The Seven Wonders: A Novel of the Ancient World (Novels of Ancient Rome) by Steven Saylor Read Free Book Online
Authors: Steven Saylor
to you, Gordianus? Think of the Roman goddess Vesta, and how vital it is for the well-being of Rome that the Vestals maintain their virginity. So it is with Ephesian Artemis. Chastity is absolutely essential for those who serve her, and not just her priests, or the women who work in the temple, called hierodules. All the girls who dance in the procession today must be virgins. Indeed, no freeborn female who is not a virgin may so much as step foot inside the Temple of Artemis, upon pain of death.”
We followed the procession out of the square and down a broad, paved street called the Sacred Way, lit all along its length with torches. After we passed though a broad gate in the city’s northern wall, these torches were set farther apart and in the intervening patches of deep shadow I could see the starry sky above our heads.
The Sacred Way took us gradually downhill. In the valley ahead, at the end of the winding line of torches, I saw our destination—the great Temple of Artemis. A huge crowd of pilgrims, many carrying torches, had already gathered at the temple to welcome the procession. The structure had the unearthly appearance of a vast, rectangular forest of glowing columns afloat in a pool of light. Though it was still almost a mile away, the temple already looked enormous. Antipater had told me it was the largest temple ever built by the Greeks, four times the size of the famous Parthenon atop the Acropolis in Athens.
The temple loomed larger with each step I took. I was astonished by the perfect beauty of the place. Gleaming marble steps led up to the broad porch. The massive walls of the sanctuary were surrounded by a double row of columns at least sixty feet high. White marble predominated, but many of the sculptural details had been highlighted with red, blue, or yellow paint, as well as touches of gleaming gold.
Even to my untrained and untraveled eye, the elegance of the columns was breathtaking. The bases were decorated with elaborate carvings, and each of the capitals ended in a graceful spiral curve to either side.
“It was here that the order of columns called Ionic originated,” said Antipater, following my gaze. “The architects deliberately imbued the columns with feminine attributes. Thus you see that the stacked marble drums ascend not to a plain, unadorned capital, but to those elegant whorls on either side, which mimic a woman’s curls. The whole length of each column is fluted with shallow channels, in imitation of the pleats of a woman’s gown. The proportion of the height to the circumference and the way each column gently tapers is also meant to give them a feminine delicacy.”
My eyes followed the columns to the pediment high above the porch, where I saw something I was not used to seeing in a temple—a tall, open window with an elaborate frame around it. I assumed it was there to admit light in the daytime, but as I was about to discover, this window had a far more important purpose.
In front of the temple, some distance from the steps, a low wall enclosed an elegantly carved altar for sacrificing animals. As the procession arrived before the temple, some of the yellow-robed Megabyzoi broke away from the larger contingent and took up places at this altar, producing ceremonial daggers, ropes for holding down the animals, butchering knives and axes, and other implements for the sacrifices. Other Megabyzoi stoked the pyres upon which the carved and spitted meat would be roasted. Others unloaded the statue of Artemis from the cart, carried her up the steps and into the temple. Yet another group of priests unyoked the garlanded bulls that had pulled the cart and led them toward the altar. A great many other animals, including sheep, goats, and oxen, were already being held in pens in the enclosure. They were to be sacrificed and roasted in the course of the evening, to satiate the appetite of the vast crowd.
The first of the bulls was led up a short ramp onto the altar, pushed to its
We followed the procession out of the square and down a broad, paved street called the Sacred Way, lit all along its length with torches. After we passed though a broad gate in the city’s northern wall, these torches were set farther apart and in the intervening patches of deep shadow I could see the starry sky above our heads.
The Sacred Way took us gradually downhill. In the valley ahead, at the end of the winding line of torches, I saw our destination—the great Temple of Artemis. A huge crowd of pilgrims, many carrying torches, had already gathered at the temple to welcome the procession. The structure had the unearthly appearance of a vast, rectangular forest of glowing columns afloat in a pool of light. Though it was still almost a mile away, the temple already looked enormous. Antipater had told me it was the largest temple ever built by the Greeks, four times the size of the famous Parthenon atop the Acropolis in Athens.
The temple loomed larger with each step I took. I was astonished by the perfect beauty of the place. Gleaming marble steps led up to the broad porch. The massive walls of the sanctuary were surrounded by a double row of columns at least sixty feet high. White marble predominated, but many of the sculptural details had been highlighted with red, blue, or yellow paint, as well as touches of gleaming gold.
Even to my untrained and untraveled eye, the elegance of the columns was breathtaking. The bases were decorated with elaborate carvings, and each of the capitals ended in a graceful spiral curve to either side.
“It was here that the order of columns called Ionic originated,” said Antipater, following my gaze. “The architects deliberately imbued the columns with feminine attributes. Thus you see that the stacked marble drums ascend not to a plain, unadorned capital, but to those elegant whorls on either side, which mimic a woman’s curls. The whole length of each column is fluted with shallow channels, in imitation of the pleats of a woman’s gown. The proportion of the height to the circumference and the way each column gently tapers is also meant to give them a feminine delicacy.”
My eyes followed the columns to the pediment high above the porch, where I saw something I was not used to seeing in a temple—a tall, open window with an elaborate frame around it. I assumed it was there to admit light in the daytime, but as I was about to discover, this window had a far more important purpose.
In front of the temple, some distance from the steps, a low wall enclosed an elegantly carved altar for sacrificing animals. As the procession arrived before the temple, some of the yellow-robed Megabyzoi broke away from the larger contingent and took up places at this altar, producing ceremonial daggers, ropes for holding down the animals, butchering knives and axes, and other implements for the sacrifices. Other Megabyzoi stoked the pyres upon which the carved and spitted meat would be roasted. Others unloaded the statue of Artemis from the cart, carried her up the steps and into the temple. Yet another group of priests unyoked the garlanded bulls that had pulled the cart and led them toward the altar. A great many other animals, including sheep, goats, and oxen, were already being held in pens in the enclosure. They were to be sacrificed and roasted in the course of the evening, to satiate the appetite of the vast crowd.
The first of the bulls was led up a short ramp onto the altar, pushed to its