found in Wessex, which are called the Deverel-Rimbury type, and
which are dated by Lord Abercromby[351] as lasting from 950 to 650
/B.C./ Crawford, following Déchelette, brings in his invasion about
800 /B.C./, or rather later, and, though we may find grounds for
believing that their arrival may have been earlier it looks as though
the finger-tip pottery of the Deverel-Rimbury type may have been here
before the coming of the people with the Type G Swords. Be that as
it may, we learn from Lord Abercromby that in the south of England
several types of pottery preceded the Deverel-Rimbury type, the one
immediately preceding it being his Type 3, which he believes to have
been in use between 1150 and 950 /B.C./, if not earlier.[352] Many of
these, such as those from Wiltshire, Nos. 373, 374 and 379, exhibit the
characteristic ornament of this finger-tip ware. If Lord Abercromby’s
chronology is even approximately correct, and it is in these cases
vouched for by a series of excellent synchronisms, the pottery
characteristic of Central Europe had been introduced into the south of
England some centuries before the arrival of the people who introduced
the Type G swords. This leads us to suspect that the Type E swords were
also brought by an invading people, fairly early in the Type E period,
as a certain number of Type D swords have also occurred.
It is unnecessary to pursue this argument through other countries,
or to point out that some of our cinerary urns are in shape exactly
like the bronze buckets used in Central Europe at the dawn of the iron
age. We shall have occasion to discuss the special conditions in other
countries in later chapters. Here it will be sufficient to suggest that
all the British evidence tends to show that the spread of these swords
was accompanied by a movement of pottery and other elements of culture,
that at Brentford by the existence of skulls and elsewhere by inference
we may conclude that there was a corresponding movement of people,
and that in the British Isles, at any rate, the presence of this
considerable number of leaf-shaped swords betokens an invasion. There
seems to be no sufficient reason for believing that the circumstances
were materially different in the other regions in which these swords
have been found.
Chapter IX
GREEK LANDS AND THE BASIS OF CHRONOLOGY
We have seen in the last chapter that different types of leaf-shaped
swords have been disseminated throughout various quarters of Europe,
and we have found reason for believing that in Celtic lands at least
their appearance signified a hostile invasion. If, as may well be the
case, the same is true of other parts of Europe, we are dealing with
a series of invasions, all starting from somewhere within the Celtic
cradle, and affecting almost every part of the continent. Our purpose
in this work is not so much to record evidence as to interpret it, to
restore the main features of early history rather than to describe
archæological remains. Now the backbone of history is chronology, and
we cannot interpret our evidence satisfactorily unless we can place it
in its true chronological setting. In discussing the seven types of
swords an endeavour was made to arrange them in an orderly sequence,
and thus to set up a relative chronology. In this chapter a positive
system of dating will be attempted.
It is clear that it is to the south-east that we must first look
for help, for in Greek lands documentary evidence reaches back some
centuries further than it does elsewhere in Europe, and is preceded
by an immense mass of tradition, much of which clearly belongs more
to legend than to myth. These legends, moreover, have received
intensive study, and their contents have been brought into line with
archæological data.[353] Further than this we have the two swords found
in Egypt, one of them engraved with a monarch’s name, so that a study
of these south-eastern specimens should enable us to obtain one point,
at least, in our system of dates.
Now it has been pointed out by Sir William Ridgeway[354] that certain
people, whom he calls “Achæans,” entered Greece from the north,
bringing with them certain elements of culture, which can best be
matched in the Danube basin. These, according to the traditions
preserved in the Iliad, were the immediate ancestors of the heroes of
the Trojan War. Recently Dr. Wace,[355] who has made a careful study
of the pre-Hellenic remains of the mainland of Greece, especially of
the pottery, has pointed out that there is but one break in the ceramic
evolution of that region, the introduction of geometric ware. This is,
he believes, best explained by equating it with the Dorian invasion,
which took place some generations after the siege of Troy. Dr. Wace
has certainly made out a strong case, and we must accept his view that
no invasion, in the strict sense of the term, preceded that of the
Dorians; but while he would have us scrap the “Achæan” hypothesis in
its entirety, we must, I think, consider awhile before dismissing all
the evidence that Sir William Ridgeway has accumulated.
Much of Ridgeway’s archæological evidence is Hallstatt in type and,
apparently at least, Hallstatt in date, and may well equate better
with the Dorian than the “Achæan” movement, but the legends are not to
be lightly swept aside, and we have the swords, which are admittedly
pre-geometric, and so pre-Dorian, and may well antedate also the Trojan
War. There is also the introduction into southern Greece of a type of
palace, which seems to have developed in a more northerly clime.[356]
We have, therefore, evidence for some intrusive elements entering Greek
lands from the Danube basin, bringing with them swords of Central
European type, a new type of domestic architecture, and, we may well
believe, certain deities and beliefs of more northern origin,[357] yet
the continuity of the ceramic culture shows that there had been no
general displacement of the population.
Before attempting to decide between these conflicting views, it may be
wise to consider the term “Achæan.” By this I mean only those people,
who are the subject of Sir William Ridgeway’s hypothesis, and who
organised the attack upon Priam’s Troy. They may, for all we know, be a
people or merely a class, and their connection with the Achæans of the
Peloponnese, discussed by Herodotus,[358] may be very remote. It seems
clear, in fact, that the term as used by Herodotus connoted something
very different from what the term meant to Homer, and what it signifies
in the pages of Ridgeway.
Now the presence of these leaf-shaped swords in pre-Dorian Greece seems
to postulate the presence of intruders from the Danube basin; the
paucity of their number, all the more striking when we consider the
extent of the excavations carried out in Greek lands, seems to indicate
that these intruders were few. These swords had been, as we have seen,
invented by the Nordic steppe-folk in Central Europe, and may sometimes
have been used by their Alpine subjects. But for a few strangers
to intrude into a foreign land needs on their part considerable
courage and the spirit of adventure, features which we have found
characteristic of the Nordic steppe-folk, and conspicuously lacking
among the Alpines. We may, therefore, take it for granted that these
intruders, who introduced the leaf-shaped swords into Greek lands, were
of Nordic type and temperament.
The heroes of the Trojan War, as Ridgeway has pointed out, were
newcomers to the land.[359] In most cases their grandfathers are
mentioned, seldom a great-grandfather, unless it is to state that he
was a god. Sometimes even the grandfather was a deity, as in the case
of Polypoites, but usually when this is so we have reason for believing
that the hero, like Nestor, the grandson of Poseidon, was an old man.
The earliest ancestor was sometimes Zeus, but usually the pedigree is
not actually traced to the divine forefather. In a large number of
cases, especially of the minor heroes, they are said to be of the stock
of Ares. Dr. Hall has suggested that Ares and his mistress Hera were
the chief deities of these northern invaders.[360]
We hear very little in the Iliad of these first human ancestors of
the “Achæans,” nor has later Greek legend much more to say about most
of them. We have, however, various stories of heroes, arriving alone
like Theseus, Perseus, Herakles, and Peleus, or perhaps accompanied
by one friend like Amphitryon, at some Greek city. The hero is well
received by the king of the city, and often relieves him of some
difficulty, whether it be the repulse of a hostile attack, as in the
case of Theseus and the Pallantids, or Amphitryon and the Telebœans,
the punishment of robbers, such as Periphates, Sinis, Sciron, Cercyon
or Damastes, or the slaying of wild beasts like the Cromyon sow, the
Marathon bull, the Cadmeian fox, or the various monsters slain by
Herakles. The king honours the visitor, the princess, like Ariadne,
Comœtho or Polymela, falls in love with him, then some unfortunate
accident occurs, as was the case with Ægeus, Acrisius, and Eurytion,
and the king is slain. The hero then ascends the throne, marries the
princess, and, as the fairy tales say, they lived happily ever after.
Such is the almost universal burden of Greek legend, as it is of the
_märchen_, which grew up in the northern forests.
It has been usual to interpret the stories of these heroes as referring
to invading peoples, and to believe that the name of the chief only
has survived, whereas the memory of the people has perished. That such
was often the case is likely, but when dealing with the first “Achæan”
intruders we must guard ourselves against taking this for granted.
Dr. Wace’s arguments are all against the arrival of a fresh people at
this time, for there is no introduction of new styles of pottery; on
the other hand, there is nothing in his evidence antagonistic to the
view that a few northern heroes, coming unaccompanied by men-at-arms,
succeeded in making themselves masters of the cities of pre-Hellenic
Greece. It is possible that in this case, as in many others, nineteenth
century scholarship has been too clever and too critical, and that the
legends as they have come down to us are nearer to the truth than the
amendments which have been suggested.[361]
We shall be able to judge better if we look at the actions of Nordics
in later times. At the downfall of the Roman empire it was not unusual
for quite small bands of Nordics to become masters of even large
territories; some of the Norsemen made themselves, single-handed, kings
of the cities in South Russia. Later Rollo, with but a handful of
men, became Duke of Normandy and defied the power of the Carolingian
monarch; later still small groups of Normans conquered Sicily, and set
up their rule in many places in the Mediterranean region. Lastly, how
often have Englishmen, sometimes quite alone, gained great influence in
large communities of aliens, and been in a position to make themselves
kings had they not preferred to annex the community to the British
Empire? Thus has much of the Empire been built up. But by far the best
parallel is the case of the first Rajah of Sarawak.
When such events have taken place in historical times, even in our own
day, we cannot consider it as impossible that wandering Nordic heroes
from the Danube basin, accompanied perhaps by a faithful henchman,
should have found it possible to establish themselves as kings over the
trading cities of Mycenean Greece.
But let us glance for a moment at these trading cities and their
inhabitants. The original people of the Greek mainland, like the bulk
of the present population, seem to have been of that eastern Alpine or
Dinaric type, scarcely distinguishable from the bulk of the population
of Asia Minor. These are tall dark people, with small but broad
heads, which are very high and somewhat conical at the top, though
sometimes the excessively flattened occiput gives the impression that
the head has been sliced from the top of the forehead to the back of
the neck. As far as one can judge from the available evidence, these
were the only inhabitants of the bulk of the peninsula, until coastal
settlements were made by the Cretans, some in the second Middle Minoan
period, but most of them at the beginning of the Late Minoan.[362]
The original inhabitants of Crete seem to have been typical members of
the Mediterranean race, but during Early Minoan times we find a few
broad-headed people arriving in the east of the island, and gradually
spreading over the eastern half.[363] It has been taken for granted,
quite naturally, that this broad-headed infusion came from Asia Minor,
the population of which at that time must have been exclusively
broad-headed. But about the time that these broad-heads appear in Crete
we find evidence in the island of the development of the copper mines
at Gournia,[364] and of the accumulation of gold ornaments, such as the
treasure of Mochlos.[365] There are also signs of the existence of an
oversea commerce and of a trade in olive oil with Egypt.[366]
This leads us to wonder whether these broad-heads belonged to wanderers
from Anatolia, or whether it is not more probable that here we have
evidence of the arrival of the Prospectors, who seem always to be the
organisers of oversea trade and of mining operations. We must remember
too, that by 2800 /B.C./, not long after the beginning of the Early
Minoan period, the Sumerians were trading in the Mediterranean, and
knew, if they had not already settled in, Crete.[367]
These are details of which we cannot speak with certainty at present,
but all the isolated data available are best explained by believing
that the great activities of the trade in the Ægean and especially
in Crete were organised by and were in the hands of Prospectors,
who had come originally, though not necessarily directly, from the
Persian Gulf, and who were employing the Mediterranean aborigines as
mariners, miners and craftsmen. When in Middle and Late Minoan times
these Cretans made settlements on the mainland, in the Argolid, in
Bœotia, and at Pylos, settlements which are recorded in the legends
of Danaus, Cadmus and Neleus, we can well believe that, while some of
their subjects were of the Mediterranean race, and others, perhaps,
drawn from the Alpine aborigines of the mainland, the rulers were in
all cases Prospectors.
Professor Ure[368] has recently shown us that in Greek lands, as
well as in renaissance Italy, we find two types of rulers, who may
be described as Kings and Tyrants. The king is a military chief, of
aristocratic bearing and origin, and one more often interested in
the territory than in the city. The tyrant, on the other hand, is
essentially a merchant or a business man, his outlook bourgeois, and he
rules over a city and its trading connections, rather than over a wide
expanse of land. In Greece, Ure believes, the introduction of metal
currency caused the earlier kings to be replaced by these tyrants
or merchant princes. He has supported his thesis by a vast mass of
evidence, which we need not repeat here, but in his conclusions I think
we may see the supplanting of the Nordic lord by the Prospector, as
times became more settled and trade, rather than fighting, became the
more important occupation.
Many of Ure’s arguments would apply equally to the Minoan age, when
piracy had been put down and oversea trade was booming. The rise of
the Greek tyrants was due, he thinks, to the rise of a coinage, just
as the modern plutocrat has risen to power on the development of paper
currency; the Minoan tyrant, comes to the front as metal, an easily
portable and exchangeable commodity, succeeds flint or obsidian. It was
into these trading cities, each governed by a Prospector tyrant, that
I believe these Nordic “Achæan” adventurers to have arrived from the
Danube basin with their leaf-shaped swords.
Now there are two classes of men, both of them wielding large powers
over others, whose characters have been sharply contrasted by many
writers. The kingly type is found in noblemen, at any rate of the old
school, mediæval knights, landed proprietors and officers of the army
and navy; the same traditions hold good in the upper ranks, at least,
of the civil service and among the professional classes. The relations
between these lords and the people committed to their charge, whether
subjects, tenants or employés, are usually good, and friction rarely
arises unless the subject class is of an alien race. These kings or
lords have usually been able to retain for generations the respect of
their subjects, often to inspire very great love and devotion.
On the other hand the leader, whose claim to his position rests only
upon wealth or the power to create wealth, is often even extravagantly
generous, and has usually ingratiating manners, which are in sharp
distinction from the _hauteur_ which is more characteristic of the
lord; yet he rarely makes himself loved or even liked by those
dependent on him, even though his actions be kind and his judgments
just. This contrast has furnished a theme to many writers, and has
been ably summarised by Ure,[369] who quotes in support pregnant
passages from the works of H. G. Wells[370] and William James.[371]
Such differences, Ure thinks, distinguished the king from the tyrant,
and the same contrast, I would suggest, held good between the “Achæan”
heroes and the rulers of the Minoan cities.
We have seen reason for believing that the population of the Minoan
cities of Greece consisted of Mediterraneans and perhaps some few
Alpines, under the rule of a Prospector tyrant. The latter’s rule was
possibly just, he made money for his city, but most of all for himself,
and, in spite of occasional fits of lavish generosity, he would not
have been popular. He was engaged in exploiting the proletariat, and
they were fully conscious of the fact. Though his manner was outwardly
ingratiating, he was distrusted by his subjects, who felt that they
were but pawns in his game. Thus the sword swayed over his head as over
that of Damocles, held only by a slender thread; revolutions or rumours
of revolutions were of constant occurrence, and the tyrant, intent on
money making, had little leisure or inclination, even if he had the
capacity, for maintaining order or of inspiring loyalty in the hearts
of his subjects.
We can well imagine that the arrival in such a community of one or two
northern barbarians, rough and rude, but strong and honest, would have
been like a breath of fresh air entering a stuffy room. The tyrant
would have welcomed a man who could put down highwaymen or lead his
mercenaries to battle. He would, perhaps, have made him chief of his
police or generalissimo of the town forces, and, as the hero restored
law and order and kept the populace quiet, he would have promised him
much reward, including perhaps his daughter’s hand. All would have gone
well until the tyrant, with the instinct of the Prospector to make a
bargain and to get something for nothing, endeavoured, like Laomedon of
Troy, to cheat his Nordic ally or to offer him a base substitute for
promises made.
The Nordic, as incapable of understanding such double-dealing as of
thus acting himself, would quite naturally have been incensed. We can
picture him accusing the tyrant of dishonesty and ejecting him from his
palace, when he would have fallen a speedy victim to the anger of his
subjects. The hero would have placed himself upon the vacant throne
with the help and goodwill of the people, who had admired his strength,
courage and fair dealing. Lastly, he would, perhaps, have married the
daughter of his predecessor, not so much from romantic motives as to
establish more completely his right to the throne, for, despite what
has been written to the contrary, some form of matrilinear succession
seems to have obtained in Minoan Greece.[372]
The Greek legends referring to the early heroes are full of such
details, and the above imaginary sketch may be taken as a composite
picture of the kind of events which took place, in all probability, in
many a city of pre-Hellenic Greece, as the leaf-shaped swords first
made their appearance.
We have, hitherto, taken it for granted that these “Achæan” intruders
were Nordic, and our reasons have been mainly the presence of the
swords, the northern character of their palaces and the fact that such
enterprises are in keeping with the subsequent behaviour of Nordic
adventurers. But the identification, perhaps, requires further proof.
The Nordics as we know were tall, fair and long-headed; how does this
agree with what we know of the “Achæan” heroes and their forbears?
The whole tenour of the legends, attributing to them deeds requiring
strength and endurance, certainly suggests that the heroes were
considered in later days to have been above the average in stature.
That they were fair-haired has been taken for granted by many
writers.[373] It has been suggested, however, that the fact that
Menelaus was called fair, signifies that he was in this respect an
exception to the rule, and that the others were as dark as the majority
of modern Greeks. Moreover, it has been pointed out that ξανθὀς may
only mean brown, and that Menelaus had brown hair.[374]
The first argument certainly carries some weight, and does seem to
imply that there was something exceptional in Menelaus’ fair hair.
But the Atreidæ, according to fifth century legend, were Pelopids,
and this is hinted, though not expressly stated, in the Iliad. Now
other legends bring Pelops from Phrygia, though, of course, this may
only signify that he was a Phrygian, who left the Briges before their
departure for Asia. But the Pelopidæ, in their customs, differed
from the other “Achæans.” Later legend attributes to them a type of
endogamy, interpreted afterwards as incest, infant sacrifice, and
cannibalistic habits. Æschylus[375] looks upon these customs as crimes,
and attributes them to a curse upon the House of Tantalus. I think,
however, we may see in the Pelopids, and perhaps in other groups of
_op_ peoples, some non-Nordic type, most probably Alpines of some kind,
who had accompanied the “Achæan” heroes southwards. That one of these
should be fair-haired would be unusual, though by no means impossible
if he had had a Nordic ancestress. If ξανθὀς ever meant brown it must
have meant light brown or auburn, and its force would be equally as
great as if it meant flaxen; the Mediterraneans and eastern Alpines
never have light brown hair; it is not uncommon among Nordics.
Lastly we may take the case of the Thracians, who, as we have seen,
were almost certainly the stock from which the “Achæans” were derived.
According to Ridgeway[376] some of these were fair and some dark, that
is to say a fair Nordic strain had entered a land peopled with dark
Alpines, and the result was a red-haired strain (πυρρὀς), as is often
the case when fair and dark strains have mixed.[377]
We have no right to expect from Homer, or any other Greek writer, an
account of the head-form of the “Achæan” heroes. Nevertheless we find
in the Iliad a word which gives us some indication on this point.[378]
It is noticeable that all the people mentioned by name are captains of
hosts, or members of the nobility; the Iliad only records the doings
of the “Achæan” heroes. One exception only is there to this rule. At
one moment the host, composed no doubt of Alpines and Mediterraneans,
thinks of revolting. Their leader is a mob-orator, fond of arguing as
is the way with Alpines, and we can have little doubt as to the racial
affinities of Thersites. If we had any, one epithet used of him would
satisfy us, for his head is described as φοξὀς. The exact meaning of
this term has been a matter of dispute, but it is usually rendered
“tapering to a point,” and the expression φοξὁς ἔην κεφαλἠν means that
he “had a sugar-loaf head.” What better description could we have of
the ordinary head-form of the eastern Alpine inhabitants of the Balkan
peninsula and Anatolia? If this had been the usual type of head of the
“Achæan” heroes, the epithet would not have been used as distinctive
of the rebellious soldier; it can only have been so used to imply how
different he was in this respect from the noble “Achæan.” This seems
to me to indicate, exceptionally clearly, that the Homeric heroes were
long-headed.