Centaurs. (4) The well-known wonderful frieze of

the Greeks and Amazons. (5) A magnificent torso of a Persian rider on

his horse. (6) Portions of many statues of colossal size and of life

size. These sculptural remains have never been properly published[315],

nor are by any means all of them exhibited in the public rooms of the

British Museum.

The Mausoleum was a wonder of the world, not so much on account of its

size and costliness as because of its ingenious architecture and noble

sculpture. Though it had not the magnificence of the Taj Mahal of Agra,

nor the solidity of the Pyramids of Egypt, it is probably the noblest

tomb ever erected for mortal man. It not only immortalized the name of

Mausolus, but it is also a leading authority for the style of the second

great school of Attic sculptors. Its poor remains are among the most

precious possessions of the British Museum. Of the authors, we can still

say, in the words of Pliny, ‘hodie certant manus.’

CHAPTER XV

GREEK SARCOPHAGI

The recent great discovery at Sidon of a number of beautiful sarcophagi

executed by Greek artists, and belonging to the best period of

sculpture, has been quite a revelation to archaeologists. Before, we had

abundance of Roman sarcophagi, the sculpture of which showed various

degrees of merit; and we had a few sarcophagi from Cyprus and Lycia and

Etruria, which were interesting, but not very important in relation to

Greek art or Greek religion. One or two of our most beautiful

sarcophagi, notably the Amazon sarcophagus of Vienna, were Hellenic, and

dated as far back as the fourth century; but these seem almost lost in

the brilliancy of the recent discoveries.

The Greek custom was not to bury the dead in massive coffins of stone,

but either to build a receptacle for the body out of slabs of terra

cotta, or to enclose it in a light earthenware vessel. I speak of course

of the cases when the body was buried: when it was burned, obviously

only a small vase would be necessary to hold the ashes.

The terra-cotta coffins of the Greeks had seldom any notable adornment.

But exception must be made of one great necropolis, that of Clazomenae

in Ionia. In some of our great museums, notably those of London and

Berlin, there are preserved several remarkable sarcophagi[316] of the

sixth century, which come from that site. They are of solid

construction, made of terra-cotta, adorned with rich patterns painted on

lids and on sides, and covered with scenes closely parallel to those

familiar to us on black-figured vases, combats of warriors, hunting

scenes, heraldic animals, and the like. A distinctly Oriental trait

found on some of these coffins is found in the scenes where the hunters

are pursuing in chariots stags and other game. The kings of Assyria are

represented on the walls of their palaces as thus hunting in chariots;

but the custom was probably quite foreign to all Greeks except a few

wealthy inhabitants of Asia, who were influenced by Asiatic ways. These

productions of Ionic potters are very interesting from many points of

view, but are not quite in the line of our present investigation.

Let us then at once pass to the sarcophagi from Sidon, now the chief

ornaments of the important museum formed by Hamdy Bey at

Constantinople[317]. They all come from one series of tombs discovered

at Sidon. There was a central pit sunk in the rocky soil, off which

branched in all directions a series of chambers cut at various times and

opening one out of the other. The rooms contained a number of sarcophagi

of various periods, the earlier showing the influence of Egypt, the

later that of Hellas. There can be little doubt that we have discovered

one of the chief burying-places of the royal race of the kings of Sidon.

Unfortunately the coffins had been opened by robbers at some uncertain

period, and their contents removed. Only the sarcophagi themselves

remain, for the most part in an excellent state of preservation, and

even retaining to some extent the colours with which their marble was

stained when they were fashioned.

Until the end of the sixth century these royal coffins are of the

Egyptian form, the body being plain, and the cover imitating the form of

a mummy with the face exposed. But in the fifth century these faces show

the dominance of Greek style. And as the rule of Greek art in the Levant

becomes during that century more pronounced, the mummy-like sarcophagus

gives place to forms better suited for offering a suitable field to the

sculptor, and the flat surfaces are adorned with reliefs, which in style

if not in subject are of pure Greek type. We will briefly describe the

four principal sculptured sarcophagi under the names which have been for

convenience assigned to them, and in chronological order: (1) The Tomb

of the Satrap, (2) The Lycian Tomb, (3) The Tomb of the Mourning Women,

(4) The Alexander Tomb.

The Tomb of the Satrap is assigned by Studniczka to the middle of the

fifth century, and though the freedom of pose of some of the figures

sculptured on it may make us hesitate before accepting quite so early a

date, it certainly belongs to the century. Three of the four scenes

which adorn the sides and ends of the tomb are clearly scenes from the

history of one man, no doubt the hero contained in it, a personage

represented as having a long beard, and usually wearing the conical hat

of the Persians and Phrygians. The scene of one of the ends (Fig.

80)[318] recalls the gable of the Nereid monument. The bearded man

reclines on a couch at table, holding in his hand a winecup. His wife is

seated at his feet; in attendance on him are two young men, one of whom

fills a rhyton or drinking horn from a jug. We have here a scheme

closely like that of the sepulchral banquet of Athens. And though the

reference may be primarily to the family repast of the palace, yet

considering that the sculptor was a Greek, it is scarcely likely that

all reference to what was beyond the tomb was wholly absent from his

mind. The wine which the hero drinks may very well be that poured in

libation at his grave.

[Illustration: FIG. 80. SARCOPHAGUS OF THE SATRAP: END.]

At the opposite end of the sarcophagus are represented four of the

body-guard, conversing one with the other. On one of its sides is a

scene of leave-taking. The hero sits on a throne, resting his arm

Zeus-like on a sceptre, while behind him stand two of the women of his

household. Before him is a young man, no doubt a son, stepping into a

chariot to which four horses are already yoked, and of which he holds

the reins. He turns to say a word of farewell to his father. Two other

young men are present: one holds in the horses of the chariot, the other

stands ready to mount a horse, and to ride beside it. Here again we have

a scene to which abundant parallels may be found among the Attic

grave-reliefs. The departure of a warrior or a horseman is, as we have

already seen[319], an ordinary subject on the stelae of Athens and

elsewhere. It may be that the son is setting out on a military

expedition which brought his father fame and increase of territory.

On the fourth side of the tomb, father and son are again prominent. It

is a hunting scene. In the midst is a panther turning to bay, which

father and son charge at the same moment on horseback from one side and

the other. On the left a young horseman has struck down a stag, and to

balance him on the right is represented a horse galloping away in a

panic, having thrown his rider, whom he drags with him. There can be

little doubt that all these scenes are out of the life of the person to

whom the tomb is devoted, and in all his son appears with him, very

probably the successor who had the sarcophagus made. The subsidiary

figures may be either younger sons or merely attendants. Unfortunately

we have no historical data for the assignment of the tomb to any

particular ruler of Sidon.

M. Reinach insists with justice on the importance of this tomb as a

monument of the great art of Ionia of the fifth century, an art of which

little has come down to us, but of the splendour of which we can judge

from the statements of ancient writers. Our sarcophagus lies half-way

between the reliefs of Assyria, recording the great deeds of the kings,

in an exaggerated and ideal historical record, and the sculpture of

purely Greek monuments such as the Mausoleum, where the battles of

Greeks and Amazons, of Lapiths and Centaurs, take the place of the

contests of ordinary men. The Lycian Tomb and that of the Mourning Women

belong almost entirely to the idealizing tendency of Greek sculpture

already spoken of, which translated the present into the past and the

human into the heroic. With the age of Alexander the historic tendency

once more prevails, since the deeds of Alexander and his contemporaries

might well seem pitched at a level quite as high as the mythic exploits

of Herakles and Theseus.

The Lycian Tomb may be dated about the year 420. It owes its name to its

curious form, a form common in Lycia, the cover being set on in the

shape of a Gothic arch. The conjecture has been hazarded that it was

originally made for a Lycian chief and carried off by its Phoenician

proprietor; but for this view there is not much evidence.

[Illustration: FIG. 81. SPHINXES: LYCIAN SARCOPHAGUS.]

The two ends are adorned, with consummate taste and adaptation to space,

with mythic subjects. Above, at one end, are a pair of griffins, at the

other a pair of sphinxes, whose beautiful faces might be those of two

angels of death (Fig. 81). Below are Centaurs in carefully balanced

groups. The sides of the tomb bear reliefs the subjects of which are

taken from daily life, but daily life treated quite generally, and with

a view to the laws of sculptural composition rather than with any

intention to set forth the history of a life. On one side two Amazons,

each in a four-horse chariot and attended by a female charioteer, attack

a lion. On the other side five men on horseback close in upon a boar.

The hunters are all young men of the type of the riders on the frieze of

the Parthenon, to some of whom in fact they bear a very close

resemblance. But the chariot used for lion-hunting savours rather of

Assyria than of Greece. The reliefs were fully coloured, such

accessories as reins and spears being filled in in metal.

As the Lycian Tomb carries an echo of the style of Pheidias, so the Tomb

of the Mourning Women reminds us at once of the works of the second

Attic school, and of Praxiteles in particular. We should date it about

B.C. 370 or 360. I can only describe in detail the scenes of the one end

of it which is selected for the illustration; of the rest of the

sculptured reliefs a very summary description must suffice. Never was

there a work of art in which death and mourning were represented in so

varied and so exquisitely subdued a fashion. The sarcophagus is like an

artistic lament, written in many verses, and composed in different keys,

but still constantly returning to and hovering about the loss of some

dignified and much-regretted person. In the engraving (Fig. 82) we see

at the top two corresponding groups, in each of which is a bearded man

seated in an attitude of dejection, while a younger man standing before

him holds discourse with him. The subject of which he speaks is, we can

scarcely doubt, the death of the ruler who was the master and protector

of both, and whose departure causes widely spread sorrow in the land.

Just below, in the gable, are three seated women, who also seem to talk

on the same theme. They remind us of a fine passage in the dirge

pronounced by David over Saul and Jonathan[320], ‘Ye daughters of

Israel, weep over Saul, who

[Illustration: FIG. 82. SARCOPHAGUS OF MOURNERS: END.]

clothed you in scarlet with other delights, who put on ornaments of gold

on your apparel.’ The main field is occupied by three women standing,

separated one from the other by pillars of Ionic form. In the attitude

of all there is something of pensiveness, as it would seem to us, but to

a Greek eye it would mean more than thought,--sorrow. The poses are

precisely those to which we are accustomed in the Attic family groups;

and there can be little doubt that the artist who made this sarcophagus

belonged to the school, Praxitelean in character, which produced the

stelae of Athens. The lowest line of sculpture in the engraving is on a

very small scale and in low relief; it represents scenes of hunting and

the bringing home of the booty.

The remaining three faces of the sarcophagus correspond with that which

we have described in subject and in style, the other end closely so. On

each side we find--besides the lowest relief, which runs all

round--above, a funeral procession, in which a hearse is convoyed to the

grave by a chariot and led horses, and below, six more women in mourning

attitudes standing between pillars. The number of these female figures

is thus eighteen. It would puzzle many a modern artist to solve the

artistic problem thus set, to produce eighteen figures of women, all

young and of the same type, all standing in poses both in themselves

elegant but yet suggestive of grief, and so different one from the other

that there is no sameness or repetition. But artistic problems of this

sort had a special attraction for Greek artists of the best period--for

the artist who planned the Parthenon frieze as well as for the artists

of the Mausoleum. And no solution could be found more perfect than that

offered us in the present case. The eighteen women have been compared to

a dirge of eighteen stanzas; and though to sustain the comparison the

dirge would be somewhat monotonous, that fact perhaps would not make it

less impressive.

M. Reinach well observes that the whole form of this monument is taken

from that of a temple. The columns support an entablature, above which

rises a pediment. Between the columns stand statues, as very often in

Greek temples and in monuments such as the Lycian heroon (Fig. 74). No

doubt, morphologically, the sarcophagus is a miniature temple, as the

temple itself is a beautified and idealized house; but in Greece every

form of monument soon acquires a decoration specially suited to it; thus

the form and decoration of this tomb are an able adaptation rather than

a survival.

If our assignment of the date of the sarcophagus to about B.C. 370 or

360 be correct, we may almost venture to assign a name to its possessor.

Though we do not know much of the history of Sidon, we do know that at

this period the throne of the city was occupied by a king named Strato,

in whose honour the people of Athens passed a decree, in return for

favours done to their envoys. The text of this decree is extant[321]. As

Strato was thus on excellent terms with the people of Athens; what more

natural than that Athens should lend an artist for the decoration of his

sarcophagus either to him or to his successor?

By far the most beautiful and the most noteworthy of the Sidonian

sarcophagi is that which bears the name of Alexander the Great. At

first, when the discovery was made, some writers expressed the opinion

that it was the tomb of Alexander himself. Alexander however was buried,

as we know on quite sufficient testimony, not at Sidon but at

Alexandria[322]. And though the coffin is quite worthy of holding the

bones of the greatest of kings, yet Alexander’s taste was probably too

florid to be content with a mere shrine of marble. Moreover, it is

almost certain that no Greek was the occupant, for inside were found

linen bands, such as were used for swaddling the corpses of Oriental,

but not of Hellenic, princes. The body which had been thus swathed has

disappeared.

But though the great sarcophagus never held the body of Alexander, yet

its sculptures are an important artistic and even historical record of

some of his achievements. Let us briefly consider them in order.

According to analogy, we should expect to find in the pedimental scenes

of the sarcophagus the best clue to its attribution: with them therefore

we will begin. In examining all the scenes, we must discriminate with

the utmost care between the dress of Macedonians and Greeks on one side

and that of the Persians, Phoenicians, and other Asiatic peoples on the

other. Greeks appear here, as in all works of art, usually with body

either bare or covered with a cuirass, at the bottom of which is a

leather flap. Sometimes a chlamys floats from their shoulders. They

carry sword and shield, or a lance, and wear helmets: the Macedonian

helmet rises in a peak at the top and has cheek-pieces. The dress of the

Asiatics is less varied: they wear a loose chiton, sleeves cover their

arms to the wrist, and trousers reach to the ankle; on their heads is

the Phrygian cap, the flaps of which often cover the mouth; a loose coat

with sleeves, almost like the jacket of a hussar, is often attached to

them at the neck and hangs behind. This is the candys, often mentioned

by ancient writers. Xenophon[323] says that soldiers put their arms

through the sleeves when on parade.

In the first pediment we have a fighting scene. The fighting is between

Macedonians on one side and Persians on the other. The most prominent

figure, who occupies the midmost place, is an Asiatic cavalier, who

strikes down at a Greek soldier. His Persian companions overthrow the

Macedonians opposed to them. We have, in fact, a victory of Asiatics

over Europeans. In the opposite pediment (Fig. 83) is a scene less easy

to interpret. Here the combatants are all Greek or Macedonian. The most

prominent figure is that of a fully armed foot-soldier, who drives his

sword into the throat of a youth who kneels at his feet.

In the frieze below the pediment last mentioned (Fig. 83), we again see

an Asiatic horseman, apparently the hero of the first pediment, as

central figure, victorious over a Greek opponent, whose helmet, of form

not Macedonian, lies beside him. On either side of the horseman there

charges fiercely a Macedonian soldier against Asiatics, who are clearly

over-matched. In the corresponding frieze at the other end is a scene in

which a party of Asiatics hunt the panther.

[Illustration: FIG. 83. ALEXANDER SARCOPHAGUS: END.]

Before leaving these scenes, we may observe that it seems clear that the

Asiatic chief already twice repeated is the tenant of the tomb. His

dress is quite suitable for that of a ruler of Sidon: his position is

marked as unique. The scenes in which he takes part are no doubt his

hunting and his petty wars with neighbouring princes, whose armies, like

all armies at the time, were mixed, consisting partly of Macedonians,

partly of Greek mercenaries, and partly of native troops. In knowing so

little of the history of the time, we lose the clue that we might

otherwise possess as to the particular events portrayed.

[Illustration: FIG. 84. ALEXANDER SARCOPHAGUS: LION HUNT.]

If we accept this interpretation, we shall be able to explain one at

least of the long friezes which adorn the sides of the sarcophagus (Fig.

84)[324]. The subject of it is a lion-hunt. In the midst is a group,

about which the whole scene is balanced. The lion has turned to bay, and

flung himself upon the horse ridden by an Asiatic cavalier, who is

doubtless the Sidonian monarch of previous scenes. He defends himself

with energy; and help is approaching from both sides. On one side,

galloping to his aid, Alexander himself, notable for his regal fillet or

diadema, and the intense expression observable in most of his portraits.

On the other side comes a Macedonian noble, perhaps Hephaestion, a

beautiful figure, but without the diadema. At the two ends of the relief

are other groups--a Persian drawing the bow, a servant running up armed

with a pike, a Greek and a Persian striking down a stag. We can easily

understand that to accompany Alexander in his hunting, and to be rescued

by him from the attack of a lion, was enough to confer great distinction

on any Asiatic potentate, and we cannot be surprised that he should

think the event worthy of record on his tomb.

The remaining frieze is that which has attracted most attention[325]. It

is a representation of the conquering charge of Alexander and his

companions at one of his battles, perhaps that of Issus. From the left

comes the Great King, a lion’s skin on his head, overthrowing, by a

furious charge, a Persian noble who tries to stop his way. An elderly

man, perhaps Parmenio, charges at the same moment from the right with

like success; in the midst is a third Macedonian leader striking down at

a Persian, one of the noblest figures ever executed in marble. In the

field is a _mêlée_ of Greeks and Persians, the former having by much the

better of the fray. In this scene the intention certainly seems to be to

glorify Alexander and his generals; and it is not easy to find any

allusion to deeds of the Sidonian king. He can scarcely be one of the

overthrown Persian horsemen. The whole composition should be compared

with the well-known Pompeian mosaic which represents the battle of

Issus: the group of Alexander and his immediate foe is composed in the

two scenes in almost exactly the same way. We engrave finally (Fig. 85)

one of the lions which decorate the upper corners of the coffin.

[Illustration: FIG. 85. ALEXANDER SARCOPHAGUS: A LION.]

It is most probable that this tomb contained the remains of a king

mentioned in history. About 350 B.C. Sidon had revolted against Persia

under Artaxerxes Ochus, and the revolt had been mercilessly suppressed

by the Persian king. As a natural result, the city regarded Alexander,

when in his victorious course he reached Sidon, as a deliverer rather

than as a foe. While Tyre resisted to the death, Sidon yielded at once.

A King Strato was then ruling. For reasons of his own Alexander directed

Hephaestion to depose him, and to set up in his place a member of the

royal house named Abdalonymus. The latter, however, did not reign very

long, as after this Phoenicia became a bone of contention between the

Ptolemies and the Seleucidae. It seems a fair historical conjecture that

the great sarcophagus is that of Abdalonymus, who seems to have been the

last of the native royal race, and who records on his tomb alike his own

exploits and those of his hero and protector Alexander.

The beauty of the whole sarcophagus cannot be judged from our

representations, few in number and small in size. To be appreciated

fully, the great monument must be seen in its place in the Museum at

Constantinople: its beauty and preservation are alike overpowering. Much

of the colouring still remains[326], but the accessories, swords, bits

of horses, and the like, once filled in in bronze and silver, have

disappeared. The style is a style of wonderful vigour of grouping and

skill in execution. Altogether it is one of the world’s masterpieces.

The artistic school of this great work of art remains yet to be

determined. The names of Eutychides and Euthycrates, great sculptors of

the end of the fourth century, have been suggested. But the truth is

that in this sarcophagus we are face to face with a work of a character

quite new to us, in some ways a more masterly work of the Greek chisel

than we had before possessed. Hitherto we had been able to divide Greek

reliefs into high relief, half relief, and bas relief. But the artist of

these friezes mixes all these styles, in order to produce the desired

effect, with masterful boldness. We must wait until time and fresh

discoveries enable us to determine his artistic genealogy.

The nearest of Greek sarcophagi in date and style to the last of the

Sidonian series is the great Amazon sarcophagus of Vienna[327], an

admirable work of art, on the four sides of which are depicted with

much spirit the battles of the Greeks and Amazons. But we have here

regular mythologic scenes like those which adorn the great temples of

Greece; nothing personal, and nothing which has reference to the future

world. Any further consideration of Greek sarcophagi and of the Roman

sarcophagi which succeeded them would take us into another province of

the great empire of Hellenic antiquity.

THE END

OXFORD: HORACE HART

PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY

FOOTNOTES:

[1] I. 28. 36: ‘Iniecto ter pulvere curras.’

[2] Benndorf, _Griech. und Sicil. Vasenbilder_, pl. i.

[3] Benndorf, _Griech. und Sicil. Vasenbilder_, pl. xxxiii.

[4] _Mon. dell’ Inst._ ix. 39.

[5] Rayet, _Monum. de l’Art Antique_, pl. lxxv.

[6] Rayet, text to above plate.

[7] See below, Ch. VII, VIII.

[8] _Iliad_, xvi. 666.

[9] Klein, _Euphronios_, p. 272. Iris and a female figure stand on

either side. Some writers, interpreting the latter as Eos, have seen in

the dead body that of Memnon. The point is immaterial to our present

purpose.

[10] Dumont, _Céramiques de la Grèce propre_, pl. xxvii.

[11] _Mon. dell’ Inst._ ix. 32. We reproduce only the central group of

the painting.

[12] _Gräber der Hellenen_, p. 42, pl. viii. Stackelberg found

the coffin himself near the Acharnian Gate at Athens, and drew it

immediately on discovery.

[13] Pottier et Reinach, _La Nécropole de Myrina_, p. 101.

[14] Herodotus, iv. 26. The word γευέσια may perhaps mean, as some have

suggested, the anniversary of the death, if death be regarded as birth

into a new life. The early Christians seem to have adopted this view.

[15] P. 519; _Charon_, 22.

[16] II. p. 926; _De Luctu_, 9.

[17] Plutarch, _Solon_, 21.

[18] _Athen. Mittheil._ i. 143.

[19] Plutarch, _Aristides_. 21.

[20] _Athen. Mittheil._ 1893, p. 53.

[21] See below, Chap. VI.

[22] _Ephem. Archaiol._ 1886, pl. iv.

[23] Benndorf, _Griech. und Sicil. Vasenb._ pl. xxi, 2: cf. xxi. 1,

xxii, xxv, &c.

[24] Dumont, _Céram. de la Grèce_, pl. xxv.

[25] Pottier, _Lécythes blancs_, pl. iv: cf. p. 74.

[26] No. 735 of the Athens Museum.

[27] Pl. lx.

[28] In a later Chapter (X) I show by instances how close is sometimes

the resemblance in reliefs and on vases between the toilet scenes of

daily life and scenes of offering to the dead.

[29] _Catalogue of Vases_, IV. pl. iv. I cannot accept the view of the

author of the Catalogue, that all three figures are those of mourners.

[30] As to the pillar (κίων) and table (τράπέζα), see Chap. VIII.

[31] _Psyche, Seelencult und Unsterblichkeitsglaube der Griechen_, 1894.

[32] _Odyssey_, iv. 560.

[33] x. 28. Cf. Robert, _Die Nekyia des Polygnot_. Halle, 1892.

[34] _Antike Denkmäler_, published by the German Archaeological

Institute, vol. i. pl. xxiii. 3.

[35] Nos. 1 and 2 on the plate already cited.

[36] Pottier, _Lécythes blancs_, pl. 3: cf. Benndorf, _Griech. und

Sicil. Vasenb._ pl. 27.

[37] X. 28. 7.

[38] See _Wiener Vorlegeblätter_, Series E, pl. i-iii: cf. Baumeister,

_Denkmäler_, article ‘Unterwelt.’

[39] Cf. the relief published in _Athen. Mittheil._ iv. pl. ix.

[40] L. 50.

[41] I. 28. 6.

[42] _Agesilaus_, xi. 8.

[43] See Chap. XI.

[44] II. p. 364 E (translation of Davies and Vaughan).

[45] Chap. XII.

[46] Plutarch, _Pelopidas_, 20-22.

[47] _Odyssey_, xi. 602.

[48] For this see, among other works, Schliemann, _Mycenae and Tiryns_;

Schuchhardt, _Excavations of Schliemann_ (Eng. trans.); Perrot et

Chipiez, _La Grèce Primitive_; Gardner, _New Chapters in Greek History_.

[49] Schuchhardt, _Schliemann’s Ausgrabungen_, p. 176.

[50] Perrot et Chipiez, _La Grèce Primitive_, p. 638.

[51] Schliemann, _Mycenae_, pl. E.

[52] Perrot et Chipiez, pl. vi.

[53] _Journal of Hellenic Studies_, ii. p. 136, pl. xiii.

[54] Helbig, _La Question mycénéenne_. 1896.

[55] Schliemann, _Mycenae_, p. 81.

[56] Ibid. p. 86.

[57] Perrot et Chipiez, p. 770.

[58] The most recent account of these, by M. Joubin, will be found in

the _Bulletin de Corresp. hellén._ 1895, p. 69.

[59] II. 22, 2 (Ταντάλου) ἰδὼν οἰδα ἐν Σιπύλῳ τάφον Θέας ἄξιον.

[60] Texier, _Description_, pl. cxxx.

[61] Weber, _Le Sipyle_, pl. i.

[62] Perrot et Chipiez, v. 83. Mr. Ramsay, while allowing the general

excellence of this drawing, disputes its accuracy in some particulars.

See _Journ. Hell. Stud._ 1889, p. 155.

[63] Perrot et Chipiez, v. p. 103.

[64] Perrot et Chipiez, v. p. 111. Another drawing in _Journ. Hell.

Stud._ 1888, p. 368 (Ramsay).

[65] _Journ. Hell. Stud._ pl. xviii.

[66] With M. Perrot’s work on Phrygia, it is necessary to compare Mr.

Ramsay’s ‘Study of Phrygian Art’ in the _Journal of Hellenic Studies_

for 1889 and 1890.

[67] I. p. 61.

[68] See the _Catalogue of Sculpture_ of the British Museum, or Perrot

and Chipiez, vol. v.

[69] _Brit. Mus. Cat. of Sculpture_, i. No. 80; cf. Perrot and Chipiez,

vol. v. p. 396.

[70] _Anabasis_, vi. 29.

[71] _Odyssey_, xx. 66.

[72] _Catalogue of Sculpture_, i. p. 53, No. 93.

[73] _Brit. Mus. Cat. of Sculpture_, i. No. 86. Engraved in Murray,

_Hist. Sculpture_, i. pl. iii-v; Cesnola, _Cyprus_, pl. 16, 17; Brunn,

_Denkmäler_, pl. 102.

[74] _Cat. of Sculpture_, No. 97; Murray, i. pl. v.

[75] _Ann. dell’ Inst._ xix. pl. F.

[76] Plutarch, _Lycurgus_, 27.

[77] _Athen. Mittheil._ vii. 163.

[78] _Journal of Hellenic Studies_, v. 131. I return to the subject in

the next chapter.

[79] _Athen. Mittheil._ x. 160.

[80] See Maspéro, _Life in Ancient Egypt and Assyria_, p. 145.

[81] _Athen. Mittheil._ ii. 25.

[82] _Catalogue_, No. 1417.

[83] Perrot et Chipiez, ii. p. 107.

[84] _Athen. Mittheil._ iv. pl. 7.

[85] See a paper by Pervanoglu, _Das Familienmahl auf altgriech.

Grabsteinen_.

[86] _Brit. Mus. Cat. of Coins: Thrace_, p. 90.

[87] _Journ. Hell. Stud._ v. p. 116.

[88] Ibid. v. p. 106.

[89] _Athen. Mittheil._ 1879, p. 165.

[90] Cf. Furtwängler, _Sabouroff Coll._ Introd. p. 39.

[91] Buchholz, _Homerische Realien_, iii. 1, 334.

[92] Chap. vii. p. 20, ed. Kenyon.

[93] _Brit. Mus. Cat. of Marbles_, No. 753.

[94] Here the female figure seems decidedly the taller, but this may be

the result of the law of Greek reliefs, to place the heads of persons

represented on one level.

[95] _Coll. Sabouroff_, pl. 29.

[96] Pl. 16.

[97] Roscher, _Lexikon_, i. p. 2555.

[98] _La Collection Sabouroff_, Introd. p. 28.

[99] _Athen. Mittheil._ viii. 16; Le Bas, _Voyage_, pl. 103.

[100] _Athen. Mittheil._ iii. 380; Friedrichs-Wolters, _Gipsabgüsse_,

No. 1076; Roscher, _Lexikon_, i. p. 2557.

[101] _Museum Marbles_, ix. pl. 34.

[102] _Mon. dell’ Inst._ xi. 55.

[103] _Journ. Hell. Stud._ vii. 1.

[104] _Arch. Zeitung_, 1883, p. 285.

[105] _Monum. Grecs_, pl. i; Roscher, _Lexikon_, i. p. 405, where the

figures are wrongly called Ares and Aphrodite.

[106] Roscher, _Lexikon_, i. p. 2571.

[107] Chap. I.

[108] _Il._ xi. 371; _Od._ xii. 14, &c. Cf. the phrase, τύμβῳ τε στήλῃ

τε, τὸ γὰρ γέρας ἐστὶ θανόντων.

[109] II. 26.

[110] ‘Opere tectorio exornari.’

[111] ‘Columellam, aut mensam aut labellam.”

[112] These passages are collected by Messrs. Pottier and Reinach in

the _Bulletin de Corresp. hellénique_, 1882, p. 396.

[113] Gerhard, _Auserl. Vasenbilder_, pl. 199: cf. _Mon. dell’ Inst._

viii. pl. 5; Benndorf, _Griech. und Sicil. Vasenbilder_, pl. 24.

[114] _Arch. Jahrbuch_, 1891, p. 197.

[115] e.g. _Mon. dell’ Inst._ viii. 5.

[116] Stackelberg, _Gräber der Hellenen_, xlv. 3. The deceased lady,

seated on the τράπεζα, was, no doubt, represented as draped, but the

wash of colour has worn away.

[117] Paus. ix. 30, 7.

[118] Ibid. ix. 25, 2.

[119] Ibid. iv. 32, 3.

[120] VII. 700.

[121] _Athen. Mittheil._ x. pl. 13.

[122] _Ecclesiazusae_, l. 996. Cf. l. 538.

[123] Ibid. l. 1110.

[124] An exhaustive article on these vases will be found in _Athen.

Mittheil._ 1891, p. 371 (Wolters). The writer maintains that they

appear only on the tombs of the unmarried. For a representation of a

terra-cotta vase on a χῶμα see p. 379.

[125] _Athen. Mittheil._ 1887, pl. ix.

[126] Athens _Cat._ 884. The lekythos on the right, however, is a

restoration, all except part of its foot.

[127] _Anthology_, vii. 182.

[128] _Ad Leocharem_, p. 1086.

[129] For the colouring of these votive figures see Collignon, _Hist.

de la Sculpture grecque_, vol. i, frontispiece; _Ephemeris Arch._ 1887,

pl. ix; _Antike Denkmäler des Arch. Inst._ i. pl. 39.

[130] _Athen. Mittheil._ 1893, p. 83.

[131] This matter is treated in detail in Brückner’s _Ornament und

Format der Attischen Grabstelen_: see pl. i. of that work.

[132] Perrot et Chipiez, ii. 270.

[133] Brückner, _Ornament und Formen der Att. Grabstelen_, pl. i. 2.

[134] Athens _Cat._ 975.

[135] Ibid. 729.

[136] Ibid. 754.

[137] Ibid. 28.

[138] _Athen. Mittheil._ vol. iv.

[139] _Gräber der Hellenen_, pl. 56.

[140] _Septem c. Theb._ 524.

[141] _Athen. Mittheil._ xii. 105.

[142] Chap. I, above.

[143] Athens _Cat._ No. 775.

[144] L. 168.

[145] Athens _Cat._ No. 783.

[146] Athens _Cat._ No. 744.

[147] Athens _Cat._ No. 770.

[148] _Anthol. Palat._ vii. 344.

[149] See F. Imhoof-Blumer and P. Gardner, _Numismatic Commentary on

Pausanias_, pl. E, p. 19.

[150] Published in the _Journ. Hell. Stud._ vi. p. 32.

[151] _Anth. Palat._ vii. 169.

[152] Plutarch, _Cic._ 26.

[153] VII. 37. Cf. 707.

[154] _Anth. Palat._ vii. 62.

[155] See especially a paper by Professor Loeschcke in _Athen.

Mittheil._ iv. 292.

[156] Pliny, _N. H._ xxxv. 153.

[157] _Athen. Mittheil._ iv. pl. vi.

[158] For example, Dr. Waldstein, in the first volume of the _Journal

of Hellenic Studies_, p. 168.

[159] _Athen. Mittheil._ iv. pl. iii.

[160] I. 90. τειχίζειν δὲ ... φειδομένους μήτε ἰδίου μήτε δημοσίου

οἰκοδομήματος.

[161] The head also does not belong to the statue, and the right arm

and other parts are restorations. See the Berlin _Denkmäler_, i. pl.

31, 32.

[162] For the basket see Fig. 62: for the attitude cf. Pl. XXVI.

Epigrams to be placed on tombs adorned with statues of women are to be

found in the _Anthology_, vii. 649, &c. As a replica of the ‘Penelope’

in very high relief exists in the Vatican, we may regard it as likely

that the original was not entirely detached from the background.

[163] Athens _Cat._ No. 218.

[164] Athens _Cat._ No. 219.

[165] e.g. Kaibel, No. 505, from Tricca. The formula of dedication is

Ἑρμάον Χθονίου.

[166] See Plates XXV, XXVI.

[167] _Athen. Mittheil._ iv. pl. i, ii. Cf. _C. A. G._ pl. i.

[168] Michaelis, _Ancient Marbles in Great Britain_, p. 385, whence our

engraving is taken.

[169] _C. A. G._ pl. iv. As to the pentathlon, see the _Journ. Hell.

Stud._ i. p. 210.

[170] _Athen. Mittheil._ iii. pl. 14.

[171] These are lost, but the holes in which they were fixed remain

over the forehead.

[172] Reins, sword, and lance were added in metal, as is shown by the

remaining holes in which these were fixed. Colour was doubtless freely

added.

[173] _Bull. Corr. Hellén._ iv. pl. 7.

[174] Athens _Cat._ No. 873.

[175] Athens _Cat._ No. 828.

[176] It has been suggested that the gesture is one of adoration in

presence of the deities of the next world.

[177] _Anthologia_, vii. 338.

[178] For instance, Athens _Cat._ No. 1192.

[179] At Rome. Published in the _Ann. e Mon. dell’ Inst._ 1855, pl. xv.

Cf. Friedrichs-Wolters, _Gipsabgüsse_, No. 1010.

[180] Athens _Cat._ No. 752.

[181] VII. 279.

[182] Athens _Cat._ No. 731.

[183] _C. A. G._ pl. xv.

[184] _C. A. G._ pl. xvii.

[185] _Br. Mus. Cat. of Marbles_, No. 721; _Mus. Marb._ ix. pl. 38.

[186] _Journ. Hell. Stud._ vi. pl. B.

[187] Such as Friedrichs-Wolters _Gipsabgüsse_, No. 1024: _Arch.

Zeitung_, 1871, pl. 53.

[188] _Anthol. Palat._ vi. 280.

[189] Athens _Cat._ No. 1196.

[190] _C. A. G._ pl. xxxvii.

[191] _Museum Marbles_, x. 3.

[192] Athens _Cat._ No. 711.

[193] Ibid. No. 765; _C. A. G._ pl. xlviii.

[194] The two notions that in such groups it is always the seated or

that it is always the standing person who is dead are alike fallacious.

[195] Kaibel, No. 557.

[196] _C. A. G._ Nos. 134, 139.

[197] Ibid. No. 158.

[198] Athens _Cat._ No. 717.

[199] Athens _Cat._ No. 870.

[200] Ibid. No. 749. A photograph of the relief being unsatisfactory,

we copy the engraving at p. 70 of the _C. A. G._

[201] VII. 730, by Perses.

[202] _C. A. G._ No. 333, pl. lxxxiv.

[203] I have a vivid recollection of the admiration expressed for the

examples in the British Museum by Mr. Ruskin.

[204] Pl. xxxix; cf. Athens _Cat._ No. 724.

[205] _Sabouroff Coll._ Introd. p. 12.

[206] Plato, _Theaetetus_, p. 198 A.

[207] Rangabe, _Antiq. Hell._ ii. pp. 539, 842; cf. _C. I. G._ 1012 b,

7034, and Aristophanes, _Acharn._ l. 49.

[208] Benndorf, _Griech. und Sicil. Vasenbilder_, pl. xv.

[209] e.g. Benndorf, _op. cit._ pl. xxv; Dumont, _Cér. de la Grèce

propre_, i. pl. xxv.

[210] _Op. cit._ pl. ix.

[211] _Griech. Vasenbilder_, pl. xi.

[212] 950 and 951 in the National Museum, Athens: No. 323, pl. lxxvii,

and No. 357, pl. lxxxviii, of the _C. A. G._

[213] Figured in Brückner’s _Griech. Grabreliefs_, p. 12.

[214] _Gazette archéol._ i. pl. vii.

[215] Hermes also appears on a monument of the British Museum, a sort

of round altar on which are sculptured a man and woman hand in hand.

_Br. Mus. Cat. Sculpture_, No. 710.

[216] The example in our plate is that at Paris. The inscriptions,

Zetus, Amphion, Antiopa, are modern, and utterly incorrect.

[217] Good statements of the arguments will be found in the

Introduction to Furtwängler’s _Sabouroff Collection_, and in Brückner’s

_Griech. Grabreliefs_, 1888.

[218] _C. A. G._ No. 1, pl. i. See above, p. 141.

[219] _C. A. G._ No. 36, pl. xv.

[220] _Athen. Mittheil._ viii. pl. 17.

[221] Ibid. pl. 2.

[222] Ibid. pl. 3.

[223] _C. A. G._ No. 22, pl. xiii.

[224] Ibid. No. 66, pl. xxviii.

[225] Michaelis, _Anc. Marbles in Gr. Britain_, p. 229, No. 7.

[226] Luke ii. 24.

[227] _C. A. G._ No. 19, pl. xi.

[228] Ibid. No. 14, pl. ix. Barracco Collection.

[229] _C. A. G._ pls. ciii, cxxxi, &c.

[230] A physician named Jason examining a patient, on a stele of the

British Museum: _Cat._ No. 629.

[231] _Epitaph._ 13.

[232] See above, Chap. III.

[233] _Arch. Zeitung_, 1871, pl. 49; _Journ. Hell. Stud._ v. p. 138.

[234] Roscher, _Lexikon_, i. p. 2539. The relief is in the Louvre.

[235] I. 2. 3.

[236] VII. 22. 6.

[237] Overbeck, _Geschichte der gr. Plastik_, ed. 4. ii. p. 22.

[238] I have transcribed these inscriptions as they stand, letter by

letter, retaining χσ for ξ, ο for ω, οι for ῳ, and so on.

[239] VII. 304, by Peisander.

[240] VII. 463, by Leonidas.

[241] _Grabgedichte der griechischen Anthologie._ Vienna, 1889.

[242] _Jahrbuch des Inst._ 1895, p. 204.

[243] _New Chapters in Greek History_, chap. x.

[244] Kaibel, _Epigrammata Graeca_, No. 461; _C.I.G._ i. 1051. Cf.

Paus. i. 43. 3.

[245] The published copy is very defective, and of the last two lines

only the general sense can be made out.

[246] _Brit. Mus. Greek Inscr._ i. p. 102. Cf. _New Chapters in Greek

History_ p. 322.

[247] Kaibel, No. 183.

[248] Kaibel, No. 179. Roehl, _Inscrr. Gr. Antiqq._ No. 342.

[249] This is the rendering of Roehl. The conceit is rather far-fetched

for so early a period.

[250] Kaibel, No. 180: Roehl, No. 343.

[251] Kaibel, No. 182.

[252] Ibid. No. 487.

[253] Ibid. No. 486.

[254] Ibid. No. 488.

[255] Ibid. No. 209.

[256] Ibid. No. 490.

[257] Kaibel, No. 38.

[258] Ibid. No. 34.

[259] Kaibel, No. 189.

[260] Ibid. No. 482.

[261] Ibid. No. 493.

[262] Ibid. No. 491.

[263] Fortune, Τύχη, was represented in art as holding a rudder and a

cornucopia.

[264] That is, the Charitesia, games held at Orchomenus.

[265] Kaibel, No. 191.

[266] Ibid. No. 224.

[267] Ibid. No. 496.

[268] Ibid. No. 497.

[269] Kaibel, No. 473.

[270] _Anth. Palat._ vii. 64, anonymous.

[271] Stephani, _Der ausruhende Herakles_, p. 59. The relief has

disappeared.

[272] Kaibel, No. 463.

[273] Ibid. No. 462.

[274] VII. 545.

[275] _Journ. Hell. Stud._ 3 p. 112.

[276] Kaibel, No. 465.

[277] Ibid. No. 218.

[278] Ibid. No. 195.

[279] Ibid. No. 190.

[280] _Anth. Palat._ vii. 163. Version of J. Williams.

[281] _Anth. Palat._ vii. 489. Version of J. Williams.

[282] Ibid. vii. 451. Version of J. Williams.

[283] Ibid. vii. 321. Version of J. Williams.

[284] _Anth. Palat._ vii. 657. Version of J. Williams.

[285] Ibid. vii. 207. Version of J. Williams.

[286] _Anth. Palat._ vii. 476. Version of J. Williams.

[287] Ibid. vii. 554. My version.

[288] Ibid. vii. 465.

[289] Ibid. vii. 735. My version.

[290] _Anth. Palat._ vii. 145. My version.

[291] _Brit. Mus. Cat. of Sculpture_, i. No. 766; Fellows, _Lycia_, p.

116; Petersen, _Reisen in Lykien_, ii. p. 193.

[292] For a full account of this monument see _Annali dell’ Inst._ 1874

and 1875; _Mon. dell’ Inst._ x.; cf. also Benndorf and Niemann, _Reisen

in Carien und Lykien_, p. 89, pl. xxiv.

[293] From Overbeck, _Geschichte der gr. Plastik_, ii. 191.

[294] _Annali dell’ Inst._ 1875, pl. DE.

[295] All that is preserved of steed and rider is the foreleg of the

rearing horse.

[296] _Arch. Zeit._ 1882, p. 359.

[297] _Das Heroon von Gjölbaschi-Trysa._ O. Benndorf and G. Niemann.

Wien, 1889. Our engraving is taken from pl. i. of this admirable work.

[298] Newton, _Travels and Discoveries_, ii. pl. 23.

[299] As to these see the _Antiquités du Bosphore Cimmérien_, a

magnificent work, now republished at a moderate price by M. Salomon

Reinach. Also Newton, _Essays in Art and Archaeology_, ch. ix., _Greek

Art in the Kimmerian Bosporos_.

[300] _The Antiquary_, vol. liv. pp. 273-362.

[301] Mr. Oldfield has kindly allowed me to copy a drawing in which his

latest views are incorporated.

[302] _Fab._ 223.

[303] ‘Aere ... uacuo pendentia Mausolea.’ _Epig._ 1.

[304] Comparing Martial, _Epig._ ii. 14: ‘Inde petit centum pendentia

tecta columnis.’

[305] _N. H._ 36, 30.

[306] _v. l._ cvi.

[307] _v. l._ centenos sexagenos.

[308] _v. l._ pedes ccccxl.

[309] _v. l._ uocauere circumitum.

[310] _v. l._ altitudinem inferiorem aequat.

[311] In a rough statement like this it is unnecessary to take into

account the slight difference between the English and the Greek foot.

[312] _Hist. Disc._ ii. p. 191.

[313] _Funérailles et diverses manières d’ensevelir_, &c., quoted by

Newton in his _History of Discoveries_, vol. i. p. 76.

[314] _Journ. Hell. Stud._ xiii. p. 188.

[315] The whole of the Amazon frieze is now figured in the Berlin

_Denkmäler_, vol. ii., and in Overbeck’s _Plastik_, 4th ed., ii. p. 106.

[316] For an account of these see the Berlin _Antike Denkmäler_, vol.

i. part 4; also _Bulletin de Corr. hellén._ 1895, p. 69.

[317] _Une nécropole royale à Sidon._ Hamdy Bey and Théodore Reinach.

A good account by Studniczka in the _Jahrbuch_ of the German Institute

for 1894, p. 204.

[318] This and the subsequent engravings are taken from the plates

of the magnificent work of Hamdy Bey and M. Théodore Reinach, _Une

nécropole royale à Sidon_, by kind permission of authors and publisher.

[319] Chaps. IX, X.

[320] 2 Sam. i. 24.

[321] Hicks, _Greek Historical Inscriptions_, p. 155. The marble is in

the Oxford Museum.

[322] The evidence is put together by Mr. Chinnock in the _Classical

Review_ of June, 1893.

[323] _Cyropaedeia_, viii. 3, 10.

[324] It must be observed that although we are obliged in the engraving

to bisect this relief, it is really continuous. The head of the lion in

the upper line fits on to the body of the lion in the lower line.

[325] It is figured not only in the works already cited, but also in

Overbeck’s _Geschichte der Plastik_, ii. p. 403, and in other works.

[326] As to this and all other details, see the valuable remarks of M.

Reinach, _op. cit._ p. 325.

[327] Robert, _Die antiken Sarkophag-Reliefs_, ii. pl. 27.

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber: can scarely

have aimed=> can scarcely have aimed {pg 81}

in Attica, at Spata, and at Menidi=> in Attica, at Sparta, and at Menidi

{pg 105}