If the masonry, probably of brick, had received a richly sculptured stone revetment, like that which covered the Assyrian walls, some remains of this would certainly have been found. It seems, however, that the wall surfaces were ornamented only with paintings. In proportion as carved decoration was diminished, the architectural treatment of the enclosing masses was increased, by doors, windows, and niches, and by the repeatedly stepped epistyle beams and its crowning scotia, richly ornamented with leaves over the lintels. Only the inner surfaces of the door-jambs were used for representations in relief, the subjects being partly mythological, partly ceremonial. The ruins of Pasargadæ show such a mythological figure, in long, close-lying garments without folds, according to the Assyrian tradition, though of somewhat lighter proportion. It has a less pronounced Semitic profile, Egyptianized by long twisted ram’s horns upon the head, and with the irrelevant ornaments of the Nile situla, disks, and uræos-serpents; the greater part of it is so destroyed that only the outline is recognizable. Upon the terrace of Persepolis there is repeated a kingly or divine being lifting a lion into the air while strangling it, such as appears in more vigorous design upon the reliefs of Nineveh; or this figure pierces with a short sword a bull, lion, or griffin standing upright upon its hinder legs. One of these peculiar mythological representations is given in Fig. 91. The head of the male figure, ornamented with a diadem, is distinguished from the Assyrian type only by a longer and less protruding nose, and by some diminution of the luxuriant hair and beard. The exposed limbs, the arms and legs, have more slender proportions; with a softer and somewhat Hellenized swing of the outlines, there is less modelling than was found upon the Tigris. The expression of great muscular power, of striking and healthy energy of action, peculiar to the Assyrians, is lost in Persia. The garments are not sack-like and close-fitting; with the richly patterned treatment of surfaces, there is an attempt, not altogether fortunate, to indicate the folds of drapery and the free flow of cloth. It is possible to recognize in this respect the influence of Asiatic Hellas, falling, indeed, upon rather sterile ground, and received with little understanding. The strapped shoes take from the cramped foot its true form, being curved in the sole even more than is the case with the naked instep. The power, long since acquired by the Greeks, of so raising the hinder foot of a moving figure that only the toes touch the ground, was as far from being possessed by the Persians as was the power of causing the whole body to take part in an action—carrying forward the momentary position. The human being is apparently able neither to turn the animal away from himself, nor, by additional exertion, to give the death-blow. The opposing griffin is similarly petrified; it here appears with eagle’s head and feathered tail, occurring in other representations with lion’s head and scorpion’s tail. Both paws of the fore feet, and one of the eagle’s claws of the hind feet, are in the position of attack; one paw grasps the right arm, as it reaches towards the head of the monster; the other is laid upon the left, which pierces its body with a broad and pointed dagger. At the same time, one of the bird-like hinder legs touches the front knee of the human figure. But nowhere is there the energetic movement of seizing or pressure found upon Assyrian sculptures; there is a posture, but no action; and thus the lion-eagle monster has no frightful power—only something hatefully comical in figure and bearing. Nor has the bull or lion, which occasionally takes the place of the griffin, anything of the Assyrian force; the scene might be considered as a harmless play of the man with the animal, were it not for the sword half buried in the body.
The most accessible subjects for such an art were naturally mere ceremonial representations, where the action, reduced to a minimum, was naturally neither momentary nor energetic. There are the promenades of the king, with staff and lotos-flower in his hands, followed by eunuchs, one third of his size, who carry his handkerchief and sunshade, and cool him with a fan of peacock’s feathers. It is worthy of curious notice that, upon a door at the back of the palace, the sunshade is omitted from the relief, as being of use only in going out. A casual observation of Persian sculpture may be deceptive, and we may seem to recognize quiet dignity in what is mere want of all expression. It is thus with the frequently repeated ceremonial scenes, the architectural employment of which has been mentioned above. (Fig. 87.) The canopied throne appears raised upon an elevation; the king sits with his feet resting upon a footstool, his retinue before him with censers. Three superposed rows of men stand as supporters of the throne, with outstretched arms bearing the platform. The figures are placed in such regular position that the effect is purely ornamental; but are individually interesting, in so far as they are intended to represent, in feature and costume, the different nationalities of the Persian empire. Notwithstanding the celebrated description of the review of the Persian army upon the banks of the Hellespont given by Herodotos, it would be hopeless to attempt to recognize among the figures the types of known tribes. Of a similar kind are the upper parts of the rock-cut reliefs upon the tombs of the Achæmenidæ, the architectural peculiarities of which have already been mentioned. Because of the sacred character of these graves, the kings are not represented enthroned, but standing upon a stepped platform before an altar, over which floats the winged and encircled deity, near the disk of the sun or moon. A consideration of the exterior treatment of the upper story of the palaces would here be in place if it could be shown that the ornamentation was indeed carved.
Persian sculpture received its most extensive application upon the buttresses of the steps placed before every palace. Here are found the ceremonial scenes of the Assyrian courts in a feeble rendering, far removed from the sharp and careful cutting of the details, and the naturalistic modelling of the bodies, peculiar to the works of Mesopotamia. Long processions of men represent different nationalities, characterized by their costumes and by the treatment of hair and beard; by their various feather-caps, hoods, capuchins, pointed hats; short skirts, with wide pantaloons; long garments, with great fulness at the bottom, and sleeves falling in multiplied folds; by the skins of animals worn as mantles; by girdles, sword-belts and swords, bows and quivers; by peculiar sandals, shoes, boots, and the like. These subjects bring to the monarch most manifold gifts—horses, dromedaries, musk-oxen, rams, goats, a wagon, elephants’ tusks, stuffs, garments (among which various kinds of stockings are even distinguishable), swords, double-headed hammers, bracelets for the arms; censers, with vessels for incense; salve, in little bowls, borne upon trays which hang like scales; wine-skins, goblets, globular and flat cake-like loaves of food, carried in the palm of the hand; carved cups and saucers; little bags, etc. Others bear only lotos-flowers and pomegranates. They are slim, narrow-chested figures; the short upper body is given in profile, without anatomical truth in general form or detail; not only without motion, but apparently incapable of it. At times the position of the arms shows, not, indeed, a gesture, but some attempt of varied position; the hands lie upon one another, or touch the mouth, the end of the beard, the hilt of the sword hanging at the side, or the quiver, or are extended so as to rest upon the shoulders of the preceding figure in the procession.
Lifeless as these appear, they are still superior to the guards, armed with a lance, who march towards each other from opposite sides, in long processions. (Fig. 92.) The heads differ from the Assyrian type only in the pointed chin-beard; the bodies alternate between uniforms of two fixed patterns. One of these is without a shield, in a closely fitting leathern garment, with awkward pantaloons bound at the ankles, and a globular cap of surpassing clumsiness. The other, distinguished by shield and plumes, with a long robe drawn up at the hips, and with wide sleeves hanging in folds, is more tolerable. The elliptical shields, like those of Bœotia, have a round cut upon both sides, in which the lance was probably placed; they are strengthened by a circular plate riveted to the centre. Upon the terrace stairs, in the triangles formed by the ascending steps, are groups of animals—lions seizing bulls from behind. Though the forms are rendered with but little understanding of detail, the entire composition is well fitted to the triangular space allowed it, and thus has a certain decorative and architectural value. The parapet of the staircase terrace is decorated with rows of highly conventionalized lotos-flowers upon leafy stems; in its centre is the winged divinity of the disk between crouching lions. These carvings upon the staircase buttress, though monotonous, were still so rich that they gave to this member much the same distinction as that of the gable in Greek architecture, to which it is somewhat similar in outline, the ascent from each side forming a triangle. The representations upon it are, in their subjects, suited to the palace fronts, where guards were in place, as well as gift-bearing deputies from tributary nations. Though the division of the surface into several horizontal stripes by rows of figures, one over another, is not artistically beautiful, it still has the advantage that the standard of proportion is not infringed upon, as is so often the case when colossal statues are placed before buildings; the disadvantage may perhaps be less when life-sized figures, like these, are dwarfed by being brought into comparison with enormous edifices.
Only one important historical scene is known—the rock-cut relief of Bi-Sueton. A king, followed by guardsmen, sets his foot and bow upon a victim lying backwards on the ground, who stretches up his hands in a beseeching manner, while a procession of nine prisoners approaches, their hands tied behind them, and bound one to the other. Above is the winged deity. The proud bearing of the king, and the stooping of the helpless enemies, show a slightly superior artistic ability. Though Persian sculpture was successful in some rare instances, the conviction must still remain that, in comparison with the art of Assyria, it was not only a dependent imitation, but failed to attain any of the superiorities of its model. That which was borrowed from other lands than Mesopotamia was superficially carried into execution in unimportant details. Strictly speaking, we can hardly acknowledge the existence of the art of sculpture in Persia, as it was without either independent foundation or any progress of its own.
Of Persian painting there are no remains or information. The walls were without doubt plastered and colored. If there had been a revetment of glazed tiles, according to the Mesopotamian practice, some fragments of this almost indestructible material would surely have been found. From analogy of the carvings, it is probable that paintings upon the walls were chiefly ornamental and of subordinate importance. Upon the principal front of the buildings there remained but little space where painted decorations could be employed; the façade of the Tomb of Darius was largely covered with inscriptions. On the other hand, the restoration of the Palace of Darius, at the head of this chapter (Fig. 77), shows that the aid of color was particularly needed upon the other sides, which would have been bare and monotonous without painted ornaments. We may suppose that the Persians felt this need, and that decorative painting was extensively employed; they were led to it by familiarity with the methods of Assyrian art, and with the colored mural decorations universal in Egypt, both which lands they considered their tributary provinces. Though we cannot speak of monumental independence in Persian sculpture and painting—of which, indeed, no ancient Orientals had any conception—the art of the land had at least the superiority that its three branches, in their application, stood in true relations to each other, inasmuch as architecture employed and brought forward the sister arts as secondary, decorative aid; painting and sculpture did not predominate in the excessive degree characteristic of the older nations of the East. The Egyptians, whose architecture, otherwise so richly developed, was chiefly restricted to the interior, made excessive use of painting and coilanaglyphics to enliven the dead masses of exterior walls. The Assyrians needed sculptured revetment and painted stucco to support and hide the weakness of their masonry, and its incapacity for architectural treatment, within and without. Merely decorative art thus gained an undue supremacy in both countries. Among the Persians, on the other hand, architecture attained its full rights by important and harmonious advances, while decorative sculpture and painting withdrew to their proper subordinate positions.