by Oswyn Murray
The consequences of colonization remain the same, in early Greece as now – for the areas colonized, economic prosperity, a degree of exploitation, and the diffusion of the dominant culture. For the homeland, prosperity again, and not only among the colonizing cities: Aegina never colonized, but the basis of her wealth was the resulting trade. The religion behind the colonists also benefited: the Delphi of Apollo the Leader became the richest and most important international sanctuary, and repository of the tithes of booty from victories colonial and home. Politically the influence was most perhaps from colony to mother city. The earliest certain evidence of the widespread existence of developed city institutions and a political self-consciousness about them is their transference abroad by official act of state: the whole process may have furthered such political awareness in the more backward areas of mainland Greece. And just as the American War of Independence demonstrated to the Old Regimes of Europe the political viability of republicanism, so the success of those who went out ‘on fair and equal terms’, to distribute the land and rule themselves without an aristocracy, lay behind the rapid collapse in the seventh century of aristocratic government at home. Something of the culture shock of these New World values can be seen in the frequent repetition by aristocratic poets of the awful fact that wealth counts more than birth in the modern world.
VIII
Warfare and the New Morality
WARFARE is a natural activity for man, and most societies are deeply affected by their need for military organization. The status of the warrior in early Greece, and his role in maintaining and justifying a complex of political institutions, ethical values and economic benefits, have already become clear. The hunger for metal and the importance of the metal trade were symptoms of an expanding military technology, which was in turn a crucial factor in giving the Greeks the military superiority needed for successful colonization. By the late eighth century the economic base for the manufacture of weapons, in terms of supply of raw materials and productive capacity and skills, was strong enough to sustain a military breakthrough, the creation of new mass armies of heavy-armed troops, who replaced the individual champions of the earlier period and became the most effective military force in the Mediterranean and middle east, dominating the area with little change of equipment or tactics for some five hundred years, until the Macedonian defeat by the more flexible Roman legionary formation at the battle of Cynoscephalae in 197 BC. The changes of the early seventh century in weapons, tactics and military personnel, in their turn brought changes even more far reaching in social morality and political systems.
The Greek city-state of the sixth century had often been reorganized so as to produce as large as possible a body of trained fighting men, who dominated the political life of the city. Political honours were arranged in accordance with property qualifications, and shared to some extent by all ‘those who bore arms’, that is the men who could afford to provide the armour of a heavy-armed soldier (hoplitēs); though this criterion could later seem restrictive, it was in fact a remarkably wide group, comprising all those independent peasant farmers who possessed even a moderate amount of land – in most states the upper third or more of the adult male free population. This class, producing a force of some three to eight thousand soldiers, dominated the political life of the leading states in various ways.
The developed hoplite army consisted of men armed with standard equipment: bronze greaves and corslet, a bronze helmet designed to give maximum protection compatible with forward vision, and a heavy convex circular wooden shield, held firmly by placing the forearm through a hoop at the centre and gripping a leather handgrip at the rim; the offensive weapons were a long heavy stabbing spear about one and a half times the height of the soldier, and a short stabbing sword for close combat. The poor visibility and mobility which resulted from this armour were compensated for by fighting in tight formation; the shield of each soldier covered a distance to his left at least equal to that in front of him, and so protected his left neighbour as much as himself. In his description of the battle of Mantinea between two hoplite armies in 418, Thucydides emphasizes the interdependence of this formation:
All armies are alike in this: they are pushed out towards the right wing on going into action, and both sides extend beyond the opposing left wing with their right, because fear makes each man shelter his unprotected side as much as possible under the shield of the man on his right, thinking that the closer the shields are locked together the better the protection. The man most responsible for this is the first man on the right wing, who is always trying to withdraw from the enemy his own unprotected body; and because of the same fear the others follow him.
(Thucydides 5.71)
The ranks of hoplites were arranged in depth, so as to combine maximum push with the need not to be outflanked: formations from four to eight ranks deep were normal. Order, discipline and a controlled courage were essential, for breaking ranks forward or back threatened the cohesion of the phalanx; this was ensured by training together, and by brigading according to locality, so that each man was known to his neighbour. For obvious reasons the hoplite formation was unsuitable for rough terrain, and battle was normally joined on level ground: the rigidity of military thinking is well demonstrated by the dominance of such an unsuitable style of fighting in a mountainous country made for light armed troops and guerilla tactics, which did not begin to emerge until the late fifth century.
The actual conflict consisted in a concerted pushing, leaning on the shield while stabbing above or below with spear or sword; as the warriors in the front ranks fell, they were trampled underfoot and their places were taken by those behind. Finally one side would break and run, often leaving their shields behind. In the absence of cavalry there was little pursuit, for it was difficult to run far without becoming so disorganized as to invite regrouping and counterattack from those in flight; such reversals of fortune were not uncommon. Most victorious armies therefore contented themselves with possessing the battlefield, stripping the slain, killing or holding for ransom or sale as slaves the wounded, burying their own dead, and setting up a trophy. The result was that massive casualties were rare, since only the front ranks were in danger; and flight, though it involved public disgrace, was easy.
It was a highly ritualized form of warfare, effective against far larger numbers of less well-armed troops because of its discipline and cohesion, but also brutal and dangerous when hoplite army met hoplite army. The commonest thrusts brought the most unpleasant wounds, overarm to the neck or under the shield to the groin:
For this is shameful, when an older man lies fallen in the front rank before the young men; his head is white already and his beard is grey as he breathes out his great heart in the dust, holding his bloody genitals in his dear hands.
(Tyrtaios Fragment 10, 21–5 = 7D)
Euripides puts the danger in a broader perspective when he makes Medea say, ‘I would rather stand three times behind a shield than give birth once’ (Medea 25of).
Ultimately this new style of fighting had a radical effect on Greek society, but it is not easy to see how the changes came about. Armour and tactics must have been at least to some extent interdependent, in that heavier armour tends to encourage closer, more static formations, which in their turn lead to hand-to-hand combat and the need for better defensive armour. But there has been considerable controversy about the precise nature of this relationship, and this has led to two theories about the dating of the change, one emphasizing gradual development, the other swift transition.
The history of Greek armour is certainly one of gradual change. The iron sword and spear had been known since the eleventh century; there is no very obvious break in their development during this period. The sword tended to become shorter and broader. Spears in the late Dark Age seem to have been primarily used for throwing, but there is no great difference in weight or size between the heavy war javelin, thrown with the help of a leather thong, and the new hoplite spear. Early representati
ons of hoplite arms often show two spears of the same or different sizes. Light spearheads have been found in late Geometric tombs, but so have heavy spearheads, in pairs or even threes. The Chigi vase on the cover of this book clearly shows hoplites marching into battle with two apparently identical spears, one held in the shield hand; some at least of them have loops for throwing; other representations make a slight difference in size between the warrior’s two spears. It would seem that the throwing spear need not necessarily be lighter than the hoplite spear, and that in the early stages of hoplite fighting two spears were often carried, one of which might be thrown or used as a reserve if the other broke; later the second spear was abandoned.
The bronze corslet hinged down one side, and fastened at the other and on the shoulders; it was carefully moulded to fit the wearer, and shaped outwards at the waist to give freedom of movement. The earliest example has been found in a warrior’s grave at Argos of about 725, together with a helmet with high metal crest and welded side pieces of a ‘pre-hoplite’ type; it is uncertain how much other hoplite-style armour there had originally been in the burial. But the early date of this find and the exceptional workmanship of the corslet suggest that this item must have been in existence for some time before the coming of the hoplites. Breastplates were not worn in the east because of their discomfort in hot conditions, but there was a long tradition of such armour in central Europe; and it is likely that the same routes which brought metal to Greece from the west also brought the breastplate, perhaps as early as 750. On the other hand greaves of hoplite type, self-gripping and covering the knees, have no obvious forerunners, and seem to have been invented in Greece somewhat later, during the seventh century.
The two most distinctive items of hoplite equipment are the helmet and the shield. Various earlier types of Greek helmet suggest that the original impetus came from the near east; the distinctive horsehair crest is also eastern, and both ideas may have come from the Assyrians, who reached the Mediterranean coast in the second half of the eighth century. The Assyrians also used a large round shield, supported in part by straps around the neck. The Greeks believed that the Carians in south-west Asia Minor had something to do with the development of the hoplite helmet and shield (Herodotus 1.171), and they certainly possessed hoplite troops by the mid seventh century; they could have been mediators between Assyria and Greece. But archaeological evidence suggests that for both helmet and shield the crucial development is Greek. The commonest hoplite form of helmet is the Corinthian; beaten from a single sheet of bronze to cover the whole head, apart from a T-shaped aperture for eyes and mouth, it shows considerable skill in metal working, and is quite unlike any earlier model. This type of helmet begins to appear on vases about 700; it is hard to believe that it can have been very popular before the coming of formation fíghting, if indeed it was not invented for that particular purpose. Hearing was virtually impossible, vision seriously limited except forwards, and the cumbersomeness and discomfort of the object (despite its inner leather cap) must have made it a very dubious asset except in close frontal fíghting.
The shield, the original weapon from which the hoplite took his name, was wooden with a bronze rim, and later a thin bronze covering; it was often decorated with a geometric or figured blazon, painted or of applied bronze. Its chief difference from previous shields was the unique double grip by forearm and hand; this meant that it could be much heavier and was more strongly held, and dictated its diameter as twice the forearm length. Some of its attributes will have seemed advantageous in any style of fighting, but others will not. The shield was held more firmly and closer to the body, in a grip more adapted to pushing than protecting; for it could be moved around less easily than older types of shield and deflect weapons less, and since it turned less on impact all blows became frontal rather than glancing; it guarded unnecessary waste space to the left of the warrior. All these factors make the new shield less attractive in open fighting despite its greater strength; they become positive advantages only in close formation. The earliest evidence for the introduction of the double grip shield rests on the argument that figured blazons demand a shield that can only be held in one position, unlike the older central grip shields which could be held at various angles. The earliest figured blazons on shields in vase paintings come from about 700; by 685 there are also representations of the inside of the shield which show clearly the double grip.
Some of these items of equipment, such as the offensive weapons and the corslet, were in use before the hoplite formation can have been developed, others are later. They came in gradually, and it is not until about 675 that the earliest representation of the full hoplite equipment occurs. But two innovations, the helmet and the shield, must surely have a closer connection with the coming of hoplite tactics: by about 700 some form of close fighting must have become common; or to put the other side, it is impossible that hoplite tactics could have developed fully before these two innovations, which alone gave adequate protection for such close style fighting. The end of the eighth century is therefore the earliest possible date for the invention of hoplite tactics.
A lower limit for the coming of these tactics can be derived from the representations of warriors on vases. In the first half of the seventh century there are numerous examples of soldiers fighting with semi-hoplite or full hoplite equipment, but they are not shown fighting in formation. This could of course be taken as evidence for a transitional period, but it is obvious that there are considerable problems in representing artistically the hoplite formation. In fact the first certain evidence for the formation comes from the efforts of one Corinthian painter of major stature, who offers not just the first but also the best representations. Three of his vases attempt different approaches. The earliest (the ‘Macmillan aryballos’, from which the painter derives his modern name) shows a series of overlapping hoplite duels between single opposed warriors, and one between pairs. This is still of course ambiguous, though the theme appears to be the defeat of the left-hand army by the right; the Macmillan painter’s next attempt is clearer: it shows three groups of warriors in mass formation, the first two marching against each other, the third already fighting. The final version is the Chigi vase on the cover of this book, the most successful portrayal of hoplite tactics which has survived. The main panel shows two hoplite armies marching in ranks against each other, while two soldiers are still arming on the far left. The left-hand army is kept in step by a flute-player, a practice which was later at least peculiar to the Spartan army. All three vases were painted around 650 or slightly earlier; they show a major artist grappling with a particular problem and attempting various solutions. This obsession might suggest that the tactics themselves were new, or it might be a sign of the difficulty of the problem: it is not possible to decide with an artist so original and self-critical as the Macmillan painter. But at least by 650 the hoplite phalanx was well enough established to be a painter’s problem.
The same conclusion emerges from dedications at two Spartan shrines, the sanctuaries of Menelaos and Artemis Orthia. About 650 there begins a series of cheap mass-produced lead figurines of hoplites, showing that by this date a large group of hoplites without great wealth was sufficiently self-confident and aware of its identity to have a prominent place in Spartan religious life. How long it had taken for this sense of identity to grow, and how advanced or backward Sparta may have been in relation to the rest of Greece, is unknown.
The archaeological evidence therefore suggests a relatively long drawn-out process in which from about 750 armour was becoming progressively heavier. The actual advent of the hoplite formation occurred between 700 and 650; I would myself emphasize the introduction of shield and helmet as providing the best indication of the change, and would therefore see the essential reform taking place early in the period. But there must have been some experimentation with weapons even after this, and anyone who has served in a modern army will know that equipment is never wholly standard.
The warrior poetry
of early Greece is the first type of poetry outside heroic epic to emerge as a genre with a specific set of attitudes and responses, which reflect both the increasing importance of warfare and its changing nature. It belongs to a world of warrior groups feasting together and preparing for battle: but whereas the Homeric bard instructs through narrative description of the deeds of heroes, this new poetry reflects a wider world less secure in its values, which requires moral instruction to preserve traditional virtues. The elements of continuity with the Homeric world are of course striking. The poetry is written in the elegiac metre into which the old epic vocabulary fits easily; it is a poetry of exhortation in time of crisis, calling on the present generation to fight as their ancestors fought of old; and it deliberately attempts to relate the new style of war to the heroic past by echoing and adapting epic language. For these reasons it often gives an old-fashioned or ambiguous picture of the changes that were taking place.