The Historians' History of the World 03

Pisistratus governed Athens, but he bore no sovereign title, on the strength of which to lay claim to unlimited supremacy. He had, in truth, grounded his rule on force; he retained in his service a standing army, which, dependent on him alone and uncontrolled by the vote of the citizens, could be all the more crushingly opposed to any attempt at a rising, since the greater part of the citizens were unarmed, the townsfolk diminished in number, and the public interest, from political circumstances, directed partly to rural economy, partly to the new town institutions. The order of the officers of state remained unaltered, only that one of them was always in the hands of a member of Pisistratus’ family, in which he managed to suppress every sign of disunion with great skill, so that to the people the ruling house appeared united in itself and animated by but one spirit. In this sense men spoke of the government of the Pisistratidæ, and could not refuse recognition to the manifold gifts which distinguished the house.

It was a wise counsel which the old state organisers gave the tyrants, that they should bestow on their rule as much as possible the character of ancient royalty, so that the usurping origin of their power might be forgotten. Thus Pisistratus did not, like the Cypselidæ and Orthagoridæ, desire to break with the past of the state, but rather to connect himself closely with the ancient and glorious history of the country, so that after all the evil which the party government of the nobility had brought on Attica, she might be restored the blessing of a united rule. Standing superior to the parties, as a relative to the ancient royal house, he believed himself especially chosen to accomplish this end. With this view, he lived on the citadel, near the altar of Zeus Herceios, the family hearth of the ancient princes of the country, watching over the turbulent citizens from the summit of the rock, which, before the building of the Propylæa, was still more inaccessible than afterwards. The very position of his dwelling must have drawn him into a close relation with the goddess of the citadel and her priesthood.

The public life of the Athenians was awakened and transformed in every direction. Athens became a new town within and without. With her new highways and military roads, her town squares, gymnasia, fountains and aqueducts, her new altars, temples and temple festivals, she stood out prominently from the crowd of Greek towns, and the Pisistratidæ neglected nothing which might contribute to lend her new importance by means of numerous alliances with the islands and shores of the Ægean Sea.

To this end, it was not enough that the Athenians ruled in Delos, Naxos, and at the Hellespont, but they must also appropriate to themselves the intellectual treasures of the further coasts where the Hellenic spirit showed itself at its best, and thus enrich their own life. For this purpose Solon had already introduced the Homeric rhapsodies into Athens, and ordained their public recitation at the festivals. Pisistratus joined in these efforts, with a full appreciation of the importance of the matter, though not with the disinterestedness of the Solonian love for art, but designedly, and for his own advantage. For he ministered at once to the fame of his ancestors and the splendour of his house.

These songs had hitherto been passed down by word of mouth, and the noblest abilities of the nation had been dedicated to the preservation of this national treasure in widely disseminated schools of bards. Nevertheless, even with the utmost power of memory, it was unavoidable that all kinds of confusion should be introduced into the tradition, that the original should be disfigured, what was authentic be lost, spurious matter creep in, and the whole, the most important collection possessed by the Hellenic people, fall to pieces. The danger became the more threatening, the higher rose the turbulence of the times, and the more the individual states deviated in special directions and the interests of modern times gained primary importance. It became, therefore, a state obligation to meet this danger, and to take in hand the task which individual ability had not succeeded in accomplishing; and the state was all the more concerned in the matter since the recital of the Homeric poems had been prescribed in the ordinances for the public festivals.