THE NATURE OF THE EVIDENCE

In attempting a history of the Mycenaean age we are still largely confined to the history of material culture, to the generalized story of the establishment of settlements, to their destructions and rebuildings, which are often dated only in terms of the successive styles of pottery used by the inhabitants. From the ruins of houses and palaces we can reconstruct their appearance when stone, brick, and timber were new; we can in patches see what fresco pictures brightened their walls. Fragments of carved ivory give hints of the adornment of wooden furniture long since burned or rotted into ashes and dust; some weapons, tools and vessels of metal survive, though most when outworn would have gone for scrap to the melting pot, unless laid underground with the dead; and though tombs may be robbed, we do sometimes, if rarely, find in them vessels or ornaments of gold or the more corruptible silver. We have, moreover, in various materials, these peoples’ own picture of themselves and their activities; we can, from their precious objects, their houses and fortifications and their monumental tombs, assess at least in degree their wealth and power, their pride and their fears, in this world and the next; we can trace from objects of commerce—or from such of them as are less perishable—how far they travelled and traded, what other cities of men they knew; to the extent that history is the account of ‘what it was like to be there then’, we can write their history.