ἡ μὲν δὴ πόλις ἡ τῶν Κορινθίων μεγάλη τε καὶ πλουσία διὰ παντὸς
ὑπῆρξεν, ἀνδρῶν τε ηὐπόρησεν ἀγαθῶν εἴς τε τὰ πολιτικὰ καὶ εἰς
τὰς τέχνας τὰς δημιουργικάς. STRABO VIII. 382.
[Sidenote: Mercantile and marine developments at Corinth quoted by
Thucydides to illustrate the conditions that led to the rise
of tyrannies.]
In the passage of Thucydides[945] in which he associates the origin of
tyranny with the acquisition of wealth, one other development is
mentioned as characteristic of the age. “Greece began to fit out fleets
and took more to the sea.”
If the views expressed in the last chapter are not entirely mistaken,
then in Greece Proper the earliest phases of all these developments, in
politics, in industry, and in commerce by land and sea, are all to be
associated with Pheidon of Argos. But on the same showing Pheidon was a
man born rather before his time and not quite in the right place.
The town marked out by its situation[946] to develop the new tendencies
to the fullest was Corinth, and it is in fact from Corinth that
Thucydides draws his illustration, mentioning in this connexion the
shipbuilding of the Corinthian Ameinokles about 704 B.C. and the naval
battle between Corinth and Corcyra of about 664 B.C.[947] He says
nothing about Corinthian tyrants, but the description of the situation
at Corinth is simply a paraphrase of that of the general situation that
led to tyrannies[948]. Corinth is chosen to exemplify the normal course
of things in a seventh century Greek town, and it may be taken as
certain that Thucydides regards the tyranny at Corinth as the outcome of
the mercantile and maritime developments described in the passage just
quoted.
Only, what was the personal relationship of the tyrants to the new
developments?
[Illustration: Fig. 22. Corinthian vase found at Corinth.]
[Illustration: Fig. 23. Corinthian terra cotta tablet depicting a potter
at his wheel.]
[Illustration: Fig. 24. Corinthian terra cotta tablet depicting the
interior of a kiln.]
[Sidenote: Seventh century Corinth was also a great industrial centre,
especially for pottery.]
Before attempting to answer this question, one important addition may be
made to Thucydides’ picture of the state of things in the city when the
tyranny arose. Corinth was not engaged only in commerce and shipping.
She was also a great industrial centre. In the chapter on Argos reasons
have been given for thinking that the tyrant Pheidon flourished just at
the time when pottery of the style called for want of a better name
proto-Corinthian was enjoying a great vogue in a great part of the Greek
world, that much at least of this ware was made in Pheidon’s dominions,
and that Pheidon took political measures to crush or cripple rival
centres. Towards the middle of the seventh century proto-Corinthian ware
was eclipsed by a new style, which with good reason has been named
Corinthian[949]. This new style became so popular that the invention of
the potter’s wheel was ascribed to a Corinthian[950]. Corinthian vases
of this period show one of the most decorative and distinctive styles of
pottery that has ever been invented. The style of decoration somewhat
recalls oriental carpets, and it was long ago plausibly suggested that
oriental carpets or tapestries furnished the models for the Corinthian
vase painters[951]. Two jugs in this style, one from Corinth
itself[952], the other from Corneto (Tarquinii), are shown in figs. 22
and 34. Votive tablets of the sixth century B.C. have been found at
Corinth that depict various stages of the manufacture. Two are here
reproduced (figs. 23, 24). This very distinctive pottery made its way
over a great part of the Greek world[953]. It has been found in large
quantities all over Sicily, South Italy and Etruria, in many parts of
Greece Proper, and in many places further east[954].
[Sidenote: Cypselus becomes tyrant at the height of these developments.]
Cypselus established himself as tyrant in 657 B.C. at the height of
these great developments of Corinthian industry, trade, and shipping. It
has been noticed by Busolt[955] that 657 is also the year of the
conquest of Sardis by the Cimmerians. The disturbances in Asia Minor may
have enhanced the importance of the western trade, in which Corinth was
particularly concerned[956]. They may incidentally have removed, at
least for the time being, a very powerful commercial rival, since
Corinth and Lydia appear to have been engaged in much the same
industries, namely weaving, dyeing, metallurgy, horse rearing and the
making of ointments, in addition to pottery, a fact that can hardly have
been accidental[957], and points to Corinth having been influenced by
Lydia. Both before and after the Cimmerian invasion Lydia and Corinth
appear to have been on excellent terms[958]: but this would not prevent
Corinthian merchants from growing more prosperous through Lydia’s
troubles[959].
[Sidenote: Cypselus and the beginnings of Corinthian coinage.]
Whether the rise of Cypselus had any connexion with the beginnings of
Corinthian coinage is a matter of dispute. Busolt[960] dates the
earliest issues some half century later than the establishment of the
tyranny. Head[961] on the other hand makes the coinage and the tyranny
begin approximately together and he is supported by Percy Gardner[962],
who dates the earliest coins of Corinth in the early part of the seventh
century but after 665 B.C.
[Illustration: Fig. 25. Coins of Corinth.]
If, then, as seems probable, the English numismatists are nearer the
truth than the German, the first issues of “colts,” as the coins were
colloquially called from the winged horse that they bore, may have
played their part in helping Cypselus to the tyranny. The traces of
Lydian influence support this view. But on the other hand Corinth, whose
trade was so preponderatingly with the west, may, like its colony
Corcyra, have felt the need of a coinage only comparatively late. Where
the main facts are so obscure and particulars are completely wanting it
is idle to carry speculation further.
For evidence as to Cypselus’ personal relationship to the commercial
developments of his age we must look elsewhere. Some modern writers have
indeed despaired of recovering any picture of the personal history of a
ruler who is variously described by our best authorities as having ruled
mildly[963] and with bloodthirsty severity[964]. [Sidenote: His personal
relationship when tyrant to the commercial developments of his age.]
This attitude is quite unnecessary. Both statements are in themselves
quite credible as contemporary accounts of the same regime from
different points of view. Still, by themselves they do not take us very
far. Fortunately we are better informed in other directions.
Of the Corinthian colonies in Western Greece, that lined the trade route
to Sicily and Italy and the Furthest West, Leukas, Ambracia and
Anaktorion were founded by Cypselus[965]. Leukas was converted by him
from a peninsula into an island for the greater convenience of
navigation[966].
Cypselus is said to have taxed his subjects heavily. This statement is
taken from the pseudo-Aristotelian _Oeconomica_[967], a work of no great
authority for our early period. The tax is associated by Suidas[968]
with the dedication of a colossus of beaten gold which “Didymus says was
made by Periander” (not Cypselus) “with the object of checking the
Corinthians in their luxury and arrogance.” Theophrastus, so Suidas also
states, called the statue the colossus not of Cypselus but of the sons
of Cypselus (Κυψελιδῶν). The statement of the _Oeconomica_ must
therefore be taken with reserve. But the story of Cypselus’ heavy
taxation states also that the tyrant made his subjects work and prosper
and able to pay the taxes[969].
[Sidenote: Personal relationships of his son Periander to these same
developments.]
Whatever the truth about the colossus the fact remains that the fame of
Cypselus was largely eclipsed by that of his son and successor
Periander, who was actually claimed by some writers as one of the seven
sages of early Greece[970]. This is unfortunate when we are searching
for origins, since Periander is said to have changed the character of
the sovereignty[971]. Even if the authorities who made this statement
are not particularly good, still it must be taken as in some part true.
The son born in the purple can never succeed exactly to the position of
the father who founded the house. Luckily however we are told the nature
of Periander’s change. He regarded himself as a soldier and sought to
make Corinth a great military power, whereas Cypselus had been a man of
peace with a peaceful policy[972]. So far therefore as Periander’s
policy was not directly or indirectly military, there is no need to
assume a break with that of his father.
He maintained and enlarged the colonial empire of the city[973]. As
regards Corinthian trade under Periander we are told that his public
revenues were all derived from its taxation[974]: but everything shows
that he did not follow the Bacchiads and tax it ruthlessly. Rather he
seems to have aimed at increasing his revenues by fostering commerce.
Corinthian shipping, with which the trade of the city was inseparably
bound up, certainly owed much to him. “He built triremes and plied both
seas[975].” This last statement seems intended to contrast Periander
with his father, whose activities had been mainly in the west. Periander
on the other hand is found acting in close concert with Thrasybulus the
tyrant of Miletus[976]. He has been suspected of slave-dealing with
Lydia[977], and acted as arbitrator between that state and Miletus[978].
He had a nephew who bore the name of a king of Egypt[979]. In order the
better to “ply both seas” he is said to have wanted to cut a canal
through the Corinthian Isthmus[980]. Here too he was following in the
footsteps of his father who had “velificated” Leukas.
It is interesting therefore to notice the emphasis laid on Periander’s
wealth[981], and to recall the social legislation attributed to him by
Nicolaus Damascenus, according to whom the tyrant “forbad the citizens
to acquire slaves and live in idleness, and continually found them some
employment[982].” Heraclides[983] and Diogenes Laertius (quoting Ephorus
and Aristotle)[984] state that he did not allow anybody and everybody to
live in the city. Their statement is capable of many interpretations. It
may mean that Periander sought to control labour in the city or to
prevent the rural population from quitting the land for the superior
attractions of life in the great industrial centre.
In short from first to last the tyranny at Corinth is seen taking an
active part in guiding the industrial, commercial and maritime
activities of the city[985]. This however is what might be expected from
any able government at the period, and nobody has ever questioned the
Cypselids’ ability. The previous government, that of the aristocracy of
the Bacchiads, had “exploited the market with impunity[986],” and very
possibly this short-sighted policy had hastened and helped their
fall[987].
[Sidenote: Before he became tyrant Cypselus was probably polemarch,]
But how precisely were they overthrown? What was the career of Cypselus
previous to his obtaining the tyranny?
According to Nicolaus Damascenus, who based himself largely on the
fourth century Ephorus[988], Labda, the mother of Cypselus, belonged to
the Bacchiad aristocracy, but owing to a personal deformity[989] she had
married beneath her. Her husband, Eetion, is variously said to have been
descended from the pre-Hellenic Lapithae of Thessaly[990] and from a
non-Dorian stock of Gonussa above Sicyon[991]. In any case, as observed
by How and Wells[992], Eetion belonged to the pre-Dorian “Aeolic”
population of Corinth[993]. The Bacchiad aristocracy was extremely
exclusive. Its members married only among themselves. Consequently the
official oracles prophesied evil from this union, and when a son was
born of it, the government sent agents to destroy the child. But the
infant melted the hearts of its would-be murderers, and instead of
killing it they went back and reported that they had done so. The infant
was sent away by its parents to Olympia, and was brought up first there
and then at Cleonae. Encouraged by a Delphic oracle Cypselus returned to
Corinth, became very popular, was elected polemarch, and made himself
still more popular by refusing to imprison citizens and remitting in all
cases his part of their fines. Finally he headed a rising against the
unpopular Bacchiads, killed Patrokleides, who was king at the time, and
was made king in his stead. He ruled mildly, neither maintaining a
bodyguard nor losing the people’s favour[994].
Such is the account given by Nicholas of Damascus. For the greater part
of it we have no earlier authority. But once more we must be on our
guard against too hasty scepticism. Ephorus, who is generally admitted
to have been the source of this account, was not further removed from
Cypselus than this age is from Cromwell. Cypselus was the foremost man
of his age in all Greece. We need to be very sceptical of such
scepticism as that of Busolt[995], who argues that Cypselus cannot have
been polemarch before he became tyrant because if his parentage was not
known he would not have been eligible, while if it was he would not have
been elected[996]. As pointed out many years ago by Wilisch[997], such
arguments are dangerous when applied to times of which so little is
known. The aristocracy which fell in 657 B.C. may have begun to totter
some time earlier. Given the requisite gaps in our knowledge, Busolt’s
line of argument might be equally well used to discredit the received
tradition about the Victorian age in England on the ground that it
contains the highly improbable statement that the leader of the
aristocratic party was an Italian Jew.
Ephorus seems to have been used by Aristotle[998]. It would be rash
indeed to follow Busolt[999] and agree that such a source may yet be
valueless. Aristotle is not to be treated in this way. The whole
character of his work forces us to start with the assumption that he had
some idea of the difference between myth and historical tradition. We
always know the reasons why modern scholars are sometimes inclined to
discredit him. We do not always know the reasons that led Aristotle to
accept as facts what he so accepts. What we do know is that the material
on which he based his statements was far more ample than that which is
now at our disposal. Even for a period so comparatively remote from him
as the seventh century B.C. Aristotle must have been able to collect
much evidence of one sort or another to confirm him alike in his doubts
and his beliefs[1000].
For eighth century Corinth Aristotle and his contemporaries
probably[1001] had the poems of the Corinthian Eumelos, a ποιητὴς
ἱστορικός[1002] who flourished about 750 B.C. and wrote among other
works an epic called Κορινθιακά. A prose history of Corinth (Κορινθία
συγγραφή) was also ascribed to him. The ascription is doubted by
Pausanias[1003], not without reason, but it may still have been a
document of some value and antiquity. The same is true of the “didactic
poem in two thousand lines” ascribed by Diogenes Laertius to Periander
himself[1004]. We are learning to take our ancient records more on their
face value than was done by our grandfathers in the nineteenth century.
The classical historians, using the word in its widest sense, are still
suffering from the reaction against the doctrine of verbal inspiration.
The story of the infant Cypselus is put by Plutarch[1005] into the mouth
of a certain “Chersias the poet,” who is represented as having during a
banquet given by Periander “mentioned others whose lives had been saved
when despaired of and in particular Cypselus the father of Periander.”
One of the sceptics[1006] has recently accepted this Chersias as
historical and imagined Plutarch as here making use of a poem of his
which he proceeds to explain as a fiction invented to give an appearance
of legitimacy to the Cypselids. The explanation is quite gratuitous. It
is true that Diogenes Laertius[1007] speaks of Periander as “of the race
of the Heraclids.” But Chersias in Plutarch does not mention even the
parents of Cypselus, much less his remote ancestors, and there is no
evidence that he had them in mind[1008]. The poem itself is a doubtful
item. The only inference to be drawn from Plutarch is that to his
readers the poem (assuming its existence) probably seemed in keeping
with the scene. It is however well to be reminded that even Plutarch had
much more literary material to draw from for this early period than have
the moderns.
On the whole therefore the safest attitude towards the narrative of
Nicolaus will be one of benevolent agnosticism. No doubt he had a
tendency to rationalize half or wholly mythical stories. It is not
improbable that he did this to some extent in his account of the infant
Cypselus with which we can compare the version of Herodotus. But when he
makes a simple statement of commonplace fact, as, for instance, that
Cypselus was polemarch before he became tyrant, the most prudent and the
most critical course is to accept it as probably true[1009]. The reason
why the record of this fact was preserved is not far to seek. The fourth
century historians seized on the name as evidence that Cypselus was in
fact as well as in name a ruler of the same order as Dionysius, who
started his career as a military demagogue. [Sidenote: but that is no
evidence of military power. Cypselus cannot have been a military
despot.] But the context shows that the polemarch was not in this case a
military officer[1010], and we know by implication that Cypselus was not
a warlike person, for the record of how Periander changed the character
of the government goes on to say that he _became_[1011] warlike. And, as
remarked long ago by Schubring[1012], if the tenure of the polemarchy is
historical, still it was not the means by which Cypselus reached the
tyranny, but rather like the murder of the Bacchiad Patrokleides, a sign
and token that he was already in a position to seize it. [Sidenote: What
then was the basis of his power? The only possible evidence is to be
found in the story] Nicolaus therefore brings us little nearer to
understanding the basis of the future tyrant’s power. Our only hope of
doing this lies in Herodotus, who tells the story of the infant Cypselus
with certain details omitted by Nicolaus but which probably contain the
essence of the story. According to Herodotus[1013] Cypselus was the
child from the cypsele in which as an infant his mother had concealed
him from his would-be murderers. [Sidenote: which makes Cypselus the
child from the cypsele.] If we are to believe Plutarch, the story of the
cypsele could still in his days be traced back to the days of
Periander[1014]. It is easy to point out[1015] that we are here up
against a widespread story of which different versions have been
attached to such different names as Sargon of Akkad (_c._ 3800
B.C.[1016]), Moses, Romulus and Cyrus[1017]. But even if we accept a
common origin for all these stories, we are not very much further on. We
should still have to determine why and how Cypselus found a place in the
series. [Sidenote: What is a cypsele? Not, in spite of some ancient and
modern authorities, either an ark or a wooden chest.] But it must not be
too hastily assumed that the cypsele of Cypselus has anything at all to
do with the ark that Pharaoh’s daughter found on the banks of the
Nile[1018] or the “alueus” discovered by the shepherd Faustulus on the
banks of the Tiber. In both these cases[1019] the vessel could float and
was discovered by a river side. Cypselus was not discovered. That is the
whole point of the story. He was not exposed in a river or sea like
Romulus or Perseus. And it is more than doubtful whether a cypsele has
any connexion whatever with an alueus or ark. It is true that they are
more or less identified by our ancient authorities. Pausanias[1020], who
wrote his guide to Greece in the second century A.D., professed to have
seen at Olympia the very cypsele in which Cypselus had been hidden and
from which he was said to have got his name. It was a coffer (λάρναξ) of
wood and ivory elaborately carved. The description leaves no doubt that
it was of archaic Corinthian workmanship of the time of the tyrants or
not much later[1021]. But it is extremely doubtful whether this carved
box was a cypsele or had any original connexion with the cypsele story.
Plato[1022], Aristotle[1023], and Plutarch[1024] all refer to the
dedications of the house of Cypselus without alluding to this object.
Herodotus says nothing about the cypsele having been dedicated. For
Strabo[1025] the chief dedication of Cypselus was a “golden hammered
Zeus.” Dio Chrysostom[1026] (about 100 A.D.) refers to what Pausanias
calls the cypsele of Cypselus, but describes it simply as the “wooden
box (ξυλινὴ κιβωτός) dedicated by Cypselus.” From Pausanias himself it
is plain that the object was not by any means what the Greeks of his
time understood by a cypsele. His statement[1027] that the ancient
Corinthians called a coffer a cypsele raises a suspicion that nobody
else ever did. It is probably only an inference drawn by the traveller
from the fact of this particular coffer being so called by the guides at
Olympia[1028].
[Sidenote: Meanings of the word “cypsele” given by the ancients.]
The Olympian larnax does not at all correspond to the picture of a
cypsele suggested by the ancient notices on the subject, which, quite
apart from the light they may possibly throw on Cypselus, deserve a more
detailed examination than they have hitherto received[1029].
The meanings of the word given by the ancients are as follows:
(1) A wine vessel[1030],
(2) A vessel to receive wheat or barley[1031],
(3) Part of a furnace[1032],
(4) A beehive[1033],
(5) Vessels for sweet condiments[1034], or receptacles for such
vessels[1035],
(6) The hole of the ear[1036],
(7) Wax in the ears[1037].
[Sidenote: Cp. coins of Cypsela.]
This literary evidence may be supplemented from a numismatic source.
Some fourth century B.C. coins of the Thracian Cypsela[1038] show a more
or less cylindrical vessel with two small vertical handles[1039]. A
similar vessel, resting on what is probably a grain of corn, is shown on
other coins of the same century and from the same district[1040]. The
vessel has very plausibly been identified as a cypsele.
[Illustration: Fig. 26. Coins of Cypsela.]
[Sidenote: Inferences as to size, shape, and material.]
At first sight the various uses of the word appear rather miscellaneous,
especially if we include (6) and (7). But (6) and (7) need not be
brought in. They are late uses derived from (4)[1041]. Meaning (5) is
probably to be eliminated on the same grounds. This leaves us with (1)
to (4), all of them vessels of large size, a feature implicit in the
Cypselus legend and confirmed by the ancient lexicographers[1042].
For the material of cypselae under meanings (1) to (5) the only written
evidence is found in (i) schol. Aristoph. _Pax_ 631, which says that
“cypselae were not only woven (πλεκταί) but also of pottery (κεραμεαῖ),”
(ii) a scholiast to Lucian, _Lexiphanes_, 1, which explains the cypsele
as (_a_) “the narrow-mouthed unpitched vessel of pottery,” (_b_) an
earthenware vessel, (_c_) [addit. C] “the name is also given to a sort
of woven vessel,” (iii) Hesychius, who explains a cypsele as a
wickerwork beehive.
These statements quite suit the list of uses. As between the two
materials mentioned the Aristophanes scholiast gives the impression that
the commoner was wicker or basket work. But in the Lucian scholiast
wickerwork is only an afterthought added by a later hand. The Lucian
scholiast is probably more correct. Pottery is a natural material for
every kind of cypsele. Cypselae (1) and (3) can never have been of
basketwork, and for (5) it looks a most unlikely material, though we
know too little about ancient spice vessels to speak with certainty. For
(2) it is suitable enough, but the cypselae of the Thracian coins, which
the emblem of the grain of corn shows to have been probably corn jars,
point in the other direction. Their shape suits either terra cotta or
metal but not wickerwork. The probable use practically excludes
metal[1043]. (4) is according to Hesychius a “plaited beehive,” _i.e._ a
hive of basketwork, and this statement is accepted by M. Pottier[1044].
No doubt it was true at the time when it was made. But is it so certain
that the earliest cypsele beehives were of basketwork? The first
reference to beehives is in the _Odyssey_, which describes hives of
stone in the shape of vases (κρητῆρες and ἀμφιφορῆες)[1045]. These
Homeric beehives must have been either prototypes or glorifications of
hives of earthenware[1046], and it is tempting to classify these latter
with the cypsele form of hive, especially in the light of the cypsele on
the Thracian coins, which has much the shape of a mixing bowl except
that the handles are of a type more frequent on the amphora. These coins
are of the first half of the fourth century. Our literary authorities
are all much later. Most of them mention earthenware beehives only to
condemn them[1047]. Presumably they were out of fashion. Basketwork
hives[1048] on the other hand are spoken of without condemnation. When
therefore they define the cypsele beehive as a basketwork beehive, they
practically mean a round or vase-shaped hive like the “little pail where
the bee distils his sweet flow” of Antiphilus[1049], as distinguished
from the rectangular form that was also much in use[1050].
This is assuming that cypselae were never rectangular, but the
assumption seems fairly safe. Neither plaiting nor pottery adapts itself
to rectangular shapes. Wine vessels are not usually square. The cypsele
of the coins is not rectangular.
[Illustration: Fig. 27. Attic vase painting, perhaps depicting a
cypsele.]
[Illustration: Fig. 28. Attic vase painting, perhaps depicting a
cypsele.]
There remains the “certain part of a furnace” referred to by Hesychius.
Whatever this may have been, it is most unlikely that it was rectangular
for the simple reason that ancient Greek furnaces appear from extant
pictures to have no rectangular parts that could possibly be so
identified. Pictures of ancient Greek furnaces are numerous, and it is
surprising that no attempt seems to have been made to discover a cypsele
in any of them, for it is not unlikely that some of these pictures do in
fact depict it, and in that case they show us the earliest form of the
object of which we have any precise record.
[Illustration: Fig. 29. Attic vase painting, perhaps depicting a
cypsele.]
[Sidenote: Probable pictures of a cypsele on sixth-century Attic vases,
depicting it as a large terra cotta vase.]
In Saglio’s _Dictionnaire des Antiquités_, s.v. Fer, figs. 2964, 2965,
(here figs. 27, 28), pictures are reproduced from two black figure vases
that depict furnaces being used, in all probability for treating
iron[1051]. On the top of either furnace is depicted what de Launay
describes as a “sorte de vase, sans doute de terre cuite[1052].” A
similar vase is shown _ibid._ s.v. Caelatura, fig. 937[1053] (here fig.
29) on top of what the context shows to be the furnace of a bronze
foundry[1054]. This latter picture is on an early red figure vase[1055].
In all three cases the “sort of vase” is very large, as is shown by
comparing it in size with the human figures in the picture. In short
both in size, shape, use and probably material it answers to the written
descriptions of one variety of cypsele. What it does not so well answer
to is the vase represented on the coins of Cypsela, which is tall and
cylindrical and shows two vertical handles. Fortunately there is a
connecting link between the two forms. In the Berlin Museum there is an
actual stove of terra cotta, said to have been found in the sea off
Iasos (coast of Asia Minor)[1056]. It is about ·50 m. high and of a
common enough type[1057], though it is rare to find one so well
preserved[1058]. What however gives the Iasos example its importance is
a vase ·13 m. high and ·192 diameter, of the same dark brown micaceous
clay as the stove itself, that was found along with it and fits so well
on top of it that it must unquestionably have formed part of the
complete article[1059]. Here we have a vase of considerable size that in
shape has resemblances to the vases on the coins of Cypsela, but in its
bulging sides deviates from them in the direction of our conjectured
cypselae of the vase paintings. In position and in use as the receptacle
for material to be heated, it corresponds with these latter. Though
comparatively large, it must remain doubtful whether it is large enough
to be a cypsele. But in any case it helps to connect the vases of the
Cypsela coins with the “part of a furnace” of the vase paintings, and to
make it probable that the latter was made of pottery and that both are
rightly identified as cypselae. The objects on the vase paintings differ
from all our other hypothetical cypselae in having no handles; even the
beehive cypsele has been connected with craters and amphorae, both of
which normally have two handles. But it is use as often as shape that
determines the name of a vase, and from the point of view of use the
Iasos vase is probably to be classed with a vase figured on a Greek
funeral relief (fig. 31)[1060]. Here we have an object very similar in
shape to our conjectured cypselae of the vase paintings, resting on what
Dumont[1061] called a réchaud. Its size may be judged by comparing it
with a human head from the same relief. There is no _a priori_ reason
why the ancient cypsele, like the modern glass or bottle or cup or mug,
should not show much diversity in the matter of handles and of shape
generally. The evidence just collected suggests that such was in fact
the case, and it becomes the more likely when we remember that we are
dealing with a period of some centuries. The Cypsela coins date only
from the fourth century. The portable stoves of the Iasos type are later
still[1062]. The funeral relief with the vase and réchaud is dated by
Dumont in the first century A.D.[1063].
[Illustration: Fig. 30. Vase on stove found at Iasos.]
[Illustration: Fig. 31. Relief, perhaps depicting a small cypsele.]
On the other hand the vases depicting the cypsele that forms part of a
furnace[1064] belong to the fifth or sixth century B.C., and thus bring
us to within measurable distance of Cypselus himself[1065]. A cypsele of
this description would be an admirable hiding-place for a baby, provided
it was technically speaking a good baby, not given to crying[1066].
Eventually, as has been seen, the box version of the story won the day:
but from the Greek point of view there would be nothing impossible in a
version which hid the child in an earthen jar. Eurystheus[1067] sought
safety from Heracles in a πίθος or jar. In the seventh and sixth
centuries infants were usually buried in large terra cotta vases not
unlike those we are here considering. In the fifth century Aristophanes
represents a supposititious child as introduced into the house in an
earthenware pot[1068].
In short everything points to the cypsele of Cypselus having been a
large vessel of pottery. May not Herodotus after all be right when he
says that the tyrant got his name from the cypsele? The story of the
attempted murder and the ten bad men may be older than Cypselus. But if
so we have to explain how it came to be attached to the Corinthian
tyrant. [Sidenote: Was Cypselus (the child from the cypsele) a potter
who got his name from his occupation?] Is it not possible that it was
given to him as being ἐκ τῶν κυψελῶν (just as later the demagogue
Hyperbolus, who had spent his early days in a lamp factory, was spoken
of as the man from the lamps, οὑκ τῶν λύχνων[1069]) or in other words to
denote his connexion with the Corinthian potteries which at this period
were supplying a great part of the civilized world?
[Sidenote: Evidence for the plausibility of this suggestion. (i) Such
names do occur, notably among potters.]
Hyperbolus does not offer the only analogy for this suggestion or even
the closest. In the chapter on Rome[1070], when tracing the source of
the power of the Tarquins, we shall have occasion to examine the story
of the Corinthian potters Eucheir and Eugrammus, who lived just at this
period and whose names meaning “skilful with the hand” and “skilful at
painting” are palpably derived from their occupation[1071].
Cypselus may possibly have adopted, or inherited from the founder of the
firm, a cypsele as his badge or emblem, and this may have been the
immediate origin of his name. These personal or family badges or arms
were widely used in ancient Greece. Among the many found on the
Heraclean tables[1072] a κιβώτιον (box) occurs three times. A κιβώτιον
is not a cypsele; but it is a similar object and shows that a cypsele
might have been similarly used. The emblems as a rule seem to be
entirely arbitrary and unconnected with the bearer’s name or occupation.
But the word κιβωτὸς (in the original non-diminutive form) became the
nickname of Apamea in Phrygia from the fact that so much packing was
done in that great centre of trade[1073].
[Sidenote: (ii) Agathocles, tyrant of Syracuse, is said to have been a
potter,]
If Cypselus was originally a potter he may be compared with Agathocles,
tyrant at the end of the fourth century of Syracuse, the great daughter
city of Corinth. Agathocles is said to have been the son of a
potter[1074]. According to Diodorus Siculus, the Delphic oracle
prophesied over the infant Agathocles (as it had over Cypselus) that “he
would be the cause of great misfortunes” to his country: and as a result
of the prophecy it was resolved to do away with the child, who however
was saved by its mother. Eventually the father was told that the child
had been saved, and took it back, and “being poor he taught Agathocles
the potter’s trade (τὴν κεραμευτικὴν τέχνην) while he was still a boy.”
This story is probably to be traced back to Timaeus, who is quoted by
Polybius[1075] for the statement that Agathocles was a potter, and is
the only source of Diodorus actively hostile to the tyrant, by whom he
had been banished from Sicily[1076].
[Sidenote: in what is probably a fiction intended to suggest a
comparison with Cypselus.]
Plainly in great part at least the story of the young Agathocles is a
piece of malicious fiction. What is its prototype? I cannot help
suspecting that it is Cypselus himself. It is true that there is no
cypsele or larnax in the story, and Bauer[1077] connects it with the
legends of the youthful Cyrus and infant Romulus. But neither is there
an animal to suckle the infant, which the experts state to be the
essential feature of the Cyrus Romulus cycle[1078]. The oracle and the
rescue by the mother are both salient incidents of the Cypselus story.
In the Cyrus story we have dreams and their interpretation by Magians,
not nearly so close an analogy. The dreams too indicate only the
greatness of the child that is to be born. The Cypselus story indicates,
like that of Agathocles, the harm the child will do[1079]. Agathocles
grew up in the days when the great name in Sicily was that of the
Corinthian Timoleon. The thoughts of Sicily were all turned towards
Corinth, and we find this rapprochement reflected in the Syracusan coins
of the period, which show the Corinthian types of the helmeted goddess
head and Pegasus[1080]. What more natural therefore, especially for the
banished Timaeus, than to compare Agathocles with Cypselus[1081]? It is
not impossible that from this seditious analogy there grew up the story
that Agathocles was the son of a potter[1082]. The alternative is to
accept Agathocles’ early connexion with “the wheel, the clay, and the
smoke[1083]” of the pottery as a historical fact: but this is less
likely. Polybius himself warns us against accepting Timaeus on
Agathocles as truthful history, and seems himself to suspect his own
quotation about the tyrant having been a potter in his early days. The
elder brother of Agathocles was a prominent statesman and soldier in
Syracuse early in his career, before the younger brother had risen to
the tyranny: Agathocles himself appears early in his career to have
reached high rank in the army and to have lived in intimate relations
with some of the Syracusan nobility[1084]. The tyrant’s father was
banished from Rhegium in the days when that city was under Dionysius of
Syracuse, from which fact Beloch[1085] reasonably infers that he was a
distinguished personality. Beloch supposes that Agathocles inherited a
big pottery business. If this view is right, then the pottery does not
seem to have greatly helped the future tyrant in his public career,
which from first to last was essentially military. Still, though the
capitalist tyrant was already a thing of the past in Greece Proper,
Sicily was in some ways younger than the mother country, and it is not
impossible that Agathocles possessed a pottery, and that it played a
part, though not the leading one, in helping him on to the throne.
Agathocles was the contemporary of the Roman Appius whose suspected
attempt at a financial despotism is discussed in the chapter on Rome.
Before his accession he is described as having become very rich: but his
riches are attributed to his marriage[1086]. The evidence about
Agathocles’ early career is not decisive. But on any interpretation it
lends plausibility to the view that Cypselus started life as a potter.
[Sidenote: Cypselus as a common noun.]
In the whole of this long discussion as to how Cypselus acquired his
name it has been assumed that Herodotus was right in declaring that he
derived it direct from cypsele. The fact that there is a common noun
cypselus hardly affects this assumption. It is true that the cypselus is
a bird, but the bird in question is shown by Aristotle’s account of
it[1087] to be either the house-martin[1088] or some similar
species[1089] that derives its name from its clay-built nest. The
cypselus is in fact the potter-bird.
[Sidenote: King Cypselus of Arcadia.]
But are we right in our main assumption? There is of course an
alternative possibility. The story of the infant Cypselus may have been
attached to him solely to explain his unusual name. Schubring’s
instances of stories that he thinks to have arisen in this way are
neither convincing in themselves nor altogether analogous[1090]. But
there is one fact that offers more solid grounds for not accepting
Cypselus as a name that the tyrant derived from his occupation. An early
king Cypselus of Arcadia is mentioned by Pausanias[1091].
This is a genuine difficulty. But there are several ways of meeting it.
It is for instance quite conceivable that two different individuals
should have independently earned the same nickname. The name need not
have been used in the same sense on both occasions. The cypselus is not
only the potter-bird. It is also one of the most conspicuous of
migrants[1092]. It may have been from this latter point of view that the
name was thought appropriate for a king of the period of the great
migrations.
If this be thought unlikely we might borrow a page from the sceptics and
throw doubts upon the Arcadian’s historical existence. We might explain
him away as the eponymous hero of the Arcadian Cypsela[1093]. Or again,
it might be pointed out that he is said to have been an ancestor of his
Corinthian namesake’s daughter-in-law, Melissa the wife of
Periander[1094]. The Arcadian Cypselus might then be disposed of as a
creation of the pedigree-mongers of the period when the marriage between
Melissa and Periander took place[1095].
[Sidenote: The third tyrant of Corinth, whom Aristotle calls
Psammetichus,]
There is another name in the pedigree of the Corinthian tyrants from
which historical conclusions have frequently been drawn. According to
Aristotle the third and last of the tyrants (587–584 B.C.) was called
Psammetichus, a name which, as we have seen already, was borne by the
first Pharaoh of the Saite (twenty-sixth) dynasty, which appears to have
based its power largely on foreign mercenaries and foreign trade, both
mainly Greek[1096]. The Egyptian name of the Corinthian tyrant has
rightly been held to establish some sort of connexion between the two
states during the age of the tyrants. It has often been assumed[1097]
that Psammetichus of Corinth got his name directly from the Egyptian
royal family. No certainty is to be had on this point. The name, though
unknown before the time of Psammetichus I, appears to have become common
during the twenty-sixth dynasty[1098]. A Greek mercenary named
Psammetichus son of Theocles commanded the expedition which has left us
the graffiti of Abu Symbel[1099]. The name and position of the son of
Theocles show that the Corinthian tyrant might have got his Egyptian
name through a Greek intermediary. But on the other hand there is a fair
probability that the governments of Corinth and Egypt at this period
were in touch with one another either directly or through their common
friend Miletus[1100].
[Sidenote: an Egyptian name meaning probably “vendor of bowls,”]
But the really curious point about a Cypselid being called Psammetichus
lies in the meaning of the name, which, as seen above[1101], is most
probably to be interpreted “man (vendor) of mixing bowls.” If this
interpretation is correct Psammetichus and Cypselus are synonyms. Now
the modern historians generally follow Aristotle[1102], and give the
name of the last tyrant of Corinth as Psammetichus. [Sidenote: is given
by Nicolaus the name of Cypselus,] But our other ancient authority,
Nicolaus of Damascus[1103], states that Periander was succeeded by a
second Cypselus, “who came from Corcyra and became tyrant of Corinth
until certain of the Corinthians combined and slew him ... and freed the
city.” Psammetichus is called by Aristotle the son of Gorgos, Cypselus
II is described by Nicolaus as son of Periander’s brother Gorgos[1104].
A Psammetichus son of Gorgos is mentioned by Nicolaus as having been
sent to Corcyra by Periander. The same author makes Cypselus II come
from Corcyra to succeed Periander on the throne of Corinth. It is hard
to avoid the conclusion reached by Busolt[1105] that Cypselus II and
Psammetichus are one and the same person. But need we follow Busolt
further[1106] and assume that Psammetichus changed his name to Cypselus
on his accession? Psammetichus I of Egypt in his early days when he was
a vassal of Assyria, appears to have received from his overlord the
Assyrian name of Neboshazban[1107]. Possibly therefore the Egyptian king
might take it as a compliment if a Greek adopted an Egyptian name. But
even this is doubtful. The Saites would not be extremely anxious to
follow the practices of Assyria and Babylon: the Greeks did not readily
change their names. On the other hand the Greeks loved to find
equivalents between Greek names and Egyptian, as we see most markedly in
their treatment of Greek and Egyptian gods[1108], and heroes[1109], and
likewise of Egyptian place-names[1110]. [Sidenote: which suggests that
the two names were regarded by their bearer as synonyms meaning vendor
of pots.] Is it not therefore rather more probable that from beginning
to end the last of the Corinthian tyrants bore the name of his
grandfather, according to the familiar Greek custom, and that Cypselus
and Psammetichus were employed consciously as the Greek and Egyptian
forms of one and the same name[1111], both alike meaning “man of pots.”
It may of course have been an accident that of the three names borne by
the three tyrants of the Greek potteries two should be derived from
words denoting some species of pot: but if so it is a very curious one.