We have now to consider briefly how far the use of fiction, i.e. of conscious, deliberate invention, was permitted in the composition of Greek heroic poetry. This question gave us considerable difficulty when we were discussing the Teutonic poems. It is assuredly not less difficult here. The higher artistic level of the Greek poems cannot but pre-dispose us in favour of the view that their use of fiction is of a more advanced type. This expectation is fully realised in the elaborate presentation of many of the scenes, whether the actors be human beings who may or may not have taken part in the events described, or divine beings whose mythical origin no one will dispute. In the s?stas?? t?? p?a??t?? the art of poetic invention is developed to a high degree of perfection.

The chief difference between our present problem and the one which we had to consider in Chapter VIII lies in the fact that here we are entirely without that contemporary historical evidence which enables us to recognise some characters or events in nearly all the Teutonic poems. The way lies open therefore for regarding the whole story of the siege of Troy as a product of fiction; and this is a view which many modern scholars have adopted. For an example we can scarcely do better than quote the words of the late Sir R. C. Jebb (Introduction to Homer, p. 147): "The tale of Troy, as we have it in Homer, is essentially a poetic creation; and the poet is the sole witness." The same scholar was prepared to grant that "some memorable capture of a town in the Troad had probably been made by Greek warriors"; but, he adds, "beyond this we cannot safely go." This attitude is doubtless perfectly correct from the historian's point of view. But if we approach the problem from the ethnologist's side we cannot rest satisfied with an attitude of scepticism owing to the absence of historical evidence. Our duty includes the question how far we are justified in admitting the use of fiction. The Iliad would still be a great monument of human genius even if all the characters and events in it could be proved to be historical. But if it is wholly, or almost wholly, a work of fiction we shall have to conclude that the Homeric poets had developed the inventive faculty to a degree which has scarcely been equalled even in our own days. That is a conclusion which we shall do well to adopt only after careful consideration, seeing that we are dealing with the earliest monument of European literature. Scepticism is required in this direction therefore just as much as in the other.

At the outset we are confronted by two considerations which amply justify this attitude. The first is the evidence of the Teutonic poems. Here, as we have seen, myth and folk-tale both play their parts, the latter often a very important part. But we have no proof that any one of the stories is a product of conscious fiction. Wherever we can put it to the test, the setting is found to be historical, at least in the earlier forms of the stories. In medieval poetry we meet with many fictitious stories of wars waged by imaginary kings of, let us say, Byzantium or Britain. But in poetry which is entirely free from scholastic influence, such as the old heroic poems or the poems of the Viking Age, we shall look in vain for trustworthy examples. The same remark is probably true of Slavonic and Cumbrian heroic poetry.

The other consideration is still more serious. It is the opinion of the ancient Greeks themselves. Here again we may quote Sir R. C. Jebb's work (p. 84): "They held that his events and his persons were, in the main, real.... Thucydides differs from Herodotus in bringing down the Homeric heroes more nearly to the level of common men. But the basis of fact in Homer is fully as real to Thucydides as to Herodotus." The current hypothesis assumes that both were deceived, and with them the universal consensus of educated Greek opinion. But is not this a strange assumption? Those who hold that the Homeric poems are wholly the work of one author may cherish the belief that this person was so gifted as to be able to perpetrate a hoax upon his countrymen which in their most enlightened days they never succeeded in detecting. But I do not see how any such idea can be reconciled with the theory of evolution. The story was invented, we must presume, by the first poet and elaborated by his successors. Were these latter persons cognisant of the deception? If not, we must regard their contributions as negligible; and consequently we are brought back virtually to the theory of single authorship. And yet no one will suggest that the poets of several generations were accomplices in such a deception. The only alternative then, which remains, is that the poets invented and elaborated a romance, which they did not intend to be taken seriously. How greatly then has the history of Greek thought been misunderstood! It appears now that the period between the ninth and the fifth centuries was characterised not by intellectual emancipation but by the growth of credulity.

In view of these considerations the burden of proof must be held to lie with those who hold that the story is fictitious. Until such proof is forthcoming it seems to me that the only reasonable course is to follow the opinion of the ancients, except in so far as we have good reason for believing that they were mistaken. The ancients not only accepted the siege of Troy as a historical fact; they were prepared also to point out the site of the city. The correctness of this identification was indeed disputed by Demetrios of Scepsis, a native antiquary of the second century, who fixed upon another site, some four miles away; while modern scholars until recently believed that both were wrong. This is why in the passage quoted above Sir R. C. Jebb used the expression "a city in the Troad." But about five or six years after the publication of his book the traditional site was fully vindicated by the excavations of Dr DÖrpfeld, which brought to light the remains of a fortress dating, approximately at least, from the period indicated by the story. It was made clear also that this fortress had been destroyed, presumably by enemies. That the destroyers were Greeks could not of course be proved by the excavations. But the evidence of the poems in this respect is confirmed by the fact that the district was inhabited by Greeks in later times[451].

It is held by many scholars that the story of the siege of Troy is a reflection of the Aeolic colonisation of the Asiatic coast. We have already discussed the principle underlying this theory and found no evidence in its favour. But it does not follow from this that the two events were unconnected. One of the most famous stories[452] recorded by Scandinavian tradition is that of the expedition to England which was undertaken by the sons of Lothbrok for the purpose of exacting vengeance for their father's death. Now we have an account of this invasion from a contemporary historical work (the Saxon Chronicle), which gives the names of two of the princes (Inwaer and Healfdene), as well as that of the Northumbrian king Aella against whom the expedition was directed. We know also that Lothbrok's sons were by no means contented with the overthrow of Aella; that on the contrary they ravaged the greater part of England. Long after they were all dead or departed the eastern half of the country remained Scandinavian territory. According to the Iliad Achilles did not confine his energies to Troy; he is said to have ravaged Lesbos and several places in the country round the Gulf of Adramyttion. Is there any valid reason for denying that the Greek occupation of these lands may have originated in such events? We need not suppose of course that the conquered lands were fully occupied at once. But the first settlers may well have secured enough to serve as a refuge for those of their countrymen who fled from the Thessalian invasion, probably no long time afterwards. A good parallel is furnished by the Scandinavian settlements in the British Isles, which served as a retreat for many Norwegians who refused to bow to the encroachments of Harold the Fair-haired.

The Greek settlements in this region were Aeolic, a fact due probably, as we have said, to the Thessalian invasion. But Achilles was an Achaean, and the same is true of most of the other chief heroes. The Iliad does not represent Troy as being attacked merely 'by Greeks,' but by an army gathered together from nearly all parts of Greece. This is one of the features in the story to which objection has been taken most generally. We may grant freely that no parallel for such an undertaking is to be found in historical times. Indeed, the objection itself contains a weak point here; for from all that we know of the earliest historical period it is scarcely credible that such an idea could have suggested itself, even in a work of fiction. On the other hand in the thirteenth and twelfth centuries the monuments of Rameses II, Merenptah and Rameses III give us information of expeditions which were on at least as large a scale and covered much greater distances. We have no reason for doubting that such an undertaking was possible also in the eleventh century.

But if the expedition itself is nothing incredible in such a period, what shall we say with regard to its motive? The reason assigned by the poem—that it was brought about by Paris' escapade—is one of those features which have been put aside by modern scholars as unworthy of consideration. This attitude is due partly to the application of modern political theories to a state of society in which they are quite out of place. With this question we shall have to deal in the following chapter. But it is due still more to the absurd hallucination that a story of abduction must have originated in the 'hypostasis' of natural phenomena. According to Scandinavian tradition the expedition of Lothbrok's sons was inspired by a purely personal motive—the desire to exact vengeance for their father's death. But in the Heroic Age itself we have from a strictly contemporary authority (cf. p. 97 f.) the story of the great expedition of the Angli against the Warni, which was caused by a breach of promise of marriage.

It appears then on examination that the central feature of the story, namely the destruction of Troy, rests upon fact, while the other main features gain in probability the more one takes into account the conditions of the age and the analogies furnished by similar stories elsewhere. These considerations tend to support the view that the employment of fiction is to be seen rather in the presentation than in the conception of the story. But the term 'presentation' here, just as in Chapter VIII, must be interpreted in a very liberal sense.

What has been said above applies of course properly only to the Iliad. With the Odyssey the case is quite otherwise. In the first place we have to note that the ancients themselves took a different view with regard to this poem—at all events that part of it which relates to the hero's wanderings. The credibility of the various incidents was frequently and warmly debated; but many of them were defended only by an allegorical interpretation. Then again the conditions are similar to those in which we find the most pronounced use of fiction in early Teutonic poetry. Sigemund is expressly said to have been alone when he attacked the dragon, and most of Beowulf's marvellous exploits are performed when he is either alone or with a single companion. The motif of the lonely wanderer in distant lands is not prominent in the remains of our poetry, but from what is said of Sigemund in Beow. 876 ff. we can scarcely doubt that it would have been utilised for the exercise of the inventive faculty.

Now we have seen (p. 258 ff.) that the hero's narrative in Od. IX-XII is evidently derived from an accumulation of folk-tales. Here the art of fiction is shown chiefly in the poet's adaptation of this material to his own purpose. But there are other parts of the poem—notably the preceding three books (VI-VIII)—which obviously require a different explanation. It is frequently assumed that the Phaeacians are wholly a creation of the poet's fancy. Without going so far as this[453] we may seriously doubt whether they were a Greek people and whether there was any foundation in history or tradition for the account given here—with a quite exceptional amount of detail—of their princes, their city and institutions. If this part of the story is to be regarded as fiction it is certainly a more elaborate type of fiction than anything which we meet with in the early heroic poetry of the Teutonic peoples. But the false stories told by Odysseus in the latter part of the poem at all events go far towards showing that such fiction was not beyond the power of Homeric poets.

According to our explanation the extensive use of fiction in the story of Odysseus is due to the fact that in this case the poet or poets had a free hand, whereas elsewhere, more particularly in the Iliad, they were bound down by tradition. It is not to be overlooked however that the Iliad itself contains many incidents which may similarly be regarded as products of invention—additions to the story which did not conflict with anything that had been 'handed down.' As a likely instance of this kind we may cite the Doloneia. But since we can seldom or never get beyond a hypothesis with such cases, it will be more profitable, I think, now to turn our attention to another question, namely whether the use of fiction also included the invention of characters—and if so to what extent.

In our consideration of the Teutonic stories we came to the conclusion that there was no really satisfactory evidence for such invention. In the Homeric poems the evidence is much stronger. We will first take the case of names which appear to have been coined with an obvious meaning. A good example occurs in Od. VIII 111 ff., where the Phaeacian athletes are enumerated:

Other Phaeacians have names of the same type, e.g. ?a?s?????, ?a?s???a, ?????, ???t?????, ???????, ???t?????. In such a case as this the poet can scarcely have intended to deceive his audience. Indeed the principle is clearly admitted in another passage (XXIV 305), where Odysseus in a false story describes himself as ???? ?fe?da?t?? ????p????da? ??a?t??. We need not doubt then that other names are constructed on the same plan, e.g. that of the minstrel, F???? ?e?p??d??, perhaps also those of the shipowner, ????? son of F??????, and Menelaos' pilot, F???t?? ???t???d??. Similar cases may be found also in the Iliad[454], e.g. (V 59 ff.) F??e???? ... ???t???? ???? ?????de?, ?? ?e?s?? ?p?stat? da?da?a p??ta te??e??, or the name of a Trojan herald (XVII 323 f.) ?e??fa?t? ?p?t?d?, probably also the spy ????? ???de?? ???? (X 314). This list of course makes no claim to be exhaustive. But on the whole it can hardly be said that the type is really common in either poem, except the section dealing with the Phaeacians.

It is far more difficult to form an opinion with regard to the origin of characters whose names bear no such obvious mark. Few probably would be inclined to doubt that the names of Helen's handmaidens (Od. IV 123 ff.) were coined by the poet But what shall we say with regard to the suitors of Penelope[455]? The argument may not be a sound one, but it is not easy to see under what conditions historical names could have been preserved in such a connection. And again, what about the numerous names which figure in the ??d???tas?a?? Even though many of the names do recur again and again, their number is surprising[456]. It is difficult to doubt that the poets gave free rein to their inventive faculties in such scenes.

But what limits are we to set to this process? If we regard the chief heroes themselves as products of fiction we shall be involved in much the same difficulties as if we interpreted the story as a whole in this way. In a sense indeed the difficulties will be increased; for it is scarcely conceivable that a heroic story should come into existence without heroes[457]. No one can reasonably doubt that the list of Phaeacian athletes is the invention of one man[458]. In the case of Penelope's suitors this is not so clear. Yet personally I cannot understand the Odyssey if it is not, in its present form, largely the work of an individual brain, however much it may have utilised and even incorporated older matter. This 'redactor' or 'author' or whatever he may be called may well have invented the names of most of the suitors; they are not essential to the story. But how can any such explanation be applied to the heroes of the siege of Troy? These were not obscure chieftains in a distant group of islands without external connections. Many of them are represented as rulers of what were once certainly the chief states in Greece, and they were universally recognised as historical persons from the earliest times of which we have any record. In some cases they were even honoured with worship, and distinguished families claimed to be descended from them. Mythical characters, such as Scyld or Dardanos, may come to be regarded as historical. But these are products of many minds rather than of one, and of reflection rather than imagination. Their personification is a gradual process, and even when it is accomplished they figure only in the background of heroic stories, without any definite individual characterisation. The hypothesis which we are now testing has no relation to such figures as these—for Agamemnon, Achilles and their companions are not eponymous heroes. If they are creations of one man's imagination we must ask how this person, however gifted he may have been, succeeded in passing off his romance as history. On the other hand if they were gradually 'evolved' by a succession of poets we must ask at what stage and by what process so great a misunderstanding of their real character originated.

It is a great assumption that every local record relating to the heroes of the Trojan War owes its origin, directly or indirectly, to the influence of Homeric poetry; and yet that is what is involved by the hypothesis under discussion. There is no doubt that heroic poetry can influence local tradition in an age given to antiquarian speculation; but where shall we find any parallel for such a result as this? Pausanias (II 16. 5) states that the tombs of Agamemnon and his household were to be seen at Mycenae. It is likely enough that in this case the local belief was derived ultimately from the poems, although it seems to have contained some unorthodox features. But in Pindar, Aeschylus and other early poets we find forms of the story which differ much more widely from the Homeric account. These authorities also give us a good deal of information regarding other members of the family, Pelops, Atreus and Orestes—persons who seem not to have figured prominently in any Homeric poems that we know of. Particularly we should notice that according to Pausanias (III 19. 5) the Spartans also possessed a tomb of Agamemnon (at Amyclai), and that in early times they appear to have claimed him as one of their own kings. To this we have already referred (p. 240). The problem as a whole is surely one which requires considerably more investigation than it has yet received. But I should be much surprised if such investigations, carried out in an impartial spirit, did not bring to light many traces of stories relating to the Heroic Age, which were independent of anything that we may fairly call 'Homeric' poetry.

Perhaps it may be said that we can safely claim a fictitious origin for some of the leading characters without committing ourselves to the view that all of them were sprung from this source. The case of Agamemnon, which we have mentioned above, is scarcely one of the most promising. We will now take what is generally regarded as the most certain case, namely that of Aias[459]. There are two heroes of this name, of whom one is a Locrian, while the other belongs to Salamis. The theory now most usually held is that one of the two—preferably the latter—is a fictitious character, derived from the other. This theory rests on the following arguments: (i) that the two heroes are often found together, (ii) that Salamis is only mentioned in two passages, (iii) that, apart from his brother Teucros, the connections of Aias of Salamis are themselves obviously fictitious. The distinctive characteristic of this Aias is his enormous shield; and this gave birth both to the name of his father ?e?a?? ('Strap'), and to that of his son, ????s???? ('Broad-shield'). The appropriateness of the latter name is evident enough; but it does not occur in the Homeric poems. The evidence seems to indicate that this person is a genealogical creation of much later times—possibly due to the misunderstanding of an epithet. On the other hand the force of the name ?e?a?? does not strike me as particularly obvious. Aias' distinguishing characteristic was not his shield-strap, but the shield itself. Several heroes, Agamemnon, Diomedes and others, are said to have shield-straps; indeed from Il. II 388 f. we may infer that they were commonly, if not generally, used. Moreover the word te?a?? does not necessarily mean 'shield-strap'; we find it used also, in several passages, for 'sword-strap.' Its original meaning appears to have been 'supporter'; and we have no reason for supposing that such a word was inadmissible as a proper name[460]. Again, the argument that Salamis is only mentioned twice loses its force when the general usage of the Iliad is taken into account. Except in three cases—due largely to certain stereotyped formulae—it is not customary to refer to the home or nationality of the Achaean leaders[461]. Even if the genuineness of Il. VII 199 be doubted, there can scarcely be any question that Aias was localised at Salamis by the time when the Homeric poems first obtained general currency in Greece; for the post-Homeric (or non-Homeric) genealogy of the Aiacidai and their connection with Aegina go back probably beyond the seventh century. There remains then only the fact that two friends and colleagues have the same name. That is doubtless a curious coincidence; but not more curious than many such cases which occur in real life. On the whole I cannot help thinking that the readiness with which this theory has been received is due to the prevalent enthusiasm for such hypotheses. When soberly considered the evidence in its favour is of the slightest.

In conclusion we must take account of another hypothesis, which seems to be particularly popular at present—namely that many characters have been attracted into the Trojan cycle from different quarters, some from other cycles of heroic poetry, and some from local tradition. Strictly speaking we have here to do with two different hypotheses; but they may conveniently be taken together. Both are credible enough under certain conditions. In the first place we must assume the existence of a nucleus of original matter sufficient to provide the 'attractive' force. Secondly, the poets' audience must not have such knowledge either of the original or the subsidiary stories as would check their readiness to allow the amalgamation. Thus no audience of the fifth century would have consented to see Heracles introduced into a drama dealing with Orestes. But medieval German poems do bring Dietrich von Bern into association both with Attila and Eormenric, although we know that the three heroes belonged originally to quite distinct stories. This parallel has frequently been urged in support of the contention that Agamemnon or Nestor or Idomeneus may once have belonged to separate stories before they were associated with Achilles or Aias the Locrian or whoever it was who was first connected with the siege of Troy.

In Chapter XI we discussed the supposed analogy between Homeric and medieval German poetry and came to the conclusion that it had no foundation. The roots of the latter doubtless go back to court-poetry. But for centuries it was preserved only by popular minstrels; and during this period it underwent not only a process of disintegration in regard to subject-matter, but also a complete change both in spirit and metrical form. Our discussion led us to conclude that there was no ground for supposing the Homeric poems to have passed through such a stage as this—that on the contrary they appear to have been preserved by court poets until they attained their final form. But heroic court-poetry is everywhere bound by convention. The poet must be a master of traditional lore as well as of form; but he must not be a revolutionary. He may borrow descriptions, incidents, probably also minor characters, from other stories and even from folk-tales—especially when he is dealing with the adventures of a solitary wanderer in unknown lands[462]. But, since his audience likewise consists of persons who are more or less trained in the same kind of lore, he will find considerable difficulty in transferring a well-known hero from one story to another—more difficulty indeed than in inventing the hero outright. He would probably have just about as much chance of success as a modern dramatist who wished to introduce Cromwell into a serious play dealing with Napoleon Bonaparte. We must have good evidence before we can believe that the court poets of ancient Greece were able to indulge in such flights of imagination.

But no such evidence appears to be forthcoming[463]. One of the cases most commonly cited is the fight of Tlepolemos and Sarpedon. This case rests partly on the fact that the two combatants are represented as coming from districts, both remote from Troy but not very distant from one another, and partly on the groundless assumption that opponents must be near neighbours. Unfortunately Sarpedon himself is killed by Patroclos, a hero from Phthiotis. To meet this difficulty we find a further hypothesis, which need not be discussed here. I do not say that it is impossible that Tlepolemos and Sarpedon have been taken from a different story. My view is that until it is supported by evidence[464] such a conjecture does not deserve serious consideration. The same remark applies to the case of Idomeneus which has likewise been cited in this connection. Indeed it is surely a fatal objection to this hypothesis as a whole that, with one exception[465], the heroes of the Iliad are persons who are known practically only in connection with the siege of Troy. The force of this objection may be appreciated by the fact that both poems contain many incidental allusions to heroes who are well known to us from other sources, as well as to persons of whom we know little or nothing at all. If the personnel of the Iliad has really grown up through a process of attraction how is it that Heracles, Iason, Peirithoos, Theseus, Minos and Adrastos have not been drawn into the net? Some of them certainly have sons or grandsons who figure in the Iliad; but it deserves to be remarked that, with the exception of Idomeneus, these are all persons of little importance. On the other hand the fathers of the principal heroes are themselves in no case—unless we count Tydeus—'heroes of the first rank.' Can any one seriously argue that such a result as this would be produced by an artificial scheme—a scheme, that is to say, in the framing of which poets had a free command of their material? On the contrary the only conclusion, I think, to which an unbiassed study of the evidence can lead, is that the poets never enjoyed such freedom; that the later poets were bound by the work of their predecessors, and these again by something which bears a suspicious resemblance to facts of real life.

In the course of this and the preceding chapters we have reviewed briefly a number of hypotheses which have been brought forward from time to time with the object of explaining the origin of the characters and events treated in the Homeric poems. These hypotheses may be grouped summarily under four headings: (i) nature-myths, (ii) tribal heroes, (iii) fiction, (iv) transference. In dealing with the first group we have restricted ourselves to the consideration of two cases which appear as yet not to have fallen into the same discredit as the rest. Our conclusion however is that they rest on equally unsubstantial foundations. The second group is more popular just now, and this we have examined at length. We find that—apart from some genealogical names—this group of hypotheses rests upon a number of assumptions, some of which are incapable of proof, while others are demonstrably incorrect. The third group has a much better case. We find that the use of fiction appears to be shown not only in the presentation of the stories (as in Teutonic poetry) but also in the invention of minor characters. The extent to which it is used is a problem which requires further investigation. The last remark applies also to the fourth group. In principle it is only reasonable to expect that both characters and incidents may have been transferred from one story to another. But the instances which have been suggested are tainted with the 'tribal hero' hypothesis and the evidence on which they rest is altogether inconclusive. Lastly, we have noted that, if our view of the history of Homeric poetry is correct, the use of both fiction (invention) and 'transference' must have been confined within certain limits[466].

It may perhaps be said that these conclusions show an inadequate recognition of the results attained by modern investigations in the history of Greek heroic tradition. But we may fairly ask how many definite results have been attained in this field—results, I mean, which command the unanimous approval, or anything like the unanimous approval, of present-day scholars. It is a common opinion, at least in this country, that the general effect has been rather to obscure than to solve the real problems presented by the poems. If we put aside the opinions of more conservative scholars we may indeed find a common element—namely the belief that the attitude of the ancients themselves to stories of the Heroic Age was mistaken. But this belief cannot be regarded as a result established by the investigations; it is rather their starting point.

By 'the ancients' I do not mean merely the poets and mythographers of antiquity. It is admitted that "the basis of fact in Homer is fully as real to Thucydides as to Herodotus." Now the work undertaken by Thucydides was not a history of the Trojan War; but he had evidently considered that story. Apparently it did not occur to him to doubt that the war had taken place, or even that the expedition had been commanded by Agamemnon, king of Mycenae. What he had reflected on was the question whether the expedition was really on so large a scale as is stated in the Iliad; and the result to which his reflections brought him was that there was not a sufficient case for scepticism (?????? ?p?ste?? e????). We are at liberty to form a different opinion. Yet Thucydides was a man no whit inferior intellectually to the best of modern scholars. Moreover he had the advantage of being a native; and he was separated from the Heroic Age by some six centuries, whereas we are separated from it by nearly thirty. There can be little doubt that many sources of information were open to him—traditions, poems and even monuments—which are entirely lost to us. It seems to me therefore that before we disregard the opinions of such persons we shall do well to consider carefully in what respects we are better qualified for forming a judgment.

So far as I can see we have the advantage in two respects only. Firstly, there is the evidence of the Egyptian monuments and of that prehistoric Aegean civilisation which has been revealed to us by the discoveries of Schliemann, DÖrpfeld, Evans, Halbherr and many others. It is at least improbable that Thucydides was as well acquainted with either of these sources of information as we are. If he had seen Dr DÖrpfeld's excavations at Troy he might perhaps have modified his opinion about the numbers of the Achaean army, although he had noted the dimensions of Mycenae. But that after all is a trifle. Can it be said that the general effect of the new evidence has been to discredit the tradition? The records of Rameses II and his successors have definitely disposed of the idea that Agamemnon's expedition was anything impossible, while the discoveries in Crete have shown once for all that 'early' does not mean the same thing as 'primitive.' It is a significant fact therefore that in many investigations of the type we are discussing little or no use has been made of this new evidence. The evidence on which they rely is evidence which was at least as accessible to Thucydides as it is to us.

Secondly, it is in our power, probably far more than it was in that of Thucydides and his contemporaries, to compare the Homeric stories with others of the same type. It is here that our great advantage lies. But can it be said that this advantage has been turned to account by modern writers? Many works contain no reference to any poetry other than Greek and Latin—the latter of which, owing to its dependence upon Greek, is of little value for our purpose. Many others, it is true, have used the evidence of Teutonic heroic poetry. But only by taking a single poem belonging to the latest stratum, without reference to its history or its connections in the poetry of other Teutonic peoples, and by using precarious hypotheses as to the origin of the story as a foundation for similar hypotheses in relation to the Homeric stories. The earlier strata of Teutonic heroic poetry have been ignored as much as the heroic poetry of other European peoples.

I have no doubt that much which is obscure in Homeric poetry and tradition may be illuminated by a historical study of heroic poetry elsewhere—not merely Teutonic but also Celtic, Slavonic and even non-European. For the story of the Iliad in particular I suspect that a fairly close parallel—perhaps the closest of all—is to be found in those Servian poems which deal with the battle of Kossovo[467]. My object however in this book is to bring to light the relations of Greek and Teutonic heroic poetry—or rather to make a start in that direction, for the object is by no means one which can be accomplished in a single attempt. So much however may be said with confidence even now: all that we know, apart from hypotheses, with regard to the origin of the Teutonic heroic stories corresponds to the views held by Thucydides and his contemporaries.

With the affinities between Homeric poetry and the old Teutonic court-poetry we shall have to deal in the next chapter. I do not think that any true analogy to the medieval German poems is to be found in Greek literature; but I have ventured to suggest (p. 239 f.) that the poems of the Edda have something in common with those of Stesichoros and his followers. Apart from the poems however, Greek literature preserves numerous records of the Heroic Age, frequently, though not always, in the form of local traditions. Some of these are doubtless due to the influence of Homeric or 'Stesichoric' poetry; but we have no right to assume that this is universally true. There are a number which appear to be of popular origin, whether they come from poems of Stage III (cf. p. 94 ff.) or from poems which were 'popular' from the beginning or from stories which never were clothed in poetic form.

As an example we will take the story of Minos. So far as I know, there is no evidence that this hero figured prominently in any early poems of which we have record, though incidental allusions to him occur both in the Iliad and the Odyssey. Yet there is no doubt that the Greeks regarded him as one of the very greatest figures of the far past. The most striking tradition recorded of him is that he possessed a powerful fleet, which enabled him to subdue the islands, to put down piracy and thus to secure safety for navigation. This thalassocracy is mentioned both by Herodotus (I 171, III 122) and Thucydides (I 4, 8); and the former adds that no such attempt to command the sea was made again until the time of Polycrates of Samos, in the latter part of the sixth century. Later writers relate the famous story of the Minotaur; they represent Minos also as the founder of cities, including Cnossos and Phaistos, the great prehistoric palaces lately excavated, and as a legislator or judge. In what is commonly regarded as one of the latest additions to the Odyssey (XI 568 ff.) we find him giving judgments among the dead.

It is obvious enough that the story of Minos contains many mythical features. But do these features constitute the original kernel of the story, or are they accretions, due to folk-tales or popular belief? We need not enter here into the story of the Minotaur, upon which Dr Evans' discoveries have thrown such a curious light. But there are other features in the story which may be illustrated from medieval beliefs regarding Dietrich von Bern. Sometimes we find this hero represented as the leader of the 'Wild Hunt,' the army of ghosts[468]—a position elsewhere occupied by Wodan or other mythical beings. In medieval German homilies and other religious works he is credited with having been the founder of several famous Roman buildings, such as the Amphitheatre at Verona and the Castle of St Angelo at Rome[469]. In such beliefs we have a close enough parallel to the traditions of Minos. There is no reason for supposing that the Greeks were better acquainted with the prehistoric Cretans than the Germans were with the ancient Romans. In both cases doubtless it seemed natural to attribute the foundation of venerable buildings to a prominent hero of their own race[470] But Dietrich von Bern (Theodric, king of the Ostrogoths) was not originally a mythical being.

Nor need the tradition of Minos' thalassocracy be regarded as altogether incredible. We have seen that in the reigns of Merenptah and Rameses III Egypt and the neighbouring lands were invaded by large forces from the Aegean or even more remote regions. After the time of Rameses III we hear little of these peoples, though it is clear that they had formed settlements on the coast of Palestine. From the following centuries we have apparently only one detailed piece of information relating to the Mediterranean, namely the story of a certain Unuamen (or Wenamon), an official belonging to the temple of Amen at Thebes, who had been sent to the Lebanon to buy timber[471]. From this story we may infer with some probability that the eastern end of the Mediterranean was policed or controlled by the fleets of some Aegean nation[472]. The time to which the story refers is either the reign of Herhor or that of his predecessor Rameses XII[473]—about the beginning of the eleventh century. That seems to be approximately the time indicated for Minos by Greek tradition; for according to Il. XIII 451 f. and Od. XIX 178 ff. he was the grandfather of Idomeneus. It is scarcely impossible that an ambitious Greek prince of this age may have been animated by the desire of regaining the supremacy of the ancient Cretans, just as Theodric was inspired by the idea of restoring under Gothic rule the power formerly held by the Roman emperors.