CHAPTER IX.

THE METALS IN HOMER.

THE undivided Aryans knew very little of the underground riches of the

earth. They transmitted to their dispersed descendants no common words

for mining, forging, or smelting, none to indicate a metal in general,

and only one designative of a metal in particular. This took in Sanskrit

the form _ayas_, in Latin, _æs_; it is represented by the German _Erz_,

equivalent to the English _ore_; and, after drifting through a Celtic

channel, took a new meaning and form as _Eisen_, or _iron_.[310] The

original signification of the term was _copper_; and copper seems, in

general, to have been the first metal to engage the attention of

primitive man. This is easily accounted for. Copper is widely

distributed; it frequently occurs in the native state, when its strong

colour at once catches the eye; it is easily worked, and displays a

luminous glow highly engaging to an unsophisticated taste for ornament.

And, because copper was at first the only substance of the kind known,

its name was used to determine those of other related substances. Thus,

in Sanskrit, iron was called ‘dark blue _ayas_,’ _ayas_ having come to

mean metal in general; and a specific sign (possibly that for

_hardness_) added, in the Egyptian inscriptions, to the hieroglyph for

copper, causes it to denote iron.[311] But in South Africa these

positions are exchanged. There iron ranks as the fundamental metal; gold

being known to at least one Kafir tribe as ‘yellow,’ silver as ‘white,’

copper as ‘red’ iron.[312] And to these linguistic facts corresponds the

exceptional circumstance, due probably to early intercourse with Egypt,

that the stone-age in South Africa yielded immediately to an iron-age.

Footnote 310:

Much, _Die Kupferzeit in Europa_, p. 173; Schrader and Jevons,

_Prehistoric Antiquities of the Aryans_, p. 188; Taylor, _Origin of

the Aryans_, p. 138.

Footnote 311:

Lepsius, _Les Métaux dans les Inscriptions Égyptiennes_, p. 55.

Footnote 312:

Schrader and Jevons, _op. cit._ p. 154; Rougemont, _L’Âge de Bronze_,

p. 14.

In Asia, gold was discovered next after copper, the Massagetæ, described

by Herodotus, exemplifying this stage of progress; silver, or ‘white

gold’ succeeded, bringing lead in its train; then, little by little, tin

crept into use; while iron, destined to predominate, came last. All the

six, however, are enumerated in a Khorsabad inscription;[313] they were

familiar to the ancient Egyptians, to the Israelites of the Exodus, and

to the Homeric Greeks.

Footnote 313:

Lenormant, _Trans. Soc. Bibl. Archæology_, vol. vi. p. 345.

Gold was with Homer supreme among terrestrial substances. It represented

to him beauty, splendour, power, wealth, incorruption. It was the metal

of the gods, and mortals by its profuse employment, borrowed something

of divine glory. Its availability for them had, nevertheless, narrow

limitations unfelt supernally. For the visionary metal of Olympus might

be dispensed at will without restrictions either as to quantity or

qualities. Inexhaustible stores of it lay at command; and it could be

rendered infrangible and impenetrable by some mythical process unknown

to sublunary metallurgists. Hence the golden hobbles with which Poseidon

secured his coursers might have proved less satisfactory for the

restraint of commonplace Thracian or Thessalian horses; the golden sword

of Apollo would surely have bent in the hand of Hector; the golden

mansion of the sea-god built for aye in the blue depths of the Ægean,

could not have supported its own weight for an hour on realistic dry

land; nor would the process of lifting earth to heaven by hauling on a

rope have been facilitated by making that rope (as Zeus proposed to do

for the purpose in question) of gold. Of gold, too, were the garments of

the gods, their thrones, utensils, implements, appurtenances; the

pavement of their courts was ‘trodden gold’; golden were the wings of

Iris, golden was the beauty of Aphrodite. No doubt, all these

attributions were half consciously metaphorical, but their main design

was to set off immortal existence by decorating it with an enhanced

degree of the same kind of magnificence marking the dignity of mortal

potentates.

It is remarkable that the Olympian gold in the Shield of Achilles

retained some part of the occult virtue properly belonging to it only in

that elevated sphere. Of the five metallic layers composing the great

buckler, the middle and most precious one gets the whole credit of

having arrested the quivering spears of Æneas and Asteropæus.[314] The

verses, to be sure, recording its superior efficacy are held to be

spurious, and the inclusion of a hidden stratum of gold does indeed seem

without reason, as it is certainly without precedent. Yet the original

poet would not have altogether disavowed the inspiring idea of the

passage; and the alleged impenetrability of the gold-mail of

Masistius[315] may be held to imply that traces of its old mystical

faculty of resistance lingered about the metal so late as when Xerxes

invaded Greece.

Footnote 314:

_Iliad_, xx. 268; xxi. 165; and Leaf’s annotations.

Footnote 315:

Herodotus, ix. 22.

The metallic treasures allotted to the gods in the Iliad are confiscated

for human enrichment in the Odyssey. For the golden automata of

Hephæstus are substituted the golden watch-dogs and torch-bearers of

Alcinous; resplendent dwellings are erected, no longer on Olympus or at

Ægæ, but in Sparta and Phæacia; Helen shares with Artemis in the Odyssey

the golden distaff exclusively attributed to the latter in the Iliad;

the ‘dreams of avarice,’ in short, are tangibly realised, in the Epic of

adventure, only by human possessions; they shrink for the most part into

shadowy epithets where divine surroundings are concerned. Nor is this

diversity accidental or unmeaning. It indicates a genuine shifting of

the mythological point of view—an advance, slight yet significant,

towards a more spiritualised conception of deity.

Oriental contact first stirred the _auri sacra fames_ in the Greek mind.

That this was so the Greek language itself tells plainly. For _chrusos_,

gold, is a Semitic loanword, closely related to the Hebrew _chârûz_, but

taken immediately, there can be no reasonable doubt, from the Phœnician.

The restless treasure-seekers from Tyre were, indeed, as the

Græco-Semitic term _metal_ intimates,[316] the original subterranean

explorers of the Balkan peninsula. As early, probably, as the fifteenth

century B.C. they ‘digged out ribs of gold’ on the islands of Thasos and

Siphnos, and on the Thracian mainland at Mount Pangæum; and the fables

of the Golden Fleece, and of Arimaspian wars with gold-guarding

griffins, prove the hold won by the ‘precious bane’ over the popular

imagination. Asia Minor was, however, the chief source of prehistoric

supply, the native mines lying long neglected after the Phœnicians had

been driven from the scene. Midas was a typical king in a land where the

mountains were gold-granulated, and the rivers ran over sands of gold.

And it was in fact from Phrygia that Pelops was traditionally reported

to have brought the treasures which made Mycenæ the golden city of the

Achæan world.

Footnote 316:

Schrader and Jevons, _Antiquities of the Aryans_, p. 155; Much, _Die

Kupferzeit in Europa_, p. 147.

The Epic affluence in gold was not wholly fictitious. From the

sepulchres of Mycenæ alone about one hundred pounds Troy weight of the

metal have been disinterred; freely at command even in the lowest

stratum of the successive habitations at Hissarlik, it was lavishly

stored, and highly wrought in the picturesquely-named ‘treasure of

Priam;’ and has been found, in plates and pearls, beneath twenty metres

of volcanic debris, in the Cycladic islands Thera and Therapia.[317]

This plentifulness contrasts strangely with the extreme scarcity of gold

in historic Greece. It persisted, however, mainly owing to the vicinity

of the auriferous Ural Mountains, in the Milesian colony of Panticapæum,

near Kertch, where graves have been opened containing corpses shining

‘like images’ in a complete clothing of gold-leaf, and equipped with

ample supplies of golden vessels and ornaments.

Footnote 317:

Much, _Die Kupferzeit_, p. 41.

Silver[318] was, at the outset, a still rarer substance than gold. Not

that there is really less of it. The ocean alone is estimated to contain

nearly ten thousand million tons, and the mines yielding it, though few,

are rich. But it occurs less obviously, and is less easy to obtain pure.

Accordingly, in some very early Egyptian inscriptions, silver, by

heading the list of metals, claims a supremacy over them which proved

short-lived. It terminated for ever with the scarcity that had produced

it, when the Phœnicians began to pour the flood of Spanish silver into

the markets and treasure-chambers of the East. Armenia constituted

another tolerably copious source of supply; and it was in this quarter

that Homer located the ‘birthplace of silver.’[319] Alybé, on the coast

of the Euxine east of Paphlagonia, whence the Halizonians came to Troy,

was identified by Strabo with Chalybe, a famous mining district.[320]

The people there, indeed, as Xenophon recorded, lived mostly by digging

iron; and their name was preserved in the Greek _chalups_, steel, and

survives with ourselves in _chalybeate_ waters. The district has,

however, in modern times, again become known as argentiferous. The

Homeric tradition receives countenance from the discovery, in the

neighbourhood of Tripoli, of antique, half obliterated silver-workings;

and from the existence, not far off, of a ‘Silver-town’ (Gunnish-kana),

and a ‘Silver-mountain’ (Gunnish-dagh), whence a large tribute in silver

still flowed, a few years ago, into the leaky coffers of Turkey.[321]

Footnote 318:

Blümner, _Technologie der Gewerbe_, Bd. iv. pp. 28-32.

Footnote 319:

_Iliad_, ii. 857.

Footnote 320:

_Geog._ xii. 3.

Footnote 321:

Rougemont, _L’Âge de Bronze_, p. 169; Riedenauer, _Handwerk und

Handwerker_, p. 101.

The word _silver_ (Gothic, _silubr_) has even been conjecturally

associated with the Homeric Alybé;[322] while other philologists prefer

to regard it as equivalent to the Assyrian _sarpu_.[323] All that is

certain is the absence of a general Aryan name for the metal, showing

that the Aryans collectively made no acquaintance with it. Thus, the

Greek _arguros_ and the Latin _argentum_, although closely related, are

really different words. That is to say, they were formed independently

from the common root, _ark_, to shine, modified into _arg_, white. Its

whiteness, in fact, has supplied the designations of this metal in all

parts of the world. Silver is the ‘white iron’ of the Kaffirs, the

‘white gold’ of the Afghans, the ‘white copper’ of the Vedic Indians;

and the antique Accadians and Egyptians defined it by the same obvious

quality.[324] The Greek _arguros_ is, then, a comparatively late word,

formed, perhaps, after the Achæan tribes were already settled in their

Hellenic home, when their first supplies of silver began to come in from

Pontic Asia Minor.

Footnote 322:

Hehn, _Wanderings of Plants_, p. 443.

Footnote 323:

Taylor, _Origin of the Aryans_, p. 143.

Footnote 324:

Schrader and Jevons, _Antiquities of the Aryans_, pp. 154, 180-82.

The subsequence of its invention to the adoption into the Greek language

of _chrusos_, gold, can be inferred from the relative paucity of proper

and placenames compounded with it. Homer has only four such, while his

‘golden’ appellations number thirteen. Take as specimens the series

Chryse, Chryses, and Chryseïs, designating a place in the Troad, the

priest of Apollo in that place, and his daughter, all memorably

connected with the tragic Wrath of Achilles. The nomenclature, no doubt,

took its rise from solar associations; yet the typical relationship

between gold and the sun, silver and the moon, is nowhere in the Epics

directly recognised. Helios is never decorated with the epithet

‘golden’; Apollo, if he wears a golden sword, is more strongly

characterised by his silver bow. Lunar mythology is ignored; nor is the

ready metaphor of the ‘silver moon’ to be found in Homeric verse. The

‘apparent queen’ of the nocturnal sky does not there, as elsewhere in

poetry and folk-lore, ‘throw her silver mantle o’er the dark.’ The

metallic sheen, on the other hand, of water rippling in sunshine,

produces its due effect in the generation of epithets; rivers being

habitually called ‘silver-eddying,’ and Thetis, the Undine of the Iliad,

wearing a specific badge as ‘silver-footed.’

For the concrete purposes of actual decoration, the metal was in

constant Homeric demand. Heré’s chariot and the car of Rhesus shone with

its delicate radiance; the chair of Penelope was spirally inwrought with

silver and ivory; the greaves of Paris were silver clasped, and the

sheath of his sword silver-studded; a silver hilt adorned the weapon of

Achilles, and the strings of his lyre were attached to a silver

yoke.[325] Of silver, too, was the tool-chest of Hephæstus; the guests

of Circe ate off silver tables; the guests of Menelaus, if particularly

favoured, might have bathed in silver tubs, two of which were presented

to him in Egypt; and from golden ewers water was poured into silver

basins for the ablutions before meals in every establishment of some

pretension. The fittings shared the splendours of the furniture in

Odyssean palaces. In the great hall of Alcinous, the door-posts and

lintel were of silver, and golden and silver hounds, fashioned by

Hephæstus, kept watch beside its golden gates. And the courts of

Menelaus were resplendent with gold, bronze, silver, and electrum.

Footnote 325:

_Iliad_, i. 219; ix. 187; Buchholz, _Homerische Realien_, Bd. i. Abth.

ii. p. 316.

The term ‘electrum,’ however, is a somewhat ambiguous one. In classical

Greek, it denotes two perfectly distinct substances, one metallic, the

other of organic origin—the latter, indeed, chiefly; the word came to be

applied almost exclusively to _amber_. Or it may be that two primarily

distinct words coalesced with time into one. Lepsius has urged the

probability that the name of the metal was of the masculine form

_elektros_, while amber was designated by the neuter _elektron_.[326]

Nor is it unlikely that these words had separate genealogies, the first

being derived from an Aryan root signifying ‘to shine,’ the second from

a Semitic name for resin. Phœnician inscriptions may eventually throw

light upon a point which must otherwise remain unsettled, by acquainting

us with the Phœnician mode of designating amber.

Footnote 326:

_Les Métaux dans les Inscriptions Égyptiennes_, p. 60.

The metallic electrum was an alloy of gold with about twenty per cent.

of silver. It occurs naturally, but was produced artificially as well,

especially in Egypt, where _asem_, as it was called, came into favour

long before any of the pyramids were built. It was in the Nile valley

thought fit for goddesses’ wear, its pale radiance suggesting feminine

refinement; and stores of it were laid up in the treasures of all the

early kings. The first Lydian coinage was of electrum; many of the

utensils and ornaments discovered at Hissarlik and Mycenæ prove to be

similarly composed; and electrum continued in favour down to a

particularly late date in the Græco-Scythic settlements on the Black

Sea. It made one of its few historical appearances in the ‘white gold’

offered by Crœsus at Delphi;[327] and there are two instances of its

epical employment. The ground of the Hesiodic Shield of Hercules was

inlaid, the walls of the banqueting-hall of Menelaus were overlaid, with

gold, electrum, and ivory. Although, in two other passages of the

Odyssey, the same word undoubtedly designates amber, it is safe to

affirm that here, where mural incrustations are in question, a metallic

substance, none other than the immemorial _asem_ of Egypt, should be

understood. Egyptian analogies, as Lepsius many years ago pointed out,

strongly support this supposition, above all where Egyptian associations

are so marked as in the Odyssean description of the Spartan court.

Electrum is unknown in the Iliad. The word occurs only in the form

_elektor_, signifying ‘the beaming sun.’

Footnote 327:

Herodotus, i. 50.

The third Homeric metal, and the most important of all, is _chalkos_.

But what does _chalkos_ mean? Copper or bronze? The question is not one

to be answered off-hand or categorically. It has been long and learnedly

debated; and admits, perhaps, of no decision more absolute than the

cautious arbitrament of Sir Roger de Coverley.

No help towards clearing up the point in dispute has been derived from

etymological inquiries. The word _chalkos_ is without Aryan equivalents,

and can best be explained by means of the Semitic _hhalaq_, signifying

‘metal worked with a hammer.’[328] Its primitive meaning, thus left

conjectural, was most probably ‘copper.’ For, from all parts of Europe,

evidence has gradually accumulated that the transition from the use of

stone to the use of bronze was through a ‘copper age,’ which, though

perhaps of short duration, has left relics impossible to be ignored.

Indications are even forthcoming among the prehistoric ‘finds’ at

Hissarlik, of the tentative processes by which copper was improved into

bronze.[329] The lower strata of ruins on the site of ancient Troy

contained articles and implements of approximately pure copper; nearer

the surface, a sensible ingredient of tin was added, augmented, here and

there, to the normal proportion for bronze of about twelve per cent. At

Mycenæ, domestic vessels were fabricated of copper, weapons and

ornamental objects of bronze; and a copper saw, dug from beneath the

lavas of Santorin, gives corroborative evidence of the early Greek use

of the unalloyed metal.

Footnote 328:

Lenormant, _Antiquités de la Troade_, p. 11.

Footnote 329:

_Ib._ p. 10.

_Chalkos_, then, must, to begin with, have denoted copper, and indeed it

partially preserves that sense in the Homeric poems. The cargo, for

example, taken on board at Temesé, in Cyprus, by the Taphian king

Mentes,[330] must have been of pure copper, the distinctively ‘Cyprian’

metal. The port of Temesé, afterwards Tamassos, be it observed, was a

Phœnician establishment, and bore a Phœnician name denoting

‘smelting-house,’ both instructive circumstances as regards the agency

by which metallic supplies were transmitted westward.[331] Again, when

Achilles enumerated with gold and ‘grey iron,’ red _chalkos_ as forming

part of his wealth,[332] he could have meant nothing but unadulterated

copper. The colour-adjective does not recur, but its employment this

once strongly supports the inference that the unwrought _chalkos_,

frequently spoken of as stored for future use or barter, was without

sensible admixture of tin.

Footnote 330:

_Odyssey_, i. 184.

Footnote 331:

Schrader and Jevons, _op. cit._ p. 196; Buchholz, _Homer. Real._ Bd.

i. Abth. ii. p. 326.

Footnote 332:

_Iliad_, ix. 365.

This inference, however, cannot reasonably be carried further. Homeric

armour was altogether of _chalkos_, and it would be absurd to suppose

that the ‘well-greaved Greeks’ went into action copper-clad. This on two

grounds. In the first place, archæological research has proved to

demonstration that bronze was fully and freely available in the late

Mycenæan age, when Homer, there is good reason to believe, flourished.

Articles composed of it must have been continually before his eyes and

within his grasp. Unless he deliberately elected, which is

inconceivable, to exclude from his poems all mention of a material of

primary importance to the known arts, his _chalkos_ was a term

sufficiently comprehensive to embrace _both_ bronze and copper. In the

second place, pure copper could not have played the part assigned to it.

Its inadequacy as a material for weapons or armour should promptly have

led to its rejection. Assuredly it could neither have sustained, nor

been the means of inflicting, the heavy blows and buffets exchanged by

the heroes of the Trojan War. The mere fact of the shattering of

Menelaus’s sword against the helmet of Paris[333] is conclusive as to

its having been made of a less yielding substance than copper;[334] and

the hardening process, by sudden cooling, imagined with the view to

removing the difficulty, has been pronounced, on the authority of

experts, impracticable.[335] The rigidity and occasional brittleness of

the Homeric _chalkos_ was imparted to it, we may be quite sure, by the

tin mixed with it.

Footnote 333:

_Iliad_, iii. 363.

Footnote 334:

Riedenauer, _Handwerk und Handwerker_, p. 103.

Footnote 335:

Blümner, _Technologie_, Bd. iv. p. 51.

Moreover, it is incredible that the Homeric Greeks, although acquainted

with iron, had no share in the bronze-culture flourishing, then and

previously, along the eastern shores of the Mediterranean. The

persistence, anywhere in that region, of so late, and so extraordinarily

developed a copper age, would indeed be a glaring anomaly. Already,[336]

in the third millennium B.C., bronze tools were used in Egypt; and under

the name _zabar_, whence the Arabic _zifr_, bronze was fabricated by

Sumero-Accadian metallurgists at the very outset of Mesopotamian

civilisation.[337] It was, in fact, probably from Mesopotamia that

knowledge of the art and its attendant advantages was carried westward

by Sidonian traffickers. Customers, then, who, like the Achæans,

procured from them plentiful supplies of copper, and a smaller quantity

of tin, could not long have remained ignorant of the vast superiority of

their alloyed over their separate condition. The conclusion is

inevitable that _chalkos_, like the corresponding Hebrew term

_nechosheth_, and the Egyptian _chomt_, was a word of some elasticity of

meaning, designating ordinarily bronze, but occasionally copper. The

translation, it need hardly be said, of any of the three by the English

_brass_ involves a gross error. Copper was not systematically alloyed

with zinc until about the second century B.C.[338]

Footnote 336:

Perrot et Chipiez, _Histoire de l’Art_, t. i. p. 829; Beck (_Gesch.

des Eisens_, p. 79) considers, however, that no Egyptian bronzes yet

analysed go back beyond the eighteenth dynasty, about 1700 B.C.

Footnote 337:

Lenormant, _Trans. Soc. Bibl, Archæology_, vol. vi. p. 344.

Footnote 338:

Blümner, _Technologie_, Bd. iv. p. 199.

But the bronze industry of old must have been seriously hampered in its

growth and spread by the scarcity of tin. This metal is of most

restricted distribution. The reservoirs of it held by the earth are few

and far apart. The two principal, in Cornwall and the Malaccan peninsula

respectively, are ‘wide as the poles asunder.’ Yet its discovery goes

back to a hoar antiquity, and its prehistoric use was extensive and

continuous. This wide dispersion of so scarce an article gives cogent

proof of unexpectedly early intercourse between remote populations, and

strikingly illustrates the effectiveness of those gradual processes of

primitive trade by which desirable commodities permeated continents, and

reached the least accessible markets.

The earliest historical source of tin was in the Cassiterides, or

‘tin-islands’ of Britain; and there can be no doubt, geographical

mystifications notwithstanding, that the tin thence derived came,

directly or indirectly, from Cornwall. Not improbably, the staple of the

Phœnician tin-trade was in the Isle of Wight, which accordingly became

the representative tin-island.[339] But this is questionable. What is

certain is, that the metal was transported overland to the Gulf of Lyons

long before the Phœnicians passed the Pillars of Hercules, and was

available, much earlier still, in Egypt and Assyria. The Cornish was

not, then, the first source of supply to be opened, nor was the

Malaccan. Tin was, in fact, an article of export from Alexandria to

India down to the beginning of the Christian era. The modern discovery,

however, of tin-mines in Khorassan, the ancient Drangiana, irresistibly

suggests that the primitive bronze-workers derived the less plentiful

material of their industry from the Paropamisus, and tends to confirm

the Turanian lineage imputed to them by Lenormant.[340]

Footnote 339:

Blümner, _Technologie_, Bd. iv. p. 86.

Footnote 340:

Von Baer, _Archiv für Anthropologie_, Bd. ix. p. 266; Blümner,

_Technologie_, Bd. iv. p. 84.

The Homeric name for tin, _kassiteros_, is at any rate clearly of

Oriental origin. The Greeks adopted it from the Phœnicians; the

Phœnicians _may_, it is thought, have picked it up from Accadian

bronze-smiths along the shores of the Persian Gulf. It survives in the

Arabic _kasdîr_, and under the form _kastîra_ made its way into

Sanskrit, on the occasion of Alexander’s invasion of the Punjâb. Pure

tin ranked with Homer almost as a precious metal. Its scarcity gave it

prestige; but he had evidently very little acquaintance with its

qualities. As Helbig remarks,[341] difficulties of interpretation arise

wherever _kassiteros_ is brought on the scene. A good deal of critical

discomfort, for instance, has been created by the statement that greaves

of tin were included in the warlike outfit supplied to Achilles from

Olympus. And bewilderment is heightened later on by the defensive power

they are made to exhibit in the hardest trials of actual battle. In

point of fact, they would have been as ineffective as papier-maché

against the thrust of Agenor’s spear; and their clattering would

scarcely have produced the awe-inspiring effect ascribed to it in the

following passage.

Footnote 341:

_Das Homerische Epos_, p. 285.

He [Agenor] said, and hurled his sharp spear with weighty hand,

and smote him [Achilles] on the leg beneath the knee, nor missed

his mark, and the greave of new-wrought tin rang terribly on

him; but the bronze bounded back from him it smote, nor pierced

him, for the god’s gift drave it back.[342]

Footnote 342:

_Iliad_, xxi. 591-94; cf. Blümner, _Technologie_, Bd. iv. p. 53.

Elsewhere in the Iliad, tin is employed ornamentally, as it was on the

pottery of the ancient pile-dwellers of Savoy.[343] But the poet is much

more sparing of it than he is of either gold or silver. Even his

imaginary stores appear to be strictly limited. ‘Relucent tin,’ however,

bordered the breastplate presented by Achilles to Eumelus as a

consolation-prize in the Patroclean games; the chariot of Diomed was

‘overlaid with gold and tin’;[344] the cuirass of Agamemnon was inlaid

with parallel stripes, and the buckler of Agamemnon decorated with

bosses of tin.

Footnote 343:

Dawkins, _Early Man in Britain_, p. 402.

Footnote 344:

_Iliad_, xxiii. 503.

The metal was also turned to account by Hephæstus for the purpose of

adding to the effect and variety of his delineations on the Shield of

Achilles. But we get no hint as to how it came into Achæan hands; no

rich man’s treasure contains it; and it drops completely out of sight in

the Odyssey.

Tin corrodes so readily that its extreme archæological rarity is not

surprising. None has been found, either at Mycenæ or in any part of the

stratified débris at Hissarlik.[345] Lead, on the other hand, has been

disinterred from all the Trojan cities, and was in use at Mycenæ, both

pure, and alloyed with silver. Among the objects brought to light there

was a leaden figure of Aphrodite, doubtless an idol,[346] and a vessel

in stag-shape composed of silver mixed with half its weight of

lead.[347] The latter substance is unmentioned in the Odyssey, but is

twice familiarly alluded to in the Iliad. Its cheapness and commonness

can be gathered from the circumstance incidentally disclosed, that poor

fishermen attached pieces of it as weights to their lines.[348] Its

quality of softness comes in to illustrate the ease with which the spear

of Iphidamas was turned by the silver in the belt of Agamemnon.[349]

Footnote 345:

Schliemann, _Troy_, pp. 31, 162.

Footnote 346:

Schuchhardt and Sellers, _op. cit._ p. 67.

Footnote 347:

Schliemann, _Mycenæ_, p. 257.

Footnote 348:

_Iliad_, xxiv. 80.

Footnote 349:

_Ib._ xi. 237.

Tin and lead made part of the booty taken in the land of Midian by the

Israelites, as well as of the Asiatic tribute paid to early Egyptian

conquerors. But the lead disposed of by the Achæans of the Iliad was

most likely brought by the Phœnicians from southern Spain; and the

surmise is plausible that the Homeric word, _molubdos_—lead—-otherwise

isolated and unexplained, may have been transferred, by the same agency,

from the perishing Iberian to the vigorous Greek tongue.[350]

Footnote 350:

Schrader, _Prehistoric Antiquities_, p. 217.

The Greek name for iron, _sideros_, is equally destitute of known

affinities. It has, indeed, sometimes been deemed cognate with the Latin

_sidus_, a star, on the ground that meteoric, or star-sent iron was the

earliest form of the metal made available for human purposes; but modern

philologists do not see their way to admitting the connexion. The

coincidence is impressive, yet may, none the less, be wholly misleading.

The Homeric poems testify to everyday experience of the powers and

faculties of iron. In the Iliad, knives are made of it, and rustic

implements of all sorts; iron-tipped arrows are sped from tough bows;

iron axes perform the rough work of the forest and farm-yard. The

Odyssean functions of the metal cover a still wider range. The iron age,

just beginning in the first Epic, has pretty well made good its footing

in the second. Thus, Beloch[351] has pointed out that, while _chalkos_

is mentioned 279, _sideros_ only 23 times in the Iliad, the proportion

has become, in the Odyssey, 80 to 29; and his detailed analysis

partially supports the conclusion that iron comes most prominently into

view in the latest portions of both poems. Yet no amount of skill in

critical carving can divide off a section of either in which ignorance

of the metal prevails. The differences are only in degrees of

acquaintanceship.

Footnote 351:

_Rivista di Filologia_, t. ii. p. 55.

The diversity in this respect between the Odyssey and Iliad can be

perceived at a glance by contrasting the weapons Odysseus left behind

him at Ithaca with those he wielded before Troy. The first set were of

iron, probably of steel, the existence of which is implied in the

practice of tempering by immersion in cold water, referred to in

connexion with the feat of plunging a hot stake into the vast orbit of

the Cyclops’ solitary eye.

And from the burning eye-ball the fierce steam

Singed all his brows, and the deep roots of sight

Crackled with fire. As when in the cold stream

Some smith the axe untempered, fiery white,

Dips hissing; for thence comes the iron’s might;

So did his eye hiss, and he roared again.[352]

Footnote 352:

_Odyssey_, ix. 391-95 (Worsley’s trans.).

Iron or steel has even reached, in the Odyssey, the stage of proverbial

familiarity as the material for arms. _Sideros_ stands for sword in a

maxim which may be translated ‘Cold steel masters the man,’[353]

signifying that when weapons are at hand, bloodshed is not far off. In

the Iliad, on the contrary, swords and spears are invariably of bronze;

and the commentators’ _caveat_ marks the lines presenting the

iron-headed arrow of Pandarus, and the iron mace of Areithöus. The

passage, too, is not exempt from their suspicions, in which Achilles

offers, as prizes in the Funeral Games, a ‘massy clod’ of

freshly-smelted iron, and two sets of iron axe-heads.

Footnote 353:

_Ib._ xvi. 294.

The scanty use made of _sideros_ in the compounding of Homeric

epithets,[354] no less than its total neglect in the formation of proper

names, is a further argument for the comparatively late introduction of

the metal. More especially when the plentifulness of derivatives from

_chalkos_ is taken into consideration. Nevertheless, a good deal of

allowance has to be made, in this matter, for what may be called

ethnical caprice. So the Teutons excluded copper from among the elements

of their local and personal appellations, while admitting gold and iron;

those of the Slavs were coined from gold, silver, and iron; the Celts

excluding from employment for the purpose all the metals except

iron.[355] More decisive is the designation of a smith as _chalkeus_,

irrespective of the particular metal wrought by him, showing that the

term had been fixed when neither gold nor iron, but only copper or

bronze, was welded in Achæan forges. _Nam prior æris fuit quam ferri

cognitus usus._

Footnote 354:

Beloch, _loc. cit._ p. 50.

Footnote 355:

Schrader and Jevons, _op. cit._ p. 194.

Iron, copper, and gold served as the Homeric media of exchange.

Definitions of value, however, are always by head of oxen. The golden

armour of Glaucus, for instance, was worth one hundred, the bronze

equipment of Diomed, inconsiderately taken in exchange by the chivalrous

Lycian, no more than nine oxen,[356] and the figures may be considered

to represent the proportionate value of those two metals. Iron probably

occupied an intermediate position. It must, however, have been much

cheaper in Ithaca than in the Troad. For, since the Taphians are said to

have conveyed it in ships to Cyprus, where they bartered it for copper,

it was evidently mined and smelted in notable quantities on the mainland

of Epirus.

Footnote 356:

_Iliad_, vi. 235.

Iron has no decorative function in the Homeric Poems. It contributes

nothing to the polymetallic splendours of the palaces of Menelaus and

Alcinous, of the Shield of Achilles, or of the Breastplate of Agamemnon.

Except where it furnishes an axletree for the chariot of Heré, it is

never employed in purposeful combination with any other substance.

Esteem, rather than admiration, seems, in fact, to be considered its

due. Its colour is described, usually as grey, sometimes as violet; and

the distinction may possibly, as has been supposed,[357] mark the

observed difference between the hoary appearance of newly fractured

iron, and the bluish gleam of steel blades. Nevertheless, an arbitrary

element in Homeric tints has often to be admitted. Iron is, however,

chiefly characterised in the Iliad and Odyssey—and with indisputable

justice—as ‘hard to work.’ It demands, indeed, far more strenuous

treatment than its ancient rival, copper; and the difficulties connected

with its production and working long retarded the prevalence of its use.

Metallurgy advanced but slowly to the point of being dominated by its

influence.

Footnote 357:

Buchholz, _Homer. Realien_, Bd. i. Abth. ii. p. 335.

This was probably first reached in Mesopotamia. Some Chaldean graves

have been found to contain immense quantities of iron, of the best

quality, and wrought with the finest skill.[358] One, opened by Place at

Khorsabad, was a veritable magazine of chains and implements, still

recognisable, though of course partly devoured by rust. They dated from

about the eighth century B.C.; but the metal had been in some degree

available for ages previously. In Egypt, although _men_ (iron) may have

been known under the early Memphite dynasties, the nature of the

hieroglyph employed to denote it proves that copper had the precedence.

Utensils of iron were enumerated among the spoils of Thothmes III., in

the seventeenth century, B.C.;[359] _barzel_ has a place in the Books of

Moses, and was wrought at Tyre in the days of king Hiram, and no doubt

indefinitely earlier. The Latin _ferrum_, indeed (equivalent to the

Semitic _barezum_) testifies, it is held, to the Phœnician introduction

of the metal to Italy in the twelfth century, B.C.[360]

Footnote 358:

Perrot et Chipiez, _Hist. de l’Art dans l’Antiquité_, t. ii. p. 720.

Footnote 359:

Lepsius, _Les Métaux dans les Inscriptions Égyptiennes_, p. _missing

page_ See this transcriber note.

Footnote 360:

Taylor, _Origin of the Aryans_, p. 145.

Its still earlier diffusion through Greece is only, then, what might

have been expected: and the complete acquaintance with it manifested in

the Homeric poems conveys, in itself, no presumption of lateness in

their origin. But there are archæological difficulties. Prehistoric iron

is unaccountably scarce in the neighbourhood of the Ægean. True, it is

of a perishable nature; but where not even a ferruginous stain survives,

it is difficult to believe that objects made out of iron once existed.

Until lately, iron was believed to be entirely absent from the ruins

both at Hissarlik and Mycenæ, as well as from those of Orchomenos and

Tiryns. But in 1890, Dr. Schliemann, in clearing the foundations of a

building on the Trojan Pergamus, came upon two lumps of the missing

substance; and some finger-rings composed of it are among the trophies

of the recent excavations carried on in the lower city of Mycenæ, under

the auspices of the Greek Archæological Society.[361] But the metal was

then evidently very rare, although the ‘bee-hive tombs,’ where it was

discovered, belong to a later stage of Mycenæan history than the

‘shaft-graves’ of the citadel. Still, the gap previously supposed to

divide, at this point, the Homeric from the Mycenæan world, has to a

certain extent been bridged; and other discrepancies may, in like

manner, be qualified, if not removed, by further research.

Footnote 361:

Schuchhardt, _op. cit._ pp. 332, 296.

The metals chiefly employed in Homeric verse to typify abstract

qualities are bronze and iron. The Shakespearian use of ‘golden’ to

convey delightfulness of almost any kind, as in the expressions

‘_golden_ cadence of poesy,’ ‘a _golden_ mind,’ ‘_golden_ joys,’

‘_golden_ sleep,’ and so on, is paralleled only by the Homeric ‘_golden_

Aphrodite.’ Lead does not exemplify, with the Greek poet, heaviness and

sloth, nor silver the gentle ripple of sweet sounds. But death, as ‘a

sleep of bronze,’ comes before us in all its unrelenting sternness;

Stentor has a ‘voice of bronze;’ a ‘memory of bronze’ was needed for

exceptional feats of recitation; and the ‘iron noise’ of battle went up

to a ‘bronzen sky’ during the struggle ensuing upon the fall of

Patroclus. In the Odyssey, the sky is alternately of bronze and of iron,

the same idea of stability—of a ‘brave, o’erhanging firmament’ being

conveyed by both epithets.[362] Moreover, iron is there the recognised

symbol of pitilessness, strength of mind, and self-command. Odysseus

listens, masked in an ‘aspect of iron,’ while Penelope, strangely

touched by his still unrecognised presence, recites the weary story of

her sorrows. A heart _steeled_—as we should say—against pity was said to

be ‘of iron,’ as was that of Achilles against Hector in the days of his

‘iron indignation’ at the slaying of his loved comrade; and silence and

secrecy, even in a woman, were represented by the rigidity of that

unbending metal. Such metaphors occur, it is true, more frequently in

the Odyssey than in the Iliad; but the conception upon which they are

founded is present throughout the whole sphere of Homeric thought. There

are, nevertheless, as we have seen, clearly definable differences, in

the matter of metallic acquisitions, between the two great Epics. The

Iliad knows six, while the Odyssey refers only to four of these

substances, tin and lead not chancing to be noticed in its cantos; and

iron, in their record, has made a considerable advance upon its Iliadic

status. This is unquestionably a circumstance to be taken into account

in attempting to deal with the Homeric problem.

Footnote 362:

Hayman’s _Odyssey_, vol. i. p. 63.

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Familiar Studies in Homer · 第 9 / 11 章