They were celebrated for their music and gymnastic exercises; and their art formed a link between that of Asia Minor and that of Greece. A marble lion at Achmetly represents in a modified form the Assyrian type, and the engraved gems found in the neighbourhood of Sardis and Old Smyrna resemble the rude imitations of Assyrian workmanship met with in Cyprus and on the coasts of Asia Minor. For a description of a pectoral of white gold, ornamented with the heads of animals, human faces, and the figure of a goddess, discovered in a tomb on Tmolus, see Academy, January 15, 1881, p. 45. Lydian sculpture was probably similar to that of the Phrygians as displayed at Doghanlu, Kumbet, and Ayazin, a necropolis lately discovered by Mr. Ramsay. Phallic emblems, for averting evil, were plentiful; even the summit of the tomb of Alyattes is crowned with an enormous one of stone, about 9 feet in diameter. The tumulus itself is 281 yards in diameter and about half a mile in circumference. It has been partially excavated by Spiegelthal and Dennis, and a sepulchral chamber discovered in the middle, composed of large, well-cut, and highly polished blocks of marble, the chamber being 11 feet long, nearly 8 feet broad, and 7 feet high. Nothing was found in it except a few ashes and a broken vase of Egyptian alabaster. The stone basement which, according to Herodotus, formerly surrounded the mound, has now disappeared.[d]
Of the glories of Lydian civilisation it would be well to have a portrayal. None could be more vivid than Radet’s glowing revivification of the probable splendours of such a scene.
A PICTURE OF LIFE IN LYDIA
One would like to know more of Sardis, that glorious capital of the Lydian state, that strange city which was the advance guard of Hellenism towards the interior, and at the same time the last stage of the Semitic world towards the west: it is not impossible to imagine it. Of complex physiognomy, it reflected the very character of the population who dwelt there. It was a city of contrasts. The traveller coming over the Leuco-Syrian route was informed of the strange sights awaiting him by the monuments of every style along the road. There were colossal figures graven in the rock, figures of strange gods, processions of priests with pointed tiaras, and soldiers with boots turned up at the toe, while lion and bull fights spread along the skirts of the mountain. Occasionally hieroglyphics accompanied these rock-hewn bas-reliefs, witnessing to their Pterian origin; again, the alphabet of the inscriptions showed they were the work of Phrygian sculptors. In places were enormous conical mounds, tombs in the Thracian style, high as little hills, uniformly surmounted by a phallus. The most recent of these funeral mounds were ornamented with friezes. These, showing hunting scenes, files of warriors, groups of animals, all bore the mark of oriental inspiration but in style revealed Greek handiwork. It was like being in a land of transition where the most diverse influences crossed and mingled.
Whether coming from the direction of Sipylus or issuing from the Catacecaumenian gorges, what struck one first on reaching the vast mountain amphitheatre, in the centre of which Sardis rises, was the imposing mass. The official and military town, the fortress, the acropolis with its broken outline, its abrupt façade rising above the plain in the fashion of a promontory, the vast circle of ramparts; then, beyond the walls, above the battlements, temples, as for instance that of Apollo, grand public buildings, as the royal treasury—a confused mass of roofs, pediments, and towers, standing in bold relief against the background of the Tmolus, whose heights receded far beyond, sombre and confused, in a striking disorder of peaks, ravines, and woods.
The impression of majesty which the capital of Asia Minor gave from the distance, the idea it suggested of a centre of splendour and opulence, vanished as one drew nearer. In the suburbs, on coming out of the immense flat plain which surrounds them, the picture ceased to be majestic and became picturesque, gaining by wildness what it lost in magnificence. The city, on this side, with its gardens, meadows, fields, clusters of trees, thatched huts trellised with roses, had an air of wild forest land. It retained something of the Homeric Hyde, the wild and green land whose sombre oak groves were often ravaged by lightning. It was the quarter of the poor. Straw huts, rough plank cottages, homesteads half in ruins, smothered in high grass or hidden by trees, sheltered a whole population of workmen, mule proprietors or drivers, caravan conductors, miserable horse breeders.
Higher up, on the semicircular terraces seen at the foot of the acropolis, appeared the commercial part, with bazaars, shops, markets, caravanseries, and baths. The extreme west was marked by the agora which spread along the two banks of the Pactolus round the temple of Cybele. Probably more to the east, facing the plain stood the palace of Crœsus, its solid brick walls rising above the confused mass of badly built small houses.
This part of the town was always extremely lively. Carefully driven chariots spun with surprising swiftness along the narrow and tortuous streets. The horses, short, strong, well built, collarless and quick footed, easily carried men or loads. Here and there a convoy of merchandise disappeared into a caravansery. Through the open door could be seen an immense court, a group of plane trees shading a well, and rows of cells with doors opening out under a wooden gallery.
In the bazaar were tiny shops, long and narrow, built one against the other like cells in a hive. Here were sold all the products of the East. The different trades were assembled in groups. Here was the leather market, with every invention in red, blue, yellow, stitched, spangled, and embroidered leather to be found at an Asiatic leather-seller’s; bright-coloured purses, laced sandals, peaked shoes, dyed and embroidered straps, sheaths and lashes, all giving out agreeable odours in the heavy air. In another place was the weavers’ quarter, where were purple stuffs, luxurious hangings, trappings of soft tints, and carpets of striking colours. Farther on, glittered the goldsmiths’ wares; marvels of Assyrian jewelry, necklaces, bangles, rings, whole sets in electrum and silver, and ivory playthings. One of the most curious corners was the perfumery section. There were piled up drugs without number, powders exposed in sacks or heaps, coffers and cases full of pastiles, sachets, smelling salts; essences coloured the flasks; there were pots containing pomades or unguents. Many of these balms and aromatics had saffron as a base. It was with saffron that the most celebrated Lydian composition, baccaris, was made, whose odour, heady and bewildering, was felt above all those that filled the atmosphere.