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
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.