The ancient writers often mention and praise the Assyrian tissues for the art employed in their manufacture; for the splendour and harmony of their colours, and the richness of the fanciful compositions with which they were embroidered. The mystical figures of bucentaurs, lions, dragons, unicorns, and other monsters, which the authors describe, are absolutely identical with those which we see on the bas-reliefs of Nimroud and Khorsabad. But this identity was not in the subjects alone. There is no doubt that the manner of treatment, the style of these subjects, was identical with that of the objects embroidered on the tissues, which ancient authors have described.
On examining somewhat attentively the Assyrian sculptures, it is easy to satisfy oneself that the art of the Assyrian sculptor moved within limits traceable from its origin, viz., embroidered work, allowance being made for certain alterations of style, caused by the requirements of a new material.
One perceives in these Assyrian sculptures, the desire on the artist’s part of an attention to the truth of Nature, but that he has been hindered in his task, not—as with the Egyptians—by a regular hieroglyphic system and hieratical laws, but rather by the caprices of a method difficult, and indeed foreign to sculpture, the influence of which was still strongly felt. Thus the sculpture of this people kept itself within the bounds of a very low and flat relief, exactly similar to that of some productions of Chinese woven work, seen in the Great Exhibition of 1851, which possessed peculiar interest in the history of Art, inasmuch as they exhibited the transition of the high woof into polychromic bas-relief.
The Assyrian figures, without being embalmed mummies like those of Egypt, show, nevertheless, much stiffness and irregularity; they appear as it were imprisoned and confined within an invisible canvas. Their contours are, so to speak, tacked in with threads. One recognises in them an awkwardness and hardness arising from the contest of the artist with a material foreign to the style: whilst the Egyptian bas-reliefs evince an original, canonical, and voluntary stiffness. I am tempted to believe that all those slabs of alabaster from Assyria, with their religious, warlike, and domestic scenes, are nothing more than exact copies in stone, after originals in tissues, at that time celebrated and executed by good native artists, who worked on that material only, whilst they employed mere workmen to transfer the originals on to stone, as well as the material would allow, which explains the difference between the design and execution which these works betray. This same character is also found on the Assyrian paintings.
It is not to be doubted that the true tapestries were employed with profusion, side by side with the stereotyped copies: and probably these last were often covered with the originals, on the occasion of solemn ceremonies, &c., and that they were only exposed during the intervals between the fêtes, &c. We observe the same thing at this day in the Catholic churches, where this ancient custom, with many others, is strictly preserved. The inscriptions and their application in bands, indicate the same origin. Does it not appear as if the cuneiform characters were invented and designed for execution in needlework? In fine, the simplicity of the system of paving of the rooms, otherwise so richly ornamented, goes to prove that they were originally covered with tapestry. It is only the slabs which form the cills of the doors on which tapestry could not be placed, which indeed form an exception, being ornamented with engraved work, in imitation of tapestry. (See Layard.) It is thus that these last became also the types of parquetry work in mosaic.
Up to the present point, we have only considered what relates to the representations found on the Assyrian slabs. But these, in themselves, give us still more cause for reflection, and singularly justify our assertion of the importance, in an architectural point of view, of the coverings of walls.
The principle of panelling constructed work shows itself here in all its primitive simplicity. We know that almost all the lower portions of walls, within and without, were covered with thin slabs of alabaster or basalt. The same principle under another form, obtained in the upper portions of the walls; here, the walls of unbaked brick were inlaid with glazed bricks; but the plan pursued by the Assyrians in executing this incrustation differs greatly from that which we observe elsewhere, and from what we pursue at the present day.
The Assyrian bricks are only glazed on the external side, and the ornaments and other subjects which were figured on them in the glazing, bear no relation to the construction, so that the ornamental lines cross the joints of the bricks irregularly.
The enamel is very fusible and the bricks but slightly burnt, evidently with the sole intention of fixing the glazing on them, which induces me to conjecture, that the use of glazed pottery preceded and prepared the way for that of baked bricks, and that the art of pottery was already far advanced before the introduction of burnt brick work. Other indications which would take too long to specify here, have proved to me, that the bricks received their coating placed in a horizontal position: First, they were ranged in the order which they would take when in their place, they then traced the design formed on this arrangement of unburnt bricks; next, they covered with these painted bricks—observing still the same order—the interior of the room; and lastly, they placed a fire in the room to fix the varnish which covered the walls.[[8]]
[8]. The same method is to be found in some old buildings in Scotland.