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.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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}