Chapter III: The Heroic Age (2)

The fleet at length had a prosperous voyage. It consisted of about twelve hundred open vessels, each carrying from fifty to a hundred and twenty men. The number of men in the whole armament, computed from the mean of those two numbers mentioned by Homer as the complement of different ships, would be something more than a hundred thousand; and Thucydides, whose opinion is of the highest authority, has reckoned this within the bounds of probability; though a poet, he adds, would go to the utmost of current reports. The army, landing on the Trojan coast, was immediately so superior to the enemy as to oblige them to seek shelter within the city walls: but here the operations were at a stand. The hazards to which unfortified and solitary dwellings were exposed from pirates and freebooters had driven the more peaceable of mankind to assemble in towns for mutual security. To erect lofty walls around those towns for defence was then an obvious resource, requiring little more than labour for the execution. More thought, more art, more experience were necessary for forcing the rudest fortification, if defended with vigilance and courage. But the Trojan walls were singularly strong: Agamemnon’s army could make no impression upon them. He was therefore reduced to the method most common for ages after, of turning the siege into a blockade, and patiently waiting till want of necessaries should force the enemy to quit their shelter. But neither did the policy of the times amount by many degrees to the art of subsisting so numerous an army for any length of time, nor would the revenues of Greece have been equal to it with more knowledge, nor indeed would the state of things have admitted it, scarcely with any wealth, or by any means. For in countries without commerce, the people providing for their own wants only, supplies cannot be found equal to the maintenance of a superadded army. No sooner therefore did the Trojans shut themselves within their walls than the Greeks were obliged to give their principal attention to the means of subsisting their numerous forces. The common method of the times was to ravage the adjacent countries; and this was immediately put in practice. But such a resource soon destroys itself. To have therefore a more permanent and certain supply, a part of their army was sent to cultivate the vales of the Thracian Chersonesus, then abandoned by the inhabitants on account of the frequent and destructive incursions of the wild people who occupied the interior of that continent.

Large bodies being thus detached from the army, the remainder scarcely sufficed to deter the Trojans from taking the field again, and could not prevent succour and supplies from being carried into the town. Thus the siege was protracted to the enormous length of ten years. It was probably their success in marauding marches and pirating voyages that induced the Greeks to persevere so long. Achilles is said to have plundered no less than twelve maritime and eleven inland towns. Lesbos, then under the dominion of the monarch of Troy, was among his conquests; and the women of that island were apportioned to the victorious army as a part of the booty. But these circumstances alarming all neighbouring people contributed to procure numerous and powerful allies to the Trojans. Not only the Asiatic states, to a great extent eastward and southward, sent auxiliary troops, but also the European, westward, as far as the Pæonians of that country about the river Axius, which afterwards became Macedonia.

At length, in the tenth year of the war, after great exertions of valour and the slaughter of numbers on both sides, among whom were many of the highest rank, Troy yielded to its fate. Yet was it not then overcome by open force; stratagem is reported by Homer; fraud and treachery have been supposed by later writers. It was, however, taken and plundered: the venerable monarch was slain: the queen and her daughters, together with only one son remaining of a very numerous male progeny, were led into captivity. According to some, the city was totally destroyed, and the survivors of the people so dispersed that their very name was from that time lost. But the tradition supported by better authority, and in no small degree by that of Homer himself, whose words upon the occasion seem indeed scarcely doubtful, is, that Æneas and his posterity reigned over the Trojan country and people for some generations; the seat of government however being removed from Troy to Scepsis: and Xenophon has marked his respect for this tradition, ascribing the final ruin of the Trojan state and name to that following inundation of Greeks called the Æolic emigration.

_Agamemnon’s Sad Home-coming_

Agamemnon, we are told, triumphed over Troy; and the historical evidence to the fact is large. But the Grecian poets themselves universally acknowledge that it was a dear-bought, a mournful triumph. Few of the princes, who survived to partake of it, had any enjoyment of their hard-earned glory in their native country. None expecting that the war would detain them so long from home, had made due provision for the regular administration of their affairs during such an absence. It is indeed probable that the utmost wisdom and forethought would have been unequal to the purpose. For, in the half-formed governments of those days, the constant presence of the prince as supreme regulator was necessary towards keeping the whole from running presently into utter confusion. Seditions and revolutions accordingly remain recorded almost as numerous as the cities of Greece. Many of the princes on their return were compelled to embark again with their adherents, to seek settlements in distant countries. A more tragical fate awaited Agamemnon. His queen, Clytemnestra, having given her affection to his kinsman Ægisthus, concurred in a plot against her husband, and the unfortunate monarch on his return to Argos was assassinated; those of his friends who escaped the massacre were compelled to fly with his son Orestes; and, so strong was the party which their long possession of the government had enabled the conspirators to form, the usurper obtained complete possession of the throne. Orestes found refuge at Athens; where alone among the Grecian states there seems to have been then a constitution capable of bearing both the absence and the return of the army and its commander without any essential derangement.

Such were the Trojan war and its consequences, according to the best of the unconnected and defective accounts remaining, among which those of Homer have always held the first rank. In modern times, as we have seen, the authority of the great poet as an historian has been more questioned. It is of highest importance to the history of the early ages that it should have its due weight; and it may therefore be proper to mention here some of the circumstances which principally establish its authority; others will occur hereafter. It should be observed then that in Homer’s age poets were the only historians; whence, though it does not at all follow that poets would so adhere to certain truth as not to introduce ornament, yet it necessarily follows that veracity in historical narration would make a large share of a poet’s merit in public opinion, a circumstance which the common use of written records and prose histories instantly and totally altered. The probability and the very remarkable consistency of Homer’s historical anecdotes, variously dispersed as they are among his poetical details and embellishments, form a second and powerful testimony. Indeed, the connection and the clearness of Grecian history, through the very early times of which Homer has treated, appear very extraordinary when compared with the darkness and uncertainty that begin in the instant of our losing his guidance, and continue through ages.[h]

CHARACTER AND SPIRIT OF THE HEROIC AGE

In the tales of Grecian mythology a great difference is apparent between the earlier and later centuries of the heroic age. They show us a considerable progress in culture during the course of the period. The legends of Perseus, Hercules, and Theseus, or of the battle of the Lapithæ and Centauri, depict the early Greeks as a half wild race tormented by fierce animals, robbers, and tyrants. Giants, fearful snakes, and other monsters, also adventures in the nether world, often appear in these legends, and the Grecians seem to be engaged in a battle with the wildness of nature and with their own crudity. The same land appears utterly different in the legends and poems of the Trojan war and the other events of the later heroic age. In these legends the manners of the Greeks are represented as friendlier and more peaceful, and, with a few exceptions, we find no more real miracles, but everything points to a quieter time and a more orderly state of affairs.

We have a poetical, yet essentially faithful, description of these last centuries in the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_, the two oldest extant Grecian literary works. Both poems are, besides the recital of a part of the heroic legends, a true picture of the customs, the conquering spirit, and the domestic as well as public life of the Greeks at the time of the Trojan war and immediately after it. The Grecians at that time do not seem to have been a very numerous people. They lived in small states, with central cities in active intercourse with one another, not differing much in their ways of life, customs, and language. They were a rustic, warlike race, who rejoiced in simple customs and led a happy existence under a friendly sky. The similarity of religion, language, and customs made the Greeks of that time, as it were, members of a great organism, holding together although divided into many tribes and states. At the end of the heroic age some of the tribes were brought even closer together by near relationship and by means of temples and feasts in common. But the link that held them all together had not as yet become a clear conviction; therefore, so far there was no joint name for the Greek nation.

Agriculture and cattle raising were the principal occupations of the people. Besides this they had few industries. Other sources of wealth were the chase, fishing, and war. The agriculture consisted of corn and wine-growing and horticulture. The ox was the draught animal, donkeys and mules were used for transport, horses were but seldom used for riding, but they drew the chariots in time of war. The herds consisted principally of cattle, sheep, goats, and pigs. Slaves were used for the lower work. These were purchased from sea-robbers, obtained in victorious wars, or born in the house. They had a knowledge of navigation, although their ships generally had no decks, and were worked more by means of oars than sails. There was no commerce on a large scale; war and piracy served instead as a means of obtaining riches. Many metals were known; they used iron, the working of which was still difficult. Coinage was not used at all, or, at all events, very little. Weaving was the work of women; the best woven stuffs, however, were obtained from the Phœnicians, who were the reigning commercial people of the Grecian seas. They made various kinds of arms, which were in part of artistic workmanship, ornaments and vessels of metal, ivory, clay, and wood. The descriptions of these objects show that the taste for plastic art, that is, the representation of beautiful forms, was already awakened among them. They possessed further a knowledge of architecture; towns and villages are mentioned, also walls with towers and gates. The houses of princes were built of stone; they contained large and lofty rooms, as well as gardens and halls.

Caste was unknown to the Grecians. The people in the heroic age, to be sure, consisted of nobles and commons, but the latter took part in all public affairs of importance, and the privileges of the former did not rest upon their birth alone; an acquisition of great strength, bravery, and adroitness was also necessary--virtues which are accessible to all. The difference between the two classes was, therefore, not grounded, like the oriental establishment of caste, on superstition and deception, but on the belief that certain families possessed bodily strength and warlike abilities, and were therefore appointed by the gods as protectors of the country; that their only right to superiority over others lay in their actual greater capacity for ruling and fighting.

The system of government was aristocratic monarchy, supported by the personal feelings and co-operative opinions of all free men. The state was thus merely a warlike assembly of vigorous men, consisting of nobles and freemen, having a leader at their head. The latter was bound to follow the decisions of the nobility, and in important affairs had to ask the consent of the people.

The king was only the first of the nobility, and the only rights he possessed which were not shared by them was that of commander in battle and high priest. Therefore, if he wished to excel others as real ruler, everything depended on his personality; he had to surpass others in riches, bodily strength, bravery, discernment, and experience. The king brought the sacrifice to the gods for the totality and directed the religious ceremonies. He also sat in judgment, but mostly in company with experienced old men from the nobility, being really arbitrator and protector of the weak against the strong; for if no plaintiff appeared there was no trial at the public judgment-seat. It was the king’s duty to offer hospitality to the ambassadors of other states and to be hospitable to strangers generally. His revenues consisted only of the voluntary donations of his subjects, of a larger share in the spoils of war, and of the produce of certain lands assigned to him. The only signs of his royalty were the sceptre and the herald that went before him. He took the first place at all assemblies and feasts, and at the sacrificial repasts he received a double helping of food and drink. He was addressed in terms of veneration, but otherwise one associated with him as with any other noble, and there was no trace of the oriental forms of homage towards kings among the ancient Greeks.

The nobility was composed of men of certain families to whom especial strength and dexterity were attributed as hereditary prerogatives; they sought to keep these up by means of knightly practices and to prove them on the battle-field. As has already been said, they took part in the government of the country. The common people or free citizens of the second class were assembled on all important occasions, to give their votes for peace or war, or any other matter of importance. The assemblies of the people described in the _Iliad_ and _Odyssey_ show the same general participation in public affairs and that lively activity which later reached such a high development in the Grecian republics. Beside this, at that time bravery and strength showed what every man was worth, and still more than mere bodily strength, experience, eloquence, and a judicious insight into life and its circumstances brought to any one honour and importance.

In time of war the decision depended more upon the bravery of the kings and nobles than upon the fighting of the people, who arranged themselves in close masses on the battle-field. The chiefs were not trained to be generals or leaders, but rather brave and skilled fighters. Swiftness in running, strength and certainty in throw, and skill in wrestling as in the use of arms, of the lance and the sword, were the most important items. Every leader had his own chariot, with a young companion by his side to hold the reins, while he himself fought with a javelin. The fortifications of the towns consisted of a trench and a wall with towers. As yet they had no knowledge of how to conduct a siege. They knew of no implement which would serve in the taking of a town.

Music and poetry played an important part in the lives of these warlike people. These were inseparable from their meals, their feasts, and military expeditions. The lyre, the flute, and the pipe were the musical instruments in the heroic age; the trumpet was not used until the end of that time. Flute and pipe were the instruments of shepherds and peasants. The lyre, on the other hand, was played by poets and singers and even by many of the kings and nobles, and always served as the accompaniment of songs. The subjects of their songs were the deeds of living or past heroes. There were singers or bards who composed these songs and sang them while men stood round to listen and these bards were held in great esteem.

Religion and politics were closely connected; but there was no trace of a priesthood with predominant influence. The king was the director of sacrifices, the presence of a priest not being required. There already existed, to be sure, besides the ancient oracle of Dodona, the oracle of Delphi in Phocis, which became so celebrated at a later period; but neither had any great influence in the heroic age. On the other hand, there were so-called soothsayers, who were supposed to possess much wisdom and at the same time a kind of association with the gods. For this reason they were consulted, so as to foretell the results of important undertakings, and to discover the cause of general misfortunes as well as a means of removing them.

The most renowned of these men were Orpheus, who played the part of prophet in the expedition of the Argonauts; Amphiaraus, who joined the expedition of the Seven against Thebes in the same character; Tiresias, who was the prophet of the Thebans both at that time and in the war of the Epigoni; and lastly Calchas, the soothsayer of the Greeks in the Trojan war. Even these men had no influence to be compared with the oriental priesthood.

They were really only looked upon as pacifiers of the outraged godhead and as advisers; their soothsayings were not always respected, and when their prophecies were unsatisfactory they had to face the anger of those in power.

(From a Greek Statue)]

The religious belief of the heroic age was the origin of the later national religion. It sprang probably from various sources. Therefore it cannot be distinguished by any special belief like that of the Indians and Egyptians. The religion of the Greeks was never a perfected system and therefore not free from contradictions, especially as oriental conceptions were introduced into it from ancient times. The Grecians of this time believed heaven, or rather the summit of the towering Mount Olympus, to be inhabited by beings, like the earth; they imagined that these beings resembled human beings in appearance and inner nature, but with the difference that they ascribed to them invisibility, greater strength, freedom from the barriers of mortality, and a powerful influence over earthly things. The life of the gods, according to the representation of the heroic age, only differed from that of men in the fact that it had a more beautiful colouring and higher pleasures. They therefore looked upon the gods as personal beings and had that form of religion known as anthropomorphism, the essential characteristic of which is the belief that the gods resemble men. But joined in an inexplicable manner with this view, was the idea that the gods were at the same time natural phenomena and powers of nature. For instance Zeus, the king and ruler in the kingdom of the gods, was also regarded as the god of the atmosphere; Apollo of the sun; Poseidon the god of the sea; and the woods, wells, valleys, and hills were believed to be inhabited by divine beings called nymphs.

The king offered sacrifice for the people and every father for his house and family. The religious ceremonies consisted chiefly of sacrifices and prayers. There were but few temples, but on the other hand every town had a piece of land set apart, on which there was an altar. They did not feel bound to these holy places for the worship of the gods, but often built an altar on some spot in the open field for prayer and sacrifice. The sacrifice consisted in burning some pieces of flesh to the gods and the pouring of wine into the fire; while the rest was consumed at a general and merry feast. Even the appointed religious feast days had quite a festive colouring: they feasted, drank, joked, held tournaments, and listened while bards sang of the deeds of heroes. There was no trace to be found among the religious ceremonies of the heroic Greeks of that wild, intoxicating character which generally existed at the feasts of the oriental people.

This was how the character of the later Grecian heroic age was formed. They were a vigorous people, with warlike tastes and simple customs, living under a mild heaven. All took part in public affairs, all were free, and, in spite of a certain inequality among them, they were all connected; and divided by no great contrasts in education, the community felt no kind of oppression. The limited population of the country and the possession of slaves permitted a careless and merry way of life. Rough work was unknown to the greater part of the populace. They exercised their bodies and steeled their strength with warlike undertakings, hunting, practice with arms, and wrestling. Their mental intelligence was directed to higher things through religious customs and soothsayers, and developed rapidly by means of the merry association of the nobility, frequent consultations about public affairs, and mutual military expeditions; and, above all, by means of the poetical stories related by the bards, who put into pleasant form what all felt, and were the real teachers of a higher mental culture; and lastly by means of the elevating power of music.

The Greek, under his bright heaven, looked upon life in the kind sunlight of the upper world as a real life; but that of the lower regions seemed to him, even if he obtained the greatest honours, and reigned like Achilles “over the entire dead as king,” only a sombre picture as compared with the upper world: he loved life and did not throw it ostentatiously away, where there was no necessity. He did not look upon flying from a stronger foe as disgrace; swiftness of foot was regarded by him as a heroic merit, like cunning and a mighty arm.[d]

GEOGRAPHICAL KNOWLEDGE

If we endeavour to ascertain the extent of Homer’s geographical knowledge, we find ourselves almost confined to Greece and the Ægean. Beyond this circle all is foreign and obscure: and the looseness with which he describes the more distant regions, especially when contrasted with his accurate delineation of those which were familiar to him, indicates that as to the others he was mostly left to depend on vague rumours, which he might mould at his pleasure. In the catalogue indeed of the Trojan auxiliaries, which probably comprises all the information which the Greeks had acquired concerning that part of the world at the time it was composed, the names of several nations in the interior of Asia Minor are enumerated. The remotest are probably the Halizonians of Alyba, whose country may, as Strabo supposes, be that of the Chaldeans on the Euxine. On the southern side of the peninsula the Lycians appear as a very distant race, whose land is therefore a fit scene for fabulous adventures: on its confines are the haunts of the monstrous Chimæra, and the territory of the Amazons: farther eastward the mountains of the fierce Solymi, from which Poseidon, on his return from the Ethiopians, descries the bark of Ulysses sailing on the western sea. These Ethiopians are placed by the poet at the extremity of the earth; but as they are visited by Menelaus in the course of his wanderings, they must be supposed to reach across to the shores of the inner sea, and to border on the Phœnicians. Ulysses describes a voyage which he performed in five days, from Crete to Egypt: and the Taphians, though they inhabit the western side of Greece, are represented as engaged in piratical adventures on the coast of Phœnicia. But as to Egypt, it seems clear that the poet’s information was confined to what he had heard of a river Ægyptus, and a great city called Thebes.

On the western side of Europe, the compass of his knowledge seems to be bounded by a few points not very far distant from the coast of Greece. The northern part of the Adriatic he appears to have considered as a vast open sea. Farther westward, Sicily and the southern extremity of Italy are represented as the limits of all ordinary navigation. Beyond lies a vast sea, which spreads to the very confines of nature and space. Sicily itself, at least its more remote parts, is inhabited by various races of gigantic cannibals: whether, at the same time, any of the tribes who really preceded the Greeks in the occupation of the island were known to be settled on the eastern side, is not certain, though the Sicels and Sicania are mentioned in the _Odyssey_. Italy, as well as Greece, appears, according to the poet’s notions, to be bounded on the north by a formidable waste of waters.

When we proceed to inquire how the imagination of the people filled up the void of its experience, and determined the form of the unknown world, we find that the rudeness of its conceptions corresponds to the scantiness of its information. The part of the earth exposed to the beams of the sun was undoubtedly considered, not as a spherical, but as a plane surface, only varied by its heights and hollows; and, as little can it be doubted, that the form of this surface was determined by that of the visible horizon. The whole orb is girt by the ocean, not a larger sea, but a deep river, which, circulating with constant but gentle flux, separates the world of light and life from the realms of darkness, dreams, and death. No feature in the Homeric chart is more distinctly prominent than this: hence the divine artist terminates the shield of Achilles with a circular stripe, representing “the mighty strength of the river _Ocean_,” and all the epithets which the poet applies to it are such as belong exclusively to a river. Homer describes all the other rivers, all springs and wells, and the salt main itself, as issuing from the ocean stream, which might be supposed to feed them by subterraneous channels. Still it is very difficult to form a clear conception of this river, or to say how the poet supposed it to be bounded. Ulysses passes into it from the western sea; but whether the point at which he enters is a mouth or opening, or the two waters are only separated by an invisible line, admits of much doubt. On the farther side however is land: but a land of darkness, which the sun cannot pierce, a land of Cimmerians, the realm of Hades, inhabited by the shades of the departed, and by the family of dreams. As to the other dimensions of the earth, the poet affords us no information, and it would be difficult to decide whether a cylinder or a cone approaches nearest to the figure which he may have assigned to it: and as little does he intimate in what manner he conceives it to be supported. But within it was hollowed another vast receptacle for departed spirits, perhaps the proper abode of Hades. Beneath this, and as far below the earth as heaven was above it, lay the still more murky pit of Tartarus, secured by its iron gates and brazen floor, the dungeon reserved by Jupiter for his implacable enemies.

Some of the epithets which Homer applies to the heaven, seem to imply that he considered it as a solid vault of metal. But it is not necessary to construe these epithets so literally, nor to draw any such inference from his description of Atlas, who “holds the lofty pillars which keep earth and heaven asunder.” Yet it would seem, from the manner in which the height of heaven is compared with the depth of Tartarus, that the region of light was thought to have certain bounds. The summit of the Thessalian Olympus was regarded as the highest point on the earth, and it is not always carefully distinguished from the aerian regions above. The idea of a seat of the gods,--perhaps derived from a more ancient tradition, in which it was not attached to any geographical site,--seems to be indistinctly blended in the poet’s mind with that of a real mountain. Hence Hephæstus, when hurled from the threshold of Jupiter’s palace, falls “from morn to noon, from noon to dewy eve,” before he drops on Lemnos; and Jupiter speaks of suspending the earth by a chain from the top of Olympus.

NAVIGATION AND ASTRONOMY

A wider compass of geographical knowledge, and more enlarged views of nature, would scarcely have been consistent with the state of navigation and commerce which the Homeric poems represent. The poet expresses the common feelings of an age when the voyages of the Greeks were mostly confined to the Ægean. The vessels of the heroes, and probably of the poet’s contemporaries, were slender half-decked boats: according to the calculation of Thucydides, who seems to suspect exaggeration, the largest contained one hundred and twenty men, the greatest number of rowers mentioned in the catalogue: but we find twenty rowers spoken of as a usual complement of a good ship. The mast was movable, and was only hoisted to take advantage of a fair wind, and at the end of a day’s voyage was again deposited in its appropriate receptacle. In the day-time, the Greek mariner commonly followed the windings of the coasts, or shot across from headland to headland, or from isle to isle: at night his vessel was usually put into port, or hauled up on the beach; for though on clear nights he might prosecute his voyage as well as by day, yet should the sky be overcast his course was inevitably lost. Engagements at sea are never mentioned by Homer, though he so frequently alludes to piratical excursions. They were probably of rare occurrence: but as they must sometimes have been inevitable, the galleys were provided with long poles for such occasions. The approach of winter put a stop to all ordinary navigation. Hesiod fixes the time for laying up the merchant ship, covering it with stones, taking out the rigging, and hanging the rudder up by the fire. According to him, the fair season lasts only fifty days: some indeed venture earlier to sea, but a prudent man will not then trust his substance to the waves.

The practical astronomy of the early Greeks consisted of a few observations on the heavenly bodies, the appearances of which were most conspicuously connected with the common occupations of life. The succession of light and darkness, the recurring phases of the moon, and the vicissitude of the seasons, presented three regular periods of time, which, though all equally forced on the attention, were not all marked with equal distinctness by sensible limits. From the first, and down to the age of Solon, the Greeks seem to have measured their months in the natural way, by the interval between one appearance of the new moon and the next. Hence, their months were of unequal duration; yet they might be described in round numbers as consisting of thirty days. It was soon observed that the revolutions of the moon were far from affording an exact measure of the apparent annual revolution of the sun, and that if this were taken to be equal to twelve of the former, the seasons would pass in succession through all the months of the year. This in itself would have been no evil, and would have occasioned no disturbance in the business of life. Seen under the Greek sky, the stars were scarcely less conspicuous objects than the moon itself: some of the most striking groups were early observed and named, and served, by their risings and settings, to regulate the labours of the husbandman and the adventures of the seaman.

COMMERCE AND THE ARTS

Commerce appears in Homer’s descriptions to be familiar enough to the Greeks of the heroic age, but not to be held in great esteem. Yet in the _Odyssey_ we find the goddess, who assumes the person of a Taphian chief, professing that she is on her way to Temesa with a cargo of iron to be exchanged for copper: and in the _Iliad_, Jason’s son, the prince of Lemnos, appears to carry on an active traffic with the Greeks before Troy. He sends a number of ships freighted with wine, for which the purchasers pay, some in copper, some in iron, some in hides, some in cattle, some in slaves. Of the use of money the poet gives no hint, either in this description or elsewhere. He speaks of the precious metals only as commodities, the value of which was in all cases determined by weight. The _Odyssey_ represents Phœnician traders as regularly frequenting the Greek ports; but as Phœnician slaves are sometimes brought to Greece, so the Phœnicians do not scruple, even where they are received as friendly merchants, to carry away Greek children into slavery.

The general impression which the Homeric pictures of society leave on the reader is, that many of the useful arts,--that is, those subservient to the animal wants or enjoyments of life,--had already reached such a stage of refinement as enabled the affluent to live, not merely in rude plenty, but in a considerable degree of luxury and splendour. The dwellings, furniture, clothing, armour, and other such property of the chiefs, are commonly described as magnificent, costly, and elegant, both as to the materials and workmanship. We are struck, not only by the apparent profusion of the precious metals and other rare and dazzling objects in the houses of the great, but by the skill and ingenuity which seem to be exerted in working them up into convenient and graceful forms. Great caution, however, is evidently necessary in drawing inferences from these descriptions as to the state of the arts in the heroic ages. The poet has treasures at his disposal which, as they cost him nothing, he may scatter with an unsparing hand. The shield made by Hephæstus for Achilles cannot be considered as a specimen of the progress of art, since it is not only the work of a god, but is fabricated on an extraordinary occasion, to excite the admiration of men. It is clear that the poet attributes a superiority to several Eastern nations, more especially to the Phœnicians, not only in wealth, but in knowledge and skill, that, compared with their progress, the arts of Greece seem to be in their infancy. The description of a Phœnician vessel, which comes to a Greek island freighted with trinkets, and of the manner in which a lady of the highest rank, and her servants, handle and gaze on one of the foreign ornaments, present the image of such a commerce as Europeans carry on with the islanders of the South Sea. It looks as if articles of this kind, at least, were eagerly coveted, and that there were no means of procuring them at home.

It is possible that Homer’s pictures of the heroic style of living may be too highly coloured, but there is reason to believe that they were drawn from the life. He may have been somewhat too lavish of the precious metals; but some of the others, particularly copper, were perhaps more abundant than in later times; beside copper and iron, we find steel and tin, which the Phœnicians appear already to have brought from the west of Europe, frequently mentioned. There can be no doubt that the industry of the Greeks had long been employed on these materials. We may therefore readily believe that, even in the heroic times, the works of Greek artisans already bore the stamp of the national genius. In some important points, the truth of Homer’s descriptions has been confirmed by monuments, brought to light within our own memory, of an architecture which was most probably contemporary with the events which he celebrated. The remains of Mycenæ and other ancient cities seem sufficiently to attest the fidelity with which he has represented the general character of that magnificence which the heroic chieftains loved to display. On the other hand, the same poems afford several strong indications that, though in the age which they describe such arts were, perhaps, rapidly advancing, they cannot then have been so long familiar to the Greeks as to be very commonly practised; and that a skilful artificer was rarely found, and was consequently viewed with great admiration, and occupied a high rank in society. Thus, the craft of the carpenter appears to be exceedingly honourable. He is classed with the soothsayer, the physician, and the bard, and like them is frequently sent for from a distance. The son of a person eminent in this craft is not mixed with the crowd on the field of battle, but comes forward among the most distinguished warriors. And as in itself it seems to confer a sort of nobility, so it is practised by the most illustrious chiefs. Ulysses is represented as a very skilful carpenter. He not only builds the boat in which he leaves the island of Calypso, but in his own palace carves a singular bedstead out of the trunk of a tree, which he inlays with gold, silver, and ivory. Another chief, Epeus, was celebrated as the builder of the wooden horse in which the heroes were concealed at the taking of Troy. The goddess Athene was held to preside over this, as over all manual arts, and to favour those who excelled in it with her inspiring counsels.

The chances of war give occasion, as might be expected, for frequent allusions to the healing art. The Greek army contains two chiefs who have inherited consummate skill in this art from their father Æsculapius; and Achilles has been so well instructed in it by Chiron, that Patroclus, to whom he has imparted his knowledge, is able to supply their place. But the processes described in this and other cases show that these might often be the least danger from the treatment of the most unpractised hands. The operation of extracting a weapon from the wound, with a knife, seems not to have been considered as one which demanded peculiar skill; the science of the physician was chiefly displayed in the application of medicinal herbs, by which he stanched the blood, and eased the pain. When Ulysses has been gored by a wild boar, his friends first bind up the hurt, and then use a charm for stopping the flow of blood. The healing art, such as it was, was frequently and successfully practised by the women.

We have already seen that several of the arts which originally ministered only to physical wants, had been so far refined before the time of Homer, that their productions gratified the sense of beauty, and served for ornament as well as for use. Hence our curiosity is awakened to inquire to what extent those arts, which became in later times the highest glory of Greece, in which she yet stands unrivalled, were cultivated in the same period. Unfortunately, the information which the poet affords on this subject is so scanty and obscure, as to leave room on many points for a wide difference of opinion. If we begin with his own art, of which his own poetry is the most ancient specimen extant, we find several hints of its earlier condition. It was held in the highest honour among the heroes. The bard is one of those persons whom men send for to very distant parts; his presence is welcome at every feast; it seems as if one was attached to the service of every great family, and treated with an almost religious respect; Agamemnon, when he sets out on the expedition to Troy, reposes the most important of all trusts in the bard whom he leaves at home. It would even seem as if poetry and music were thought fit to form part of a princely education; for Achilles is found amusing himself with singing, while he touches the same instrument with which the bards constantly accompany their strains. The general character of this heroic poetry is also distinctly marked; it is of the narrative kind, and its subjects are drawn from the exploits or adventures of renowned men. Each song is described as a short extemporaneous effusion, but yet seems to have been rounded into a little whole, such as to satisfy the hearer’s immediate curiosity.

_The Graphic Arts_

An interesting and difficult question presents itself, as to the degree in which Homer and his contemporaries were conversant with the imitative arts, and particularly with representations of the human form. We find such representations, on a small scale, frequently described. The garment woven by Helen contained a number of battle scenes; as one presented by Penelope to Ulysses was embroidered with a picture of a chase, wrought with gold threads. The shield of Achilles was divided into compartments exhibiting many complicated groups of figures: and though this was a masterpiece of Hephæstus, it would lead us to believe that the poet must have seen many less elaborate and difficult works of a like nature. But throughout the Homeric poems there occurs only one distinct allusion to a statue, as a work of human art. The robe which the Trojan queen offers to Athene in her temple, is placed by the priestess on the knees of the goddess, who was therefore represented in a sitting posture. Even this, it may be said, proves nothing as to the Greeks. They can only be admitted as additional indications that the poet was not a stranger to such objects.

To pictures, or the art of painting, properly so called, the poet makes no allusion, though he speaks of the colouring of ivory, as an art in which the Carian and Mæonian women excelled. It must, however, be considered that there is only one passage in which he expressly mentions any kind of delineation, and there in a very obscure manner, though he has described so many works which imply a previous design.[c]

THE ART OF WAR

The art of war is among the arts of necessity, which all people, the rudest equally and the most polished, must cultivate, or ruin will follow the neglect. The circumstances of Greece were in some respects peculiarly favourable to the improvement of this art. Divided into little states, the capital of each, with the greater part of the territory, generally within a day’s march of several neighbouring states which might be enemies and seldom were thoroughly to be trusted as friends, while from the establishment of slavery arose everywhere perpetual danger of a domestic foe, it was of peculiar necessity both for every individual to be a soldier, and for the community to pay unremitting attention to military affairs. Accordingly we find that so early as Homer’s time the Greeks had improved considerably upon that tumultuary warfare alone known to many barbarous nations, who yet have prided themselves in the practice of war for successive centuries. Several terms used by the poet, together with his descriptions of marches, indicate that orders of battle were in his time regularly formed in rank and file. Steadiness in the soldier, that foundation of all those powers which distinguish an army from a mob, and which to this day forms the highest praise of the best troops, we find in great perfection in the _Iliad_. “The Grecian phalanges,” says the poet, “marched in close order, the leaders directing each his own band. The rest were mute: insomuch that you would say in so great a multitude there was no voice. Such was the silence with which they respectfully watched for the word of command from their officers.”

Considering the deficiency of iron, the Grecian troops appear to have been very well armed both for offence and defence. Their defensive armour consisted of a helmet, a breastplate, and greaves, all of brass, and a shield, commonly of bull’s hide, but often strengthened with brass. The breastplate appears to have met the belt, which was a considerable defence to the belly and groin, and with an appendant skirt guarded also the thighs. All together covered the forepart of the soldier from the throat to the ankle; and the shield was a superadded protection for every part. The bulk of the Grecian troops were infantry thus heavily armed, and formed in close order many ranks deep. Any body formed in ranks and files, close and deep, without regard to a specific number of either ranks or files, was generally termed a phalanx. But the Locrians, under Oïlean Ajax, were all light-armed: bows were their principal weapons; and they never engaged in close fight.

Riding on horseback was yet little practised, though it appears to have been not unknown. Some centuries, however, passed before it was generally applied in Greece to military purposes; the mountainous ruggedness of the country preventing any extensive use of cavalry, except among the Thessalians, whose territory was a large plain. But in the Homeric armies no chief was without his chariot, drawn generally by two, sometimes by three horses; and these chariots of war make a principal figure in Homer’s battles. Nestor, forming the army for action, composes the first line of chariots only. In the second he places that part of the infantry in which he has least confidence; and then forms a third line, or reserve, of the most approved troops. It seems extraordinary that chariots should have been so extensively used in war as we find they were in the early ages. In the wide plains of Asia, indeed, we may account for their introduction, as we may give them credit for utility: but how they should become so general among the inhabitants of rocky, mountainous Greece, how the distant Britons should arrive at that surprising perfection in the use of them which they possessed when the Roman legions first invaded this island, especially as the same mode of fighting was little if at all practised among the Gauls and Germans, is less obvious to conjecture.

The combat of the chiefs, so repeatedly described by Homer, advancing to engage singly in front of their line of battle, is apt to strike a modern reader with an appearance of absurdity perhaps much beyond the reality. Before the use of fire-arms, that practice was not uncommon when the art of war was at its greatest perfection. In Cæsar’s _Commentaries_ we have a very particular account of an advanced combat, in which, not generals indeed, but two centurions of his army engaged. The Grecian chiefs of the heroic age, like the knights of the times of chivalry, had armour apparently very superior to that of the common soldiers; which, with the skill acquired by assiduous practice amid unbounded leisure, might enable them to obviate much of the seeming danger of such skirmishes. Nor might the effect be unimportant. Like the sharp-shooters of modern days, a few men of superior strength, activity, and skill, superior also by the excellence of their defensive armour, might prepare a victory by creating disorder in the close array of the enemy’s phalanx. They threw their weighty javelins from a distance, while none dared advance to meet them but chiefs equally well-armed with themselves: and from the soldiers in the ranks they had little to fear; because, in that close order, the dart could not be thrown with any advantage. Occasionally, indeed, we find some person of inferior name advancing to throw his javelin at a chief occupied against some other, but retreating again immediately into the ranks: a resource not disdained by the greatest heroes when danger pressed. Hector himself, having thrown his javelin ineffectually at Ajax, retires toward his phalanx, but is overtaken by a stone of enormous weight, which brings him to the ground. If from the death or wounds of chiefs, or slaughter in the foremost rank of soldiers, any confusion arose in the phalanx, the shock of the enemy’s phalanx, advancing in perfect order, must be irresistible.

Another practice common in Homer’s time is by no means equally defensible, but on the contrary marks great barbarism; that of stopping in the heat of action to strip the slain. Often this paltry passion for possessing the spoil of the enemy superseded all other, even the most important and most deeply interesting objects of battle. The poet himself was not unaware of the danger and inconveniency of the practice, and seems even to have aimed at a reformation of it. We find indeed in Homer’s warfare a remarkable mixture of barbarism with regularity. Though the art of forming an army in phalanx was known and commonly practised, yet the business of a general, in directing its operations, was lost in the passion, or we may call it fashion, of the great men to signalise themselves by acts of personal courage and skill in arms. Achilles and Hector, the first heroes of the _Iliad_, excel only in the character of fighting soldiers: as generals and directors of the war, they are inferior to many. Excepting indeed in the single circumstance of forming the army in order of battle, so far from the general, we scarcely ever discover even the officer among Homer’s heroes. It is not till most of the principal Grecian leaders are disabled for the duty of soldiers that at length they so far take upon themselves that of officers as to endeavour to restore order among their broken phalanges.

We might, however, yet more wonder at another deficiency in Homer’s art of war, were it not still universal throughout those rich and populous countries where mankind was first civilised. Even among the Turks, who, far as they have spread over the finest part of Europe, retain pertinaciously every defect of their ancient Asiatic customs, the easy and apparently obvious precaution of posting and relieving sentries, so essential to the safety of armies, has never obtained. When, in the ill turn of the Grecian affairs, constant readiness for defence became more especially necessary, it is mentioned as an instance of soldiership in the active Diomedes, that he slept on his arms without his tent: but no kind of watch was kept; all his men were at the same time asleep around him: and the other leaders were yet less prepared against surprise. A guard indeed selected from the army was set, in the manner of a modern grand-guard or out-post; but though commanded by two officers high both in rank and reputation, yet the commander-in-chief expresses his fear that, overcome with fatigue, the whole might fall asleep and totally forget their duty. The Trojans, who at the same time, after their success, slept on the field of battle, had no guard appointed by authority, but depended wholly upon the interest which every one had in preventing a surprise; “They exhorted one another to be watchful,” says the poet. But the allies all slept; and he subjoins the reason, “For they had no children or wives at hand.” However, though Homer does not expressly blame the defect, or propose a remedy, yet he gives, in the surprise of Rhesus, an instance of the disasters to which armies are exposed by intermission of watching, that might admonish his fellow-countrymen to improve their practice.

The Greeks, and equally the Trojans and their allies, encamped with great regularity; and fortified, if in danger of an attack from a superior enemy. Indeed Homer ascribes no superiority in the art of war, or even in personal courage, to his fellow-countrymen. Even those inland Asiatics, afterwards so unwarlike, are put by him upon a level with the bravest people. Tents, like those now in use, seem to have been a late invention. The ancients, on desultory expeditions, and in marching through a country, slept with no shelter but their cloaks; as our light troops often carry none but a blanket--a practice which Bonaparte extended to his whole army, thereby providing a speedy and miserable death for thousands in his retreat from Russia. When the ancients remained long on a spot they hutted. Achilles’ tent or hut was built of fir, and thatched with reeds; and it seems to have had several apartments.[h]

TREATMENT OF ORPHANS, CRIMINALS, AND SLAVES

There are two special veins of estimable sentiment, on which it may be interesting to contrast heroic and historical Greece, and which exhibit the latter as an improvement on the former, not less in the affections than in the intellect.