So, you may have noticed it’s been quite some time since my last Book Report. That’s because I’m working on the challenge to read a book set more than 5000 miles from your location, and it’s been slow going for various reasons. The book is The Story of Egypt, by Joann Fletcher, and I’ll talk about the book at length when I finish it. (Obviously.) But right now I want to quote you a passage I read about a week ago:
Having learned that the prince of Joppa wished to see ‘the great mace of King Tuthmosis’, Djehuti [Overseer of the Northern Foreign Lands] had invited him to his camp outside the town [which Djehuti had been besieging for some time], where he suddenly pulled out the mace, shouting ‘Look at me, Prince of Joppa! This is the mace of King Tuthmosis the fierce lion, son of Sekhmet, and Amen his father has given him strength to wield it’. Then he used it himself, to ‘smite the forehead of the Prince of Joppa, and he fell stretched out before him’. Djehuti then put the rest of his plan into action. He hid 200 of his soldiers, Ali-Baba-style, inside baskets, which he sent into Joppa on donkey-back with the claim that they contained tribute. The folk of Joppa, clearly as gullible as their prince, took in the baskets, from which the Egyptian troops emerged to capture their town, anticipating the Greek tale of the Trojan Horse by several centuries. [187-7]
Tuthmosis III reigned from 1479 BC to 1425 BC, so that didn’t just pre-date the story of the Trojan Horse: it pre-dated any historical conflict that might have given rise to the myth of the Trojan War in the first place! Now, I am, personally, disposed to think that the myth was, in fact, loosely inspired by a Mycenaean invasion of Troy that was in some way particularly noteworthy (if only for being the last major military undertaking before the end of the palatial era), which has always made me wonder where such a fanciful finale came from.
Despite the occasional divine intervention, most of the events of the Trojan War are very down-to-earth and realistic. There are no monsters, and even most of the divine interventions took on the form of things we would now call “acts of God” like plagues and floods. Well, that and wrapping people in a mist to spirit them away from danger, but…point is, the gods are much more subtle during the Trojan War than they are in the other myths. But that just makes the giant wooden horse story all the weirder.
I’ve often (well, maybe not often, but certainly many times) sat around pondering the idea of just where the myth of the Trojan Horse comes from. I came up with all sorts of possible explanations, from Odysseus-like clinging to the underside of horses to outright lying by returning warriors. I think a gate marked with a horse has been a common device to explain away the myth, too. (That one I’m pretty sure isn’t one of mine, though. I don’t usually think that way.)
But so now let’s look at this Egyptian story from about two hundred years before the Trojan War’s likely date. (Possibly three hundred years, depending on when you think it took place. The traditional date of 1154 seems a bit late to me, personally.) Unfortunately, the book doesn’t tell us where modern scholars learned the story from; the notes direct one to a 1925 article in a journal my university library doesn’t have access to, so I can’t find out the source, but the title of the article does specifically refer to it as a “legend,” so it probably is something that was passed down through oral culture for centuries, rather than something painted on the walls of Djehuti’s tomb. (Okay, just looked around online, and it seems to come from a papyrus. So it’s unclear just how well the story had spread in antiquity, but it sounds like the papyrus was a literary text so probably it had spread pretty well.)
First things first, is it possible this could have happened? Well, actually, yes, I think it is. It doesn’t seem improbable to me that a prince going to the enemy camp after a long siege could result in a peace treaty, and in the case of such treaties, the trading of goods wouldn’t be uncommon, particularly if the siege had been cutting off the flow of food into the city. Take out the word “tribute” and replace it with “trade” or “provisions” and it becomes quite believable. This would have been in the days of guest-friendship all throughout the Mediterranean region, so a peace treaty would surely have included quite an exchange of goods, so it’s not inconceivable that the people of Joppa would have let those baskets into the town. 200 warriors taking a fortified city by themselves doesn’t seem terribly probable, but they could have opened the gates to let in the rest of the army.
So, let’s just suppose that it did happen as told in the quote above. It probably would have become quite the famous maneuver, at least for a while. And the book has mentioned repeatedly that the Egyptians not only traded with the Mycenaeans (and one pharaoh had claimed Mycenaean Greece as tributary to him), but also that they hired Mycenaean mercenaries to serve in their armies. That being the case, it would be very likely that the story of the siege of Joppa would spread to Mycenaean Greece.
Of course, that doesn’t tell us much. The real question is how and when that affected the Trojan War. Did it have an impact on the real conflict between Mycenaean Greeks and the people of Troy; did they attempt to emulate the tactic? Or was it just brought in when the war was being mythologized, to give it a spectacular climax, perhaps because the actual war ended in a lackluster treaty in which the city never fell? And either way, where did the giant wooden horse idea come from?
That last part is the one I can’t provide a decent answer for, of course.
It does seem like Troy was strongly associated with horses: many of the epithets applied to Hector and the other Trojan warriors involved horse-taming and related skills, and of course there were the fabulous horses given to the King of Troy by Zeus in apology for carrying off his son Ganymede. I don’t recall reading anything about any particularly significant horse-related objects being found in the excavations at Troy, though, so it’s unclear how much of that actually dated back to the Bronze Age, and how much of it was after the fact.
I feel like there’s a logical answer that’s dancing around just outside my reach. Very frustrating.
There’s one other thing about this Egyptian tale that I feel like could be significant, though I’m not sure exactly how. And that’d the fact that the city which fell was Joppa. Joppa, as you may recall, was a Phoenician city, and the homeland of Andromeda, wife of Perseus. And Perseus was the mythical founder of Mycenae.
I don’t know. Maybe that’s totally irrelevant/coincidental.
But what if it isn’t, and I’m just too dumb to see what the connection is?
(This particular fall of Joppa would have been about two hundred years after Perseus and Andromeda’s time, btw. In case anyone was wondering.)