A Phrygian tomb with a link to King Midas?

Last winter, a tomb was found inside an 8-meter-high and 60-meter-wide tumulus near Gordion, not too far from the famous tomb King Midas built for his father, Gordias (see: Gordion, a name with a resonance). 

[Picture from Turkiye Today, AA Photo]

Archaeologists suspect this burial site has links to the Phrygian royal family. A tumulus listed as T26 has yielded a wooden burial chamber closely resembling the structure inside the Midas Tumulus. It contained human remains, possibly a member of the dynasty of King Midas. 

Over one hundred grave goods were exposed, including bronze and iron cauldrons, tripods, and incense burners not unlike those retrieved from the Midas Tumulus.  Despite the chamber having been crushed over the millennia under layers of stone and soil, a bronze jug covered with linen (a rare find by itself) helped to date the site to the 8th century BC. 

It has been established that this tomb clearly has a link to Phrygian Royalty. 

Saving documents and books in antiquity

Nowadays, saving our documents and information on our computers is very obvious. Before the digital era, we relied on typewriters and printers to distribute our pamphlets, advertisements, letters, and books. 

It is hard to imagine that in antiquity nothing of the kind existed, but then the needs were entirely different. Public information, laws, decrees, and other important notices were inscribed on stone slabs or posted on walls in conspicuous places throughout the city, and eventually shared with other cities.  

Exchanging documents and letters over longer distances, as during Alexander’s campaigns, required writing on papyrus, a lightweight material that could be easily transported. His correspondence with Antipater, Olympias, Aristotle, Sisygambis, governors, and generals all over his ever-growing empire required an active exchange of news and information.

Eumenes and Callisthenes, serving as Alexander’s secretaries, must have been very busy and very organized. We tend to forget that they also kept copies of Alexander’s correspondence, official documents, and perhaps private letters as well. This becomes apparent when Eumenes’ tent went up in flames after a conflict that arose as Nearchus was preparing the fleet to sail the Southern Sea. 

Alexander had exhausted his own treasury and had to borrow money from his friends, including Eumenes, to finance Nearchus’ expedition. His secretary was to contribute 300 talents, but being stingy, he gave only 100 talents. Alexander did not accept Eumenes’ excuse that it was not without difficulty and decided to set his friend’s tent on fire. He expected Eumenes to rush his money out, and thus admit he had been lying. The plan went wrong, and the tent burned down entirely, leaving a clump of smelted gold and silver worth one thousand talents. In the process, Alexander’s archives were reduced to ashes. It is Plutarch who tells us that Alexander asked several governors and generals to send Eumenes copies of the papers that had been destroyed. This proves that Alexander did indeed keep a record of his correspondence! 

We so often read of papers and books that have only partially survived or are only known second-hand or not at all, except for the title. This situation is inherent to the mindset of the time and to the degradation of the natural support used (papyrus). 

Papyrus is a vegetal product and a very practical writing support, but it is also fragile. It has been calculated that papyrus documents had a lifespan of a maximum of one hundred years. This may have suited the needs at the time, but the chances of having them still around two thousand years later are very slim. 

Chances of survival were greater if there were many copies of a text, like, for instance, for theater plays. Yet, professional writers were expensive, and the costs were borne by the author. In Roman times, wealthy citizens could afford to have certain scrolls copied for their own use, but they would hardly survive after the Fall of the Roman Empire. 

Under exceptional conditions, some scrolls or bits of papyrus, however, reached us. The most telling example is the scrolls that survived the fire in Herculaneum after the volcanic eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 AD. Only recently have we been able to decipher their content without having to unroll the brittle carbonized scrolls (see: Reading the papyrus scrolls from Herculaneum). 

Another situation developed in Egypt. The garbage dump in Oxyrhynchus that served as fuel to the local population in the 19^th century appeared to contain a huge amount of hitherto unknown papyrus texts ranging from the Ptolemaic era to the Muslim conquests in the 7^th century AD. The papyri consist of private letters and public documents such as a variety of official correspondence, theater plays, records, sales, wills, and inventories. The deciphering of the papyri is ongoing, as only a handful of scholars are capable of recognizing where the bit of papyrus text belongs. 

When parchment was introduced in the 2^nd century BC, documents stood a better chance of survival, although even animal skins had their limits. However, parchment was extremely expensive to make. 

With the passage of time, interest and taste evolved and changed. Treatises, studies, analyses, and even books and poems went out of fashion and vanished altogether. 

As the writing supports were decaying, it is not surprising that documenting Alexander’s life is a nearly impossible task, despite the second-hand recordings by Arrian, Diodorus, Curtius, and Plutarch, who could still access some original documents (see: Eyewitness accounts of Alexander’s life).

[Top picture Derveni papyrus 340 BC, Thessaloniki Museum.
Bottom picture from Archaeology News, Digs & Discoveries] 

Another case of restoration vs. reconstruction

The streets of the ancient city of Perge have been disfigured by so-called restorations! Last year, I wrote extensively about this problem (see: Restoration or reconstruction?), giving different examples. So, nothing new, except the stubbornness of those know-it-alls. 

One of the greatest pleasures of visiting an ancient city is to enjoy what time has left for us to see. There is no need to embellish the site and certainly not to bury the antique pavement under a smooth new layer of stones. If visitors cannot accept Perge as it was unearthed, they had better stay home. Nobody in their right mind will build a comfortable road to the top of the Mont Blanc, Mount St. Helens, or Mount Everest. Why expect our protected ancient cities to be turned into something that was never there? 

The colonnaded street that runs through Perge is unique, with a canal at its center to serve as an aqueduct and refresh the city on hot summer days. The pavement of the sidewalk that covers the space between the columns and the shops is one of the rare such examples that have survived. 

The old stone slabs, witnessing centuries-old ruts and other scars of time, have been covered with new stones joined together with cement! Romans knew concrete as they practically invented it, but they never used it for their road constructions! 

History has been buried under new modern stone slabs. Today’s visitor will no longer see the genuine ancient street. The entire ‘feel’ of witnessing something precious and unique has been erased forever. 

The head of the Perge Excavation Project, Professor Sedef Cokay, defends her action by saying that the original stones had shifted due “to rain, natural factors, and foot traffic from visitors”. Some stones were dislocated or missing, so what? Many cities around the world have streets like these today, heavy traffic or not. 

Second prize is the argument that “time will restore the feel of the old road”. Tricking the visitors and tourists into believing they still walk on an authentic ancient road is a misrepresentation; it is not correct and, worse, it is not true!