Of the two heroic figures in the centre, Athéné and Poseidon, whose contest is the subject of this western pediment, the only fragment now existing is the muscular, finely-developed back and chest of the sea-god; and of Athéné, the upper half of the face (the sockets of the eyes intentionally hollow, that they might be filled in with precious stones), also one of her feet, and the stem of the famous olive tree.
A careful model of the Parthenon in its present condition is placed in the Elgin Room, and by reference to that we can identify the fragments on the pediments, and can also see the position of the various sculptures. The sculptured figures on it are copied from drawings made from the Parthenon itself at Athens in 1674, by a French artist, Jacques Carey by name, before Lord Elgin had removed those which we now possess, and when many of the figures were far less damaged than they now are. The Parthenon had been used as a powder magazine by the Turks when they conquered the city in 1687. It was during the siege that a bomb from the enemy fell into the edifice, igniting the stored gunpowder, and the whole centre part of the ancient temple, with a part of its lovely frieze, was blown into the air. Again, a similar misfortune occurred in the Greek struggle for independence and freedom in 1827. Yet, in spite of the terrible gap, enough of the building is still left for us to admire the wonderful beauty of proportion, and simple, yet grand, lines of the outline; and more than enough to recognise the general plan and places of most of the sculptures that adorned its walls.
The Metopes.—These are panels in alto, or high-relief, in the frieze which ran above the colonnade of the Parthenon. They pourtray the struggle between the youth of Athens and the centaurs—monstrous creatures, half horse, half man. This struggle is supposed to have been intended to typify the contest between intelligence and moral order on the one hand, against the power of lawlessness and brute force, as represented by the monsters, on the other—a contest, the result of which was in that day acutely realised.
There were originally ninety-two of these Metopes, fourteen on each end, and thirty-two along each side wall. We possess seventeen out of the ninety-two. So many having been destroyed, it is impossible to judge with any greater certainty of the subject.
The Statue.—My account would be incomplete did I not add a few words descriptive of the beautiful statue of Athéné that originally stood within the temple, facing the east. For, although all trace of the statue itself has long vanished, we know its form by copies in marble in several of the museums and galleries in Europe. The one at Naples is considered the best. We have also, in the Elgin Room, two small rough copies of it.
The grand original, which Pausanias saw and describes as “perfect,” “a thing to wonder at,” was of gold and ivory. Its robes were of gold, its flesh was of delicately cream-coloured ivory, its eyes flashed with precious stones.
“Lovely, serene, and grand,” its gigantic form filled the centre of the temple, and the golden griffins on its helmet reared themselves against the very roof.
This statue, with that of the Olympian Jove, was undoubtedly the exclusive work of the master, Pheidias, who, though he may have allowed his pupils to assist him in some of the labours of the other figures of the Parthenon, assuredly hoped that his fame would be secured by these works. Their fame now, alas! rests solely upon copies and description. I give a sketch of the best of the two small rough copies in the Elgin Room. Like the grand original, she holds the figure of Victory in her extended right hand, and grasps the spear in the left, while her shield, together with the snake (type of the native soil of Athens) lie at her feet.
The art of presenting figures in gold and ivory, for which Pheidias is peculiarly famous, is a lost art. A special name was given to these statues. They were called Chrys-elephantine.[2] The combined richness of the gold with the soft hue of the ivory must have produced a wonderfully fine and mysterious effect when seen in the recesses of a dimly-illumined temple. The golden robes of the goddess were considered as part of the State treasury, and were between the times of the great festivals unfixed from the statue, and stored in the treasure house at the back part of the temple. They were from time to time carefully weighed, and were looked upon in the light of national wealth, which might, in time of need, be drawn upon for the country’s requirement. The gold of the robes was said to have been worth as much as £100,000. It is supposed that this part of the goddess was melted down, and finally reduced to Byzantine coin about the time of the Roman Emperor Julian—viz., about A.D. 360.
As Athens sunk from her high position among the Greek States, her processions and ceremonies fell into decay; but while she flourished, none were more brilliant.