This last omission is especially regrettable because the very conditions of battle (in this case, phalanx fighting) usually explain (that is, predate) the peculiar nature of weapons (e.g. the weight,
shape, and size of the hoplite panoply), seldom, I think, vice-versa. For example, it has long been generally recognized, and correctly so, that the later, steady reduction in the hoplite's arms and armor followed new attitudes and strategies in infantry fighting. By the fifth century, the use of the composite corselet and pilos, the loss of thigh, arm, and shoulder guards, and even the occasional omission of greaves, all illustrated a greater desire for a lighter warrior, more suitable for the challenges of ever increasing mobility and fluidity present on the rapidly changing battlefield.3 While scholars thus agree here that the nature of infantry fighting dictates the choice and style of offensive and defensive personal equipment—in this instance, the elimination or reduction of items in the panoply—strangely they do not allow for this same phenomenon in reverse chronological order: the preference (well before 700–650 BC) for massing shock troops in close formation led to demands by combatants for new, heavier equipment.4 In other words, there seems always to be a symbiotic relationship between ancient Greek tactics and armament; usually the former determines the latter.5 Consequently, it is surely time to complete this historical picture of Greek warfare by admitting that a prior preference for phalanx-like tactics caused a natural transformation in equipment toward suitably heavy Greek arms and armor, just as later trends at the end of the fifth century to modify heavy infantry fighting once more resulted in changes back again toward lighter equipment.
I shall suggest therefore that the adoption of the hoplite shield and spear-butt, to narrow the focus upon only two examples, were representative of the response of technology to a preexisting practice throughout Greece to fight in massed array. Obviously, then, many current theories concerning the introduction of hoplite weapons and the phalanx into Greece are probably mistaken. Those who see no real, intrinsic connection between tactics and equipment are perhaps overly cautious; those who do, but who postulate the abrupt development of the phalanx in response to these new designs in equipment, have reversed the natural evolutionary process—discernible often throughout history—and have put the proverbial cart before the horse. Before proceeding to a discussion of the unique advantages of the hoplite shield and butt-spike to contemporary, phalanx warfare (and thus their corresponding unsuitability for individual combat of the early Dark Ages), it will be best to review briefly these two standard schools of thought on the hoplite reform.
Most agree that many components of Greek armament—helmet,
body armor, greaves, round shield, and thrusting-spear—were known in some form or another to the earlier Mycenaean and Dark Age Greeks, and also to particular Eastern and European peoples.6 Controversy, though, arises surrounding the exact sequence and nature of events which led to the alteration, sudden or otherwise, between 725 and 675 BC, of these earlier designs into a new, codified, heavy set of bronze and iron arms and armor (double-grip, concave, shield, Corinthian helmet, bell-corselet, pliable, laceless greaves, double-pointed spear, short sword)—the so-called 'hoplite panoply' and hence a relationship to the tactics of the phalanx.
Currently the more influential hypothesis (the 'gradual change' to the phalanx school) correctly stresses that the introduction of such 'hoplite' equipment was piecemeal, a slow twenty-five-year or even longer process. Thus, the birth of the phalanx, in this view, need not be simultaneous nor necessarily interdependent; no intrinsic connection must exist between the two phenomena, separated as they were by many decades.7 To support this thesis, it is usually pointed out that archaeological finds prove the presence of many items of hoplite equipment in the last quarter of the eighth century BC, but there is no corresponding pictorial evidence on vases or references in literature to (what this school would call 'true') phalanxes until much later, perhaps not until 650 BC at the earliest. On the other hand, the 'sudden change' to the phalanx thesis usually concentrates on the shield, arguing that the adoption (around 700 BC) of the unique double-grip, the porpax and antilabe, immediately necessitated an abrupt transformation in the very manner of fighting, with all the well-known social and political ramifications.8
The former school, then, sees gradual changes in weaponry, a phalanx after or around 650 BC, and no accompanying wider social revolution; the latter envision a brilliant breakthrough in technology, followed very quickly in or near 700 BC by fresh phalanx tactics, all indicative of an undeniable military surge forward of a new potent, land-owning middle class. Both schools, remember, postulate that new tactics, either around 700 or 650 BC, followed the adoption of novel equipment.
The economic, political, and social implications of this so called 'hoplite reform' need not be discussed again here.9 But a few considerations, mostly military, arise which question the validity of both these abrupt and gradual theses and thus of the entire notion itself of a revolution in tactics. First, because chronology is absolutely crucial to the two hypotheses, although in diametrically opposed
ways, any doubts about the evidence in dating the introduction of the phalanx must be taken very seriously. Van Wees, for example, recently concluded: 'the evidence for either 700 or 650 BC is very thin indeed. In fact, it boils down to three Corinthian vase-paintings and Tyrtaeus' exhortation to "stay together" in battle.'10 The significance of his point surely is that there simply is not enough proof to determine whether or not the phalanx existed earlier, though unrecorded (or even undetected by us moderns) in the few contemporary genres available at the time. Second, it has long been argued that the numerous references in Homer's Iliad to mass fighting are historical and thus must reflect phalanx tactics of some type before the adoption of the hoplite panoply.11 Most likely an earlier, less rigid style of massed attack (e.g. without standard depth and clear-cut, uniform files) was already commonplace in the eighth century BC. Such tactics obviously could exist apart from hoplite equipment, or as Salmon, in another context, more eloquently put it:
The phalanx was not yet known in its later form; but early phalanx warfare might well have taken a slightly different form without being different in nature. A phalanx has two essential features: its cohesion and its relatively large size; both can be achieved without following the later canonical pattern closely.
(Salmon 1977:90)
This is especially understandable, and, in fact, provable, when we realize that there are plenty of references in Greek and Persian history where armies mass in column and fight as 'hoplites' without what is usually termed the hoplite panoply.12 Pritchett, who recently reexamined the entire question in detail, in many ways confirmed Latacz's earlier, carefully argued conclusions about the entire nature of Homeric fighting: 'There is no literary evidence for a view which has gained wide currency that there was a change in tactics in the early seventh century from pre-hoplite warfare to hoplite warfare. A technical progress in arms is not synonymous with a new battle formation.' (War 4.49). This is not to say that some particular offensive and defensive weapons (i.e. the hoplite panoply) were not better suited to massed fighting. Indeed, I believe Pritchett may not have gone far enough: a technical progress in arms is more than merely 'not synonymous with a new battle formation,' but rather in this case surely it is conceptually a result of battle formation. For example, if it can be shown that particular elements of the panoply were difficult and expensive to fabricate, and yet also disadvantageous
for fluid fighting and individual combat, why, then, would duelists pay for these novel designs that were no better (and probably a great deal worse) than their current lighter, less expensive brands? Instead, the hoplite panoply offered new advantages to phalanx warfare alone. Thus it must be seen as a specific invention aimed at improving on (and perhaps codifying) the preexisting conditions of massed warfare—evidence, then, of a technical response to a precise need, a 'better mousetrap' to meet the particular challenges of contemporary battle
.
THE RESPONSE OF TECHNOLOGY: THE 'BELLY' OF THE HOPLITE SHIELD AND THE SPEAR-BUTT
The weight and clumsiness of the bell-corselet and Corinthian helmet were proverbial and obviously reduced the mobility and quickness of the wearer. Both severely limited endurance and rapidly brought on fatigue. Accordingly, it is usually acknowledged that such protection was suited primarily to the relatively brief collision of mass combat, where pushing and shoving in the midst of the 'sea of spears' required full cover for the body, rather than unfettered movement and quick agility.13 Yet, have scholars ever granted the next logical step: the presence of both the breastplate and Corinthian helmet seems prima facie one piece of evidence for the existence of phalanx tactics, where men would want such vital protection, unconcerned with the drawbacks which heavy equipment could entail in individual combat characteristic of an earlier age? Examination of the configuration and efficacy of the hoplite shield and spear-butt reveals that they must have been likewise designed for the peculiar demands of contemporary battle, battle that was fought at very close quarters mainly between massed bodies of shock troops. Now much has been written about the hoplite shield, but oddly discussion has centered exclusively on one point, the suitability of the double-grip shield for phalanx tactics. For example, scholars have rightly pointed out that the employment of the porpax and antilabe curtails the mobility of the individual combatant, offers less cover for his right side, and none at all for his back—all in exchange for an enormous increase in frontal protection. The shield-bearer deliberately assumes vulnerability in every direction save directly ahead.
Many critics answer that the double-grip shield could be equally employed in single combat among loosely grouped individuals. They are, of course, correct in some sense, but they fail to see the logical extension of such an argument, that any 'shield,' of almost any size or
shape, from a circle to an enormous rectangle, could on occasion be valuable for self-protection. Is not the real question one of degree: why should such ingenuity (and considerable expense) be invested in a particular design that was so poorly suited to combat between isolated individuals?14 Consider, for example, the radical concavity of the hoplite shield, a point which is all too often forgotten, but which on examination, like the double-grip, also argues for the notion of preexisting phalanx tactics.15 Perhaps since nearly all wood cores are lost, and thus we possess only the flat, thin outer metal blazons, or because of the tendency of many early vase painters to depict their warriors frontally or without perspective, the unusual bowl-shape of the shield is often deemphasized and unacknowledged, yet it was considerable. Circular shields are known to have existed both before and after the appearance of the hoplite shield; but why are all such Mycenaean, early Dark Age, and most later Macedonian models, conspicuously flat or nearly so? The answer must be that concavity, on balance, offered few real advantages either to individual fighters or to those who hung their shield from the neck. The extensive 'sides' awkwardly kept the surface away from the wearer's body: not only must the warrior hold its weight up, but 'out' as well, which required greater muscular strength.16 Moreover, this lip of considerable size also restricted the angles of deflection: it inevitably first bumped into the corselet when the shield was turned either side-to-side or upward and downward. The construction, too, involved in creating a concave shape was far more intricate than the simple skills needed for flat designs. Even the additional protection which a curved surface offers (iron enters diagonally and must penetrate more wood; air space between the body and shield negates the effects of blows which just pierce the surface) apparently was of little concern to warriors both prior to and after the era of phalanx battle. Why again, one wonders, did this oddly concave, round shape accompany the novel double-grip around 700 BC?
For those who desired to fight in massed array, holding a spear in one hand, shield in the other, concavity did offer one enormous advantage quite apart from consideration of improved armor. Because the lip of the hoplite shield jutted out at nearly a 90 degree angle, its entire weight could rest on the shoulder—a frequent enough scene in both vase-painting and occasionally described in literature.17 This allowed a shield of much greater size and hence weight than previous models—specifically, a diameter of nearly 3 ft (almost a metre) for the new demands of pushing and frontal protection. While the
double-grip allowed the shield to be worn on one arm, that aided the hand, but ironically also increased the burden of the wearer, concentrating over 15 lbs (6.8 kg) on a single limb, without the chance to change arms occasionally as had been possible with earlier, single-grip shields. Concavity, however, solved the dilemma. In conjunction with the double-grip, it allowed the hoplite warrior a real respite at frequent intervals. To rest a shield stationary on the shoulder in individual combat was suicidal, and, within the later Macedonian phalanx, superfluous, given the neck strap and its smaller size, but under the peculiar conditions of the hoplite phalanx such an opportunity to save the arm was practicable and, indeed, became an absolute necessity. The rear ranks (usually the majority of fighters from row four to the back) were not exposed to initial enemy spear thrusts and thus had no need to deflect and parry incoming blows; rather their job for minutes on end was simply to hold up their shields and spears continuously and to thrust their comrades on ahead.18 Therefore, hoplites could push on the backs of the men in front, while resting their arms until their own turn in the killing zone, when it then would become necessary to hold the shield out with the arm away from the body and deflect attack. That way their left arms were fresh until they met the enemy. Thus the double-grip saved the hand, but concavity saved the arm as well. Sometimes, too, there must have been so much pressure that fighters, once they reached the killing-zone, never had the opportunity to raise and extend their shields at all. Here the shield's enormous size and radical concavity once more offered dramatic advantages: the wearer was nearly 'absorbed' and became a human battering-ram, with 'both the chest and shoulder in the belly of the hollow shield' (Tyrt. 11.24).
This same need to relieve the weight of the hoplite shield by resting it upon the shoulder must also account for its very shape. Quite simply, why was the hoplite shield round? Few scholars have addressed this simple question either, perhaps because the answer seemed to be self-evident or again due to the usual emphasis on the novelty of the double-grip. True, a circular shape offers a more economical usage of surface area, eliminating the four corners of a rectangle that bring little additional protection at the expense of increased weight. The torso and arms in movement also form a circular zone critical to the warrior and are naturally protected well by a design without 90 degree angles, which can at times obstruct vision and snag on another's equipment. Many suggest, too, that a circular shield is wielded with greater ease, offering an increased sense of
mobility; the shape constantly offers a nearly identical zone of critical protection, regardless of the particular angle in which it is deflected at any given moment. Finally, there is the undeniable force of tradition. Smaller, flat, single-grip round shields are known both in the Mycenaean and Dark Age periods and are occasionally portrayed by vase-painters of the time.19 It makes sense that at the end of the eighth century experimentation with the hand and shield grip was first applied to traditional circular designs.
All these factors are no doubt true, but remember in hoplite battle individual skill and mobility, at least until the rout, were less critical than maintenance of rank, generation of force forward, and, most importantly, wall-to-wall frontal protection of the densely packed occupants of the phalanx. In this crucial regard, the round shape of the hoplite shield was simply no advantage. For example, it failed to cover the entire body of the infantryman. Therefore, it endangered the safety of the entire formation, due to the vulnerability of the outermost, 'naked' file on the right. Also, a wall of round shields left vital areas of the front lines unprotected; 'triangles' of exposure appeared between shields at both top and bottom. Indeed, the whole notion of a ph
alanx advancing with 'locked shields' is technically incorrect: it is impossible to create a continuous solid joint between curved edges, no matter how much shields overlap. Consequently, the concern which prompted early hoplites to employ a round shield of greater size and novel grip could only have been the unique suitability of such a circular design to the accompanying crucial requirement for radical concavity.
Hoplites: The Classical Greek Battle Experience Page 10
