After descending a little from this area, we begin the ascent of the third and highest of these three hills; which abounds like the others with vestiges of ancient habitancy, and here and there exhibits a small portion of the foundation of the city wall. The monument of Philopappus crowns the summit. I have nothing particular to say of this edifice, but the view from it is very fine, comprising the whole of the plain of Athens, and the Saronic Gulf, and their surrounding mountains, beyond which other mountains appear in distant perspective. Indeed when lighted up, as I have seen it under a brilliant sunset, it presents a scene of matchless splendour, as enchanting to the senses as to the imagination.
The Stadium of Herodes Atticus is a little way out of Athens, among (if I may so express myself) the roots of Hymettus. The eminences which immediately bound it seem to have approached each other, but their absolute union at the circular end is artificial. The short valley thus obtained was lengthened by two great piers of rubble-work; the stone facing which once completed them is gone, and exposes the rubble, evidently laid in successive courses with a coat of stucco or mortar between each. On the right hand are vast foundations of the same nature, forming, as is supposed, the substruction of the temple of Victory, and of the immense flight of steps continued to it from the Stadium: on the left are traces of other edifices, which are said to have constituted parts of the temple of Fortune. The channel of an occasional torrent passes under the mound at the upper end. The whole effect must have been very splendid in its original state, but it is now almost reduced again to its natural condition. All its marbles and squared stones have been taken away, and the fragments of rubble which remain are hardly distinguishable from the native rock, which bursts frequently from the soil all around. The course was perhaps further lengthened by a magnificent bridge, certainly not wanted for crossing the Ilissus, and as the width of the way at the top must have been more than 60 feet, it could hardly have been intended for a mere passage, even if the Ilissus were really a river. Stuart figures the three arches as remaining, but they have all now disappeared, and some peasants were at work when I was there in detaching the squared masonry of the piers, so that a few shapeless masses of rubble will probably, in a few years, be all that remains.
The neighbourhood of Athens is everywhere scattered over with ruins, a large portion of which appear to have been tombs. With so many unappropriated fragments, it is almost impossible that we should not find some which might be conceived to be those of the celebrated men of Athens, and accordingly we find many of their names attached to these fragments. They are however, nothing more than foundations, rarely rising more than a few inches above the soil. The evidence of their appropriation is very unsatisfactory, and there is nothing in the remains themselves which would enable us to determine the nature of the edifice. Of those mentioned by Pausanias, it is probable that the greater part were little more than those of our burying-grounds, a small mound of earth, with a short column, or steelee, generally thickest upwards, placed instead of a headstone. Three men in ten days could have performed but little, and there was a law to limit to this degree of exertion the expense of a sepulchre. The place of the Academy is guessed at, rather than known. There can hardly be any great error, but there are no remains, for the few fragments of capitals, and other mouldings of buildings in that direction, cannot be traced to it. The two hills of Colonia are sufficiently evident; natural indications are more durable than artificial. The supposed situation of the Lyceum is in a smaller olive-grove on the Ilissus, a little above Athens, and hereabouts fragments have been found, but there is nothing to identify the precise spot. The whole ground abounds in these vestiges, and many of the travellers here amuse themselves in searching for antiquities. The usual expense in digging is to pay each man sixty parás per diem, with an additional present on any considerable discovery, and twelve parás per diem for every man employed is paid to the owner of the land.
After my speculations on the ancient, I should like to give you some account of the modern productions, but my idea of Turkish architecture is very imperfect, and will probably remain so, as the only place in which it can be appreciated is Constantinople. Yet in what I have seen there are some beautiful particulars, though perhaps, even more than in Italy, they are beauties of a hot climate. The stables, and some of the offices, are on the ground-floor. In our own lodging, the stoves for cooking are under the steps which ascend externally to the upper apartments. The rooms of the master of the family, and many also of those appropriated to the servants are on the first floor. There is occasionally a low story, or mezzanine, between the basement and the principal rooms, but never anything over the latter, except that in large houses there is sometimes a sort of tower rising above the general roof, and containing one large room with windows on three sides, or perhaps all round it. Such a room as this, was the hall with twenty-four windows which terminated the palace of Aladdin in the Arabian Nights. The best house I have seen is that of the bey of Corinth; the principal part of the building is in the form of the letter L, forming two sides of a square, and in the corner is a flight of steps leading to the gallery and the principal floor. This gallery is never omitted in any decent house; it is always of wood, and the principal rooms open immediately into it. Our verandas seem to be imitated from it, but its greater depth, and projecting roof, with deeply ornamented eaves, render it much superior in effect. The entrance into this palace, like that of other houses, is by a court, but externally, the walls rise immediately on the summit of a steep, rocky bank, below which are the gardens, and it thus commands a view of the plain and gulf of Corinth, and the situation is very good both for seeing and being seen; though the almost naked plain of Corinth does not form a very fine foreground. Underneath the gallery, in the court, is a range of arches, which in England you might call Saxon, supported on short, round pillars, which do not correspond with the posts of the gallery above. The walls of this gallery have been ornamentally painted, but the painting and ornaments are almost gone. Beyond the part now described is a range of offices, and beyond these the women’s apartments, which are of course invisible.
The interior of a Turkish room seems formed everywhere on the same model, and the one I have already described to you in our own lodging, though of the poorer sort, is on the same plan with the rest. The lower part is sometimes as large as the upper, sometimes much smaller. A little wooden shaft commonly runs up the sides from the step which separates the two levels, and something of the sort is frequently continued across the room, on the ceiling. The divân surrounds usually three sides of the upper part of the room; here the Turk or Greek reclines for the greatest part of the day, smoking his long pipe, or looking out of the windows, which extend as far as the divân itself; and here, I believe, he sleeps at night. All this part of the dwelling, among the richer Turks, is ornamented with painting and gilding, fancifully, and sometimes tastefully disposed, and the cushions and backs of the divân are covered with silk, and embroidered. The poorer content themselves with inferior materials and less decoration. Every visitor is presented with a pipe and a cup of coffee, and generally with sweetmeats. The porcelain coffee-cup is placed within a cup of metal, often richly ornamented, and it is a merit that the liquor should be very thick. All these little particulars strike the attention when we first meet with them, but they are nothing in words, because they have been so often described that the words are become familiar, though the customs are new.
The early antiquities of this place are so interesting, and the Christian ones of so little importance, that I find it requires a considerable effort to turn my attention at all towards them. The principal church is a gloomy building, divided by ranges of columns, and not distinctly exhibiting the form of the Greek cross. A little church dedicated to St. George, on the side towards mount Anchesmus, is more characteristic. The body of the building is nearly square, with a porch of the whole width opening by three arches. A Greek cross rises above the square, and the intersection is crowned with an octagonal lantern, having a shaft at each angle, supporting a curved rib, and a narrow semicircular-headed opening on each side. The dome is tiled and springs from the angles, so that, as in some churches I have noticed to you in the south of France, the upright faces of the sides of the octagon cut into it. The whole width of this edifice is but 27 feet, and another little church dedicated to the same saint, a little below the monument of Thrasyllus, is still smaller, the nave being but 7 feet wide, but it is very well constructed. These Greek churches, like the ancient temples, must have been for the priests, and not for the people.
LETTER XLIX.
NEIGHBOURHOOD OF ATHENS.
Athens, April, 1818.
One of the first objects in the neighbourhood of Athens is the Piræus, and we may still discover traces of the ancient road, and of the ruts made by the wheels in the solid rock; and some remains of the long walls. A convent and the custom-house now form the whole town; yet the port is a very good harbour. According to Captain M. it is capable of containing fifteen or twenty large ships, of the size of an English frigate, and a great number of smaller ones; and in addition to this, the road on the outside is so well sheltered by the island of Salamis, and the holding ground is so good, that it may be esteemed almost equal to a harbour.