15 January 2009
Byron under Glass
In the reading room of his library in Athens -- splendid columns, dark red portico -- where the books are under glass, a large exhibition cabinet holds Byron memorabilia under glass.
More Byron memorabilia is under glass in the National Historical Museum, in an exhibition space that looks remarkably like a chapel, centered as it is on a table surrounded by icons of Byron. That space holds, among other things, Byron's travelling trunk that unfolded to make a bed, his helmet, and three portraits: beautiful in adolescence, romantic as a poet, bloated in his maturity.
Byron is a national hero of Greece and every town has a street and a hotel named for him, something like you will find for Lord Alexander Fleming in Spain (think: bullfighting, gored bullfighters, infection, penicillin). Had Byron lived, they would have tried to make him king, but he died miserably of malaria and iatrogenic infection, soaked in sweat, his mouth saturated iwth bile.
So it is not completely unreasonable that Ioannis Gennadios -- or some other wealthy Greek interested in literature and history -- would have shown up on Wednesday, 18 August, 1880, at the Sotheby's auction of Byron memorabilia. This is what Gennadios bought for the coffin-case, according to the labels in it:
A matching set of a very small inlaid mahogany tea caddy and watch stand that belonged to Byron's half-sister Augusta Leigh.
A piece of deep blue silk exquisitely embroidered with flowers by Augusta Leigh.
A small black leather pocket folder and a small red leather-bound notebook, with her name and initials.
An Italian silk scarf of pale green and ivory with narrow deep red lines, given to Augusta by Byron.
A thick scrapbook of "portraits, pedigrees, biographical notes and autographs of Byron, and a small collection of mememtos inluding a lock of his hair."
A miniature portrait of Theresa Makri copied in 1834 by Bate from the 1812 Allason portrait.
A piece of a dreadful plaid of green, black, and whitem from one of Byron's jackets.
His rosewood holder for playing cards.
A cameo portrait of Byron.
His marvellous small gold and blue enamel pocket watch.
Four seals -- two shaped like hands; one ivory, one amethyst, one mother-of-pearl -- with various romantic mottos of the period.
Two examples of the Byron arms marked out on canvas for embroidering.
A homemade drawing case -- cardboard laced together with green ribbon, with a cover picture of plums and leaves and a worm pasted on -- with watercolors by Byron's daughter Ada and her friends, from 1826-27.
And finally, a heart-breakingly fragile, dried wreath of bay leaves and flowers sent by the people of Mesolonghi that was laid on Byron's coffin.
So it is difficult to know what to think about defining looting, but I know that if given the choice between free and full possession of either the Elgin Marbles or Byron's memorabilia, I would take Byron.
Here in this detail from a famous bad historical painting, a much too-young Byron is shown arriving at Mesolonghi, being welcomed by the beleagured defenders Notice how his travelling cloak has been disposed to give the impression of classical Greek dress.
01 January 2009
Along with the Bishop and Huntsmen . . .
Now I sit in Gennadios' library and it is a pleasing place, but Gennadios is unjust, and to use a word like 'looting' surely indicates nationalist assumptions rather than information about what Cyriaco himself recorded. Earlier notes here tried to indicate the richness of Cyriaco's personality.
This is what Cyriaco felt about taking things, recounting a visit to Cyzicus:
But alas! How unsightly a structure we returned to, compared to the one we inspected fourteen years ago! For then we saw thirty- one surviving columns standing erect, whereas now I find that [only] twenty-nine columns remain, some shorn of their architraves. . . . ruined and dashed to the ground, evidently by the barbarians.
He did something about it: he visited the Ottoman governor of the area, who was a Greek, and talked with him about the need to preserve such treasures. The governor promised to help.
Cyriaco loved antiquities, and everywhere he went, he copied inscriptions -- it is only because of him that we have information about hundreds of Greek inscriptions now missing, drew carvings and buildings -- the drawings here are of three grave markers and a statue of Dionysios he saw in Nauplion, now missing. His drawings of antiquities at Merbaka allow us to compare what he saw with what survives, though the large panel is missing -- might a cleric, or a Turk, have thought a carving of an undressed couple on a bed unsuitable for public viewing, even if they were accompanied by the family, the horse, and the snake?
I cannot find, rereading what survives of Cyriaco's diaries and letters, anything that might be considered looting, although he did buy a secular manuscript on Mount Athos. This is what he did in the libraries on Athos:
. . . we examined . . . we took pains to copy . . . he showed me numerous books . . . I purchased this splendid volume from him . . . I picked out a selection of books and noted down the incipits . . .That is the way he travelled, always finding local Greeks and resident Italians who cared about antiquities, and making notes:
- "we did take care to record here the most important inscriptions"
- "I investigated more closely"
- "we also observed"
- "guided by [the sailor] we first looked at the ancient walls"
- "we observed numerous sculptured dancing nymphs"
- [at Ainos] "these princes and distinguished men . . . expertly showed me all of the city's important sites"
- "I made sure to record here"
- "we saw . . a number of marble sarcophagi at the port that had been demolished and thrown together . . . to serve as a mole"
- "we viewed the ancient walls of the city"
Travelling in Imbros with the historian-to-be Michael Kritoboulos, the two of them composed an inscription and had it carved in Attic letters and set at the main gate of the new citadel that the governor had constructed out of older stones.
He made his notes and explored with joy. Read, finally, this description of his searches on Crete:
13 July 1445. . . . we settled down in the bishop's country house near Miscea, at the foot of White Mountain . . . we saw on the banks and reverenced another small, old church of the Blessed Virgin enclosed by trees laden with fruit. But, to see what we came to see . . . those famous mountain-cypress trees -- and to inspect certain antique remnants of towns that I had heard still exist . . . on the next day, Jove's lucky day, along with his excellency the bishop and accompanied by a number of rustics and huntsmen from the neighborhood, we climbed through rocky, steep hills to the White Mountains themselves. There we first inspected the towered, scattered walls of a certain very old town . . . There the bishop chose to linger, to study the walls, which were composed of huge stones, and to render to God due glory; whereas I, accompanied by a local, Basil, climbed to higher, wooded summits of the mountains, steep, unfamiliar trail, my feet clad in sandals of Hyrcanian hide; and, under the personal guidance of our wing-footed Mercury, we saw at last the object of our quest, numerous cypresses, tall, fragrant conifers menacing the sky with their foliage, ever green, the distinguished glory of the forests . . . But first I made sure to record here a fine, intact marble statue base that I found in a garden near the sea.
Church of Merbaka which Cyriaco visited.
Review of the best Cyriaco book yet, by E. Bodnar, S.J.