Laudator Temporis Acti

W. Kendrick Pritchett (1909-2007), Studies in Ancient Greek Topography, Part I (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1965), pp. 1-2:

Topography offers probably our best means of checking the accuracy of ancient authors. Fortunately for our purpose, records of battles played a major part in ancient histories. Checkpoints are numerous, and by diligent exploration it may be possible to determine whether or not they existed in antiquity. In turn, with further study we should be able to throw light on the historical accuracy of an ancient writer. Bias and lack of objectivity are two charges which are now commonly brought against the ancient historians, particularly Thucydides. There is a reason for this. Every successive generation judges previous civilization through its own eyes. The History of the Peloponnesian War would seem to condemn a regime which affords many parallels to modern democracies, or, at least, to the direction in which these seem to be moving. Within the past few years, both H.D. Westlake and A.G. Woodhead have charged Thucydides with a biased presentation of the fall of Amphipolis. Westlake has questioned "how far his [Thucydides'] own account of the episode [the fall of Amphipolis] is objective," and concludes, "it is not so objective as it appears to be."¹ Woodhead has written: "It [Thucydidean time-reckoning] cannot be founded, at any rate, on an appeal to Thucydidean 'objectivity', for whatever that may imply it is to be doubted whether Thucydides can be credited with it (see Mnemosyne 13 [1960] 289-317)."² When we turn to the Mnemosyne article, we find that Woodhead's case against Thucydidean objectivity rests in no small part on his interpretation of what he calls "Kleon's grasp of grand strategy" at Amphipolis. Woodhead in effect impugns Thucydidean objectivity by impugning the topography. Which is correct—Thucydides' or Woodhead's account of the battle? Can we apply a tangible test?

The least we can do is to determine whether the points of reference mentioned in Thucydides actually exist, and whether armies could have moved between them as he describes. A study of terrain thus comes to be a basic way of testing historical objectivity. The method used to discredit the ancient historians is invariably the same and may also be exemplified in this study by Woodhead. He asks the question (page 308) "What was Thucydides' source of information here?" His answer takes the form of two rhetorical questions. "A few prisoners, eager to blame their misfortunes on their dead general? Disgruntled hoplites, casting back in their memories nineteen or more years later?" Since in the classical period most sources were oral, and Herodotos himself, for example, tells us that he relied on ὄψις, γνώμη, and ἱστορία—research which rested not on written but on oral tradition—it is easy to imagine how an informant might mislead an historian, even assuming that the latter began his researches with a desire for objectivity. But if we open the door to such doubts, we can challenge any statement, invalidate any single sentence in an ancient historian or, indeed, reject all ancient history en masse.

My approach has been an attempt to find out whether the record of the historian, so far as we can judge from a study of topography, is accurate. The principle I have adopted is that the account in the ancient historian should be adjudged correct unless there is proof of error. A priori, it seems likely that a man of the capacity of Thucydides, for example, may have interrogated many carefully chosen persons representing different aides, and may have arrived at the truth. On the other hand, if he is writing history in a nonobjective way, as Woodhead charges, then this nonobjectivity should appear in the account of the battles as much as in other parts.

¹ Hermes 90 (1962), 276.

² Gnomon 35 (1963), 82.

Id., p. 3:

A study of the terrain is a sine qua non for an understanding of ancient military tactics. This is a fertile field for flights of imagination. Too much of this work has been done from the chimney-corner, and in general, the farther removed the investigator is from the site itself, the more dogmatic are apt to be his pronouncements.

Id., p. 4:

Another factor that enters into the picture is the actual present-day change in terrain. Explorations must be undertaken before the configuration of the land is drastically altered by the hand of modern man. A striking example is Marathon. Between my successive visits in 1960 and 1963, sections of the plain probably changed more than they had in 2,000 years. The banks of the riverbed known as the Charadra have been cut away. The area termed Brexisa has in part been filled in, and enclosed within the picket fence of a military reservation. Indeed, in July, 1963, about a third of the Marathon plain was out of bounds to the topographical investigator. The study I undertook here in 1955 and 1959 would now be impossible. To take another example: the Greek press has announced that the government is considering a project for the establishment of shipyards in the Bay of Navarino, to compete with the Skaramauga shipyards. Similarly with other parts of Greece, the expansion in population, the introduction of new industries, and the cultivation of broader areas, bring an immediacy to our investigations.

Travel in Greece has never been exactly safe or dull. In earlier days, travellers had to confront such hazards as brigands, bedbugs, and impassable roads. These have now disappeared from the land, but the uninhibited Greek driver has replaced the brigand; the shepherd dog poses a real threat to foot travelers. One shepherd told me that if the dogs do not attack strangers, they are not fed. Twice at Amphipolis, and once on Mount Kallidromos, I was turned back by savage beasts. One recalls the story, told in several ancient sources, that only a few miles from Amphipolis Euripides met his end, when he was attacked and killed by dogs in 406 B.C.