Thomas Bruce … The not so honourable Earl of Elgin

In December of 1798, Thomas Bruce, the seventh Earl of Elgin, became the newly appointed “Ambassador Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary of His Britannic Majesty to the Sublime Porte of Selim III, Sultan of Turkey”, with whom England had recently forged an alliance against the French. Even before taking up his post, Bruce had approached several officials of the British Government to inquire if they were interested in employing artists to take drawings and casts of the Parthenon sculptures, claiming that he wanted to make his embassy “beneficial to the progress of the Fine Arts in Great Britain”.

This seemingly noble gesture on Bruce’s behalf was in reality motivated by his desire to decorate his newly built mansion in Scotland with “the finest examples of Grecian Art”. When the British Government cordially declined his request, Bruce decided to carry out the work at his own expense and employed several artists, under the supervision of the Italian Giovani Lusieri, to take drawings and casts of the sculptures.

In 1800 the Turkish Sultan granted Bruce a firman or license allowing his artists to make sketches of the Parthenon’s sculptures, but expressly forbade the taking of casts or the erection of scaffolding on or near the ancient temple. The Sultan, of course, was not particularly concerned for the Parthenon’s safety, nor did he fear offending his already restless Greek subjects for whom the monument had special meaning. His decision was instead dictated solely by the fact that a mosque had been built within the confines of the now hollow temple, coupled by his deeply rooted distrust of all western ‘infidels’.

A few short months later Thomas Harrison, Bruce’s resident architect in Athens, sensing that a Greek uprising was inevitable, wrote an anxious letter to his employer urging him to act quickly: “The opportunity of the present good understanding between us and the Porte should not be lost,” stressed Harrison, “as it appears very uncertain, from the fluctuating state of Europe, how long this part of Greece may remain under its present master - Greece may be called maiden Ground.” Bruce obliged and, using his position of power as British ambassador, managed to renegotiate the conditions of his firman. By the beginning of 1801 he had secured permission from the Sultan not only to make casts of the sculptures, but also to excavate and carry away “blocks of stone having inscriptions or figures upon them.”

The looting of the Parthenon began immediately. Bruce’s workmen stripped the great temple of over 60% of its surviving sculptures within months and, in December of that same year, the spoils were crated and shipped to England. The haul included one Doric capital, some fourteen figures from the East and West pediments, fifteen metopes from the temple’s south flank and fifty-six of the surviving ninety-seven blocks of the Panathenaic frieze. By 1806, various architectural members and sculptures from the Propylaia, the Erechtheion and the temple of Nike had also been removed from the Sacred Rock, as well as numerous inscriptions, gravestones and many other priceless artefacts.

A startling account of the reckless manner with which Bruce’s workmen stripped the Parthenon of its precious sculptures is given by one Edward Daniel Clarke in his book Travel to European Countries published in 1811. Clarke, who witnessed the removal of the South Metopes, says that part of the Pentelic marble collapsed under the weight of the cranes in the attempt to dislodge one of the sculptured panels, which fell to the ground and was smashed to bits. Even the Turkish commander, Clarke notes, wept at this unfortunate incident. Clarke then goes on to complain that many other sculptures were similarly hacked from the temple with no regard given to its structural integrity and that the vast majority of these were subsequently cut into smaller blocks for easier transportation.

To make matters worse, one of the British barges carrying the sculptures was caught in a violent storm and sank near the island of Kythera. Though the sculptures were eventually retrieved, the costly salvage operation lasted two years! To add insult to injury, when the first sixty-five crates finally arrived in London in 1804, their final destination was a damp coal shed on the grounds of Bruce's Park Lane house, where they remained until they were eventually moved to the Duke of Devonshire’s Burlington House in 1808.

Bruce’s voracious appetite for Greek antiquities was, unfortunately, not confined only to the Acropolis, but extended to many other areas of Greece, including the great temple of Apollo at Phigalea and the treasury of Atreus at Mycenae. By 1817, the last of Bruce’s plundered booty had been loaded onto British warships. In total, some 253 cases of irreplaceable antiquities were pilfered by Bruce and dispatched to England. Four short years later, the Greek War of Independence broke out and all looting of the country’s cultural heritage was finally stopped.

THE SALE OF THE CENTURY

In 1811 Bruce tried to sell his ill-gotten booty to the British Museum, but the British Government showed little interest. Ultimately, Bruce’s asking price of £74,000 was deemed too great for what were considered to be poorly preserved sculptures. The intervening years, however, saw a growing interest in classical Greek art and in June of 1816, a series of Parliamentary hearings were conducted by the House of Commons to determine the fate of the stolen artworks. 

During the course of these hearings, the British MP Sir John Newport objected that the “Honourable Lord has taken advantage of the most unjustifiable means and has committed the most flagrant pillages ...” adding that Bruce “looted what Turks and other barbarians considered sacred.” The speaker of Parliament duly announced that “Lord Elgin's petition has been filed. His ownership rights on the collection have been contested; his conduct has also been censured.”

Bruce’s primary defence was that the Ottomans had given him written permission to remove the sculptures and that his motives were driven solely by the desire to save these great works of art from further damage. When he was asked to produce the documents, however, Bruce admitted that he had “retained none of them.” The chief witness called to substantiate Bruce’s claims was a certain Dr Hunt, who had “accompanied Lord Elgin as chaplain to the [[British]] embassy”. Dr Hunt, we are told, submitted an Italian translation of the “fermaun” to the Committee of the British Museum based solely upon “his recollection” given that “he had it not with him in London” at the time.

According to Dr Hunt, the “substance” of the “fermaun” which the Turks granted “the Ambassador of Great Britain … with whom they were now and had long been in the strictest alliance” gave Bruce “and the Artists employed by him, the most extensive permission to view, draw, and model, the ancient Temples of the Idols, and the sculptures upon them, and to make excavations, and to take away any stones that might appear interesting to them.” He added “that no remonstrance was at any time made, nor any displeasure shown, by the Turkish government, either at Constantinople or at Athens, against the extensive interpretation which was put upon this fermaun.”

The Committee of the British Museum were also careful to stress that: “Among the Greek population and inhabitants of Athens it occasioned no sort of dissatisfaction: but, as Mr. Hamilton, an eye-witness, expresses it, so far from exciting any unpleasant sensation, the people seemed to feel it as the means of bringing foreigners into their country, and of having money spent among them. The Turks showed a total indifference and apathy as to the preservation of these remains, except when in a fit of wanton destruction they sometimes carried their disregard so far as to do mischief by firing at them. The numerous travellers and admirers of the Arts committed greater waste, from a very different motive; for many of those who visited the Acropolis tempted the soldiers, and other people about the fortress, to bring them down heads, legs, or arms, or whatever other pieces they could carry off.” Naturally, this did not apply to Bruce!!!

Elsewhere the Committee also pointed out “that the only other piece of Sculpture which was ever removed from its place for the purpose of export was taken by Mr. Choiseul Gouffier, when he was Ambassador from France to the Porte; but whether he had it by express permission, or in some less ostensible way, no means of ascertaining are within the reach of the Committee. It was undoubtedly at various times an object with the French Government to obtain possession of some of these valuable remains; and it is probable … that at no great distance in time they might have been removed by that government from the original site, if they had not been taken away, and secured for this country, by Lord Elgin.”

The House of Commons, as was expected, exonerated Bruce and offered him £35,000 for the looted artwork … which Bruce promptly accepted. The deal closed, the sculptures were taken immediately to the British Museum where they have remained ever since.

 

CONTEMPORARY REACTIONS

The ‘Advertisement’ prefacing The Report from the Select Committee to the House of Commons, Respecting the Earl of Elgin’s Collection of Sculptured Marbles, published in 1816 states: “The highest praise and sincerest thanks are due from an enlightened Public to Lord Elgin, for stepping forward at the critical time, and rescuing these precious remains of ancient art from the destroying hand of time, and from the more destroying hand of an uncivilized people.”

Despite this high rhetoric, many prominent British figures considered the looting of the Parthenon nothing less than an act of sacrilege. Lord Byron was among the first to denounce Bruce as “a dishonest and rapacious vandal”, though officials of the British Museum dismissed the poet’s derision as sentimental tripe that was devoid of any substance.

The Reverend Thomas Smart Hughes, who had visited the Acropolis soon after Bruce’s pitiless onslaught, could not believe his sorry eyes: “Tympana capitals, entablature and crown,” he writes, “all were lying in huge heaps that could give material for the erection of an entire marble palace.” The great English traveller and painter Edward Dodwell also publicly expressed his “humiliation” at being present at the looting of these great sculptures and argued that the Arts in Britain would equally have benefited from casts of the originals.

Edward Clarke, whom we met earlier, pointed out that if Bruce really had the interest of the sculptures at heart, he could have simply exerted pressure on the Turks to take adequate measures for their protection. Clarke himself was nonetheless able to build up a fine collection of ancient coins and Byzantine manuscripts during his Greek tour in 1801-2, and also to secure the colossal statue of Ceres from Eleusis, today in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge.

By and large, however, the removal of the Parthenon marbles was completely warranted and justifiable in the eyes of the British intelligentsia. In 1809, the renowned English painter Benjamin Haydon expressed both his admiration for the sculptures and his gratitude to Bruce for rescuing them from the barbarian Ottomans. “Thank God! The remains of Athens have flown for protection to England”, exclaims Haydon, “the genius of Greece still hovers near them; may she with her inspiring touch, give new vigour to British Art, and cause new beauties to spring from British exertions! May their essence mingle with our blood and circulate through our being.”

Haydon’s comment is not uncharacteristic. The Elgin marbles, as these most celebrated examples of classical Greek art came to be known, were called in to validate not just a cultural affinity between the classical Greeks and the modern Britons, but also a physical and racial one! That this is not overstating the case is borne out by the so-called ‘physiognomic studies’ of Robert Knox, which categorically proved that the ancient Greeks were not only of “Scandinavian or Saxon origin”, but that the “classical racial type” was “not to be found in Greece but on the streets of London.” Not surprisingly, the display of the Parthenon Marbles in the British Museum became “an instant success” among the general English public.

The Greeks, as was quite natural, began demanding the return of the Parthenon marbles ever since Bruce sold them to the British Museum, claiming that they were illegally taken from their homeland when it was under foreign domination. In 1833, the Committee of the British Museum formally expressed their regret “that these sculptures should have been taken from the spot where they had remained for so many ages; that the most celebrated temple of Greece should have been stripped of its noblest ornaments.” They further admitted that “the method of obtaining these antiquities was … dishonest and flagitious.” And that, insofar as the British Museum was concerned, was the end of the matter!

 

WHITE IS RIGHT

In 1838, one Michael Faraday was hired to remedy the problem of the deteriorating surface of the marbles which had suffered from nineteenth century pollution. In a letter sent to Henry Milman, a commissioner for the National Gallery, Faraday writes: “The marbles generally were very dirty ... from a deposit of dust and soot. ... I found the body of the marble beneath the surface white. ... The application of water, applied by a sponge or soft cloth, removed the coarsest dirt. ... The use of fine, gritty powder, with the water and rubbing, though it more quickly removed the upper dirt, left much imbedded in the cellular surface of the marble. I then applied alkalis, both carbonated and caustic; these quickened the loosening of the surface dirt ... but they fell far short of restoring the marble surface to its proper hue and state of cleanliness. I finally used dilute nitric acid, and even this failed. ... The examination has made me despair of the possibility of presenting the marbles in the British Museum in that state of purity and whiteness which they originally possessed.”

In 1857 a second attempt was made to clean the marbles by a Richard Westmacott. The following year, Westmacott wrote to the British Museum’s Standing Committee: “I think it my duty to say that some of the works are much damaged by ignorant or careless moulding - with oil and lard - and by restorations in wax, and wax and resin. These mistakes have caused discolouration. I shall endeavour to remedy this without, however, having recourse to any composition that can injure the surface of the marble.”

A third attempt to clean the marbles was made in the years 1937-38, this time occasioned by the building of the Duveen Gallery which was to house the collection. Lord Duveen, the sponsor of the gallery, instructed his team of masons working in the project to remove the ‘discolouration’ of the marble sculptures to suit his perception of classical sculptures as being gleaming white. The cleaning, which had not been authorized by the British Museum, was carried out with copper chisels, metal brushes and strong chemicals. The cleaning process was so thorough that it scraped away as much as 2.5mm of the finer surface details of many of the sculptures. When the matter was discovered by the museum, an unsuccessful attempt was made to cover it up, but the story was leaked to the British press causing a minor scandal. The British Museum’s response to these allegations was that "mistakes were made at that time."

The removal of the patina of age that confirmed the sculptures authenticity was not simply a case of the application of an inappropriate ‘cleaning’ technique to some of the most valued works of classical Greek art. It goes much deeper than that. It represents, to all intents and purposes, a skinning of the marbles to suit the racist propaganda of British colonialism ... White is Right!!! 

 

BEWARE OF GREEKS BUILDING MUSEUMS

It is worth noting that in today’s parlance the practice of plundering artefacts from their original setting is often referred to as ‘elginism’, while the claim made by looters and collectors, that they are in fact rescuing the artefacts they recover, is called the ‘Elgin Excuse’. As the English journalist Christopher Hitchens recently reminded his fellow countrymen: “Even people who claim that Lord Elgin rescued the Marbles from a worse fate - an argument which does have some truth to it - are dimly aware that by saving the property of a neighbour you do not become the sole owner of that property.”

Insofar as the Greeks are concerned, the country’s archaeological monuments have always been a symbol of their racial and cultural identity and the Acropolis is held to be the most sacred of all. It is therefore understandable that the Greeks, who see the Parthenon sculptures as a vital part of this sacred heritage, have been demanding the return of the marbles ever since their removal. In the early 1980s the case for restitution was given added momentum by the country's charismatic Minister of Culture, Melina Mercouri, and has since been at the top of every Greek Government’s agenda.

The Greeks have not only challenged the legality of the British Museum’s ownership but further argue that the presentation of all the surviving sculptures in their original historical and cultural environment is vital for their “fuller understanding and interpretation”. In 1989 the Greek Minister for Culture, Eleutherios Venizelos made the following statement: “The request for the restitution of the Parthenon Marbles by the Hellenic Government is not submitted in the name of the Hellenic Nation or Hellenic History. It is submitted in the name of World Cultural Heritage and with the voice of the mutilated monument itself which demands the return of its Marbles.” These claims are, of course, not directed to the British Museum only, but to all the other European museums that possess parts of the Parthenon sculptures.

In a brilliant tactical maneuver, the Greek Government countered the often quoted argument by the British Museum which stated that Greece lacked a suitable facility to exhibit the sculptures, by building the new Acropolis Museum just south of the Sacred Rock. The $178 million museum is not only equipped with state-of-the-art technology for the protection and preservation of its 4,000 plus exhibits, but was specifically designed by the Swiss architect Bernard Tschumi and Greece's Michalis Photiadis to house the Parthenon sculptures. Built above the preserved and accessible ruins of an ancient Athenian neighbourhood and with a spectacular view of the Acropolis, the sculptures and other artefacts left behind by Bruce are displayed in much the same way they would have appeared on the Parthenon itself, bathed in the natural sunlight of Attica.

The British Museum, not surprisingly, stubbornly refuses to return the Parthenon sculptures to Greece, claiming that it is the custodian of the world’s cultural heritage. The question begs itself: who entrusted the British Museum with this grandiose role? Certainly not the peoples whose cultural heritage was plundered by so-called ‘enlighteners’. The fact is that the return of the Parthenon marbles would set a precedent for the return of countless other stolen antiquities to their original homelands and this would literally spell the end of the so-called great museums of both Europe and America! As one commentator noted, the sun may have set on the British Empire, but old habits die hard…

Help reunite the Parthenon Marbles … visit http://www.bringthemback.org/ and participate!

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Author: Ioannis Georgopoulos | Source: Ancient Emporium [First published January 05. 2010]

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