The Secrets of Mycenaean Gold in Thessaly – New Study Reveals How Jewelry Was Made 3,500 Years Ago

A fascinating new study has shed light on the sophisticated goldworking techniques used by Mycenaean craftsmen in Thessaly over 3,500 years ago. By analyzing more than 165 gold objects—ranging from jewelry to weapon ornaments—discovered in monumental tombs around the Pagasetic Gulf near Volos, researchers have unveiled the remarkable skill and symbolism behind these ancient treasures.

The study, published in the Journal of Archaeological Science: Reports, is the first comprehensive investigation into Mycenaean goldsmithing in Thessaly, a region steeped in mythology as the homeland of the Argonauts and the Golden Fleece.

Tombs Full of Gold – And Stories

The gold artifacts analyzed come from four tholos (beehive) tombs: three in Dimini, near Volos, and one at the site of Kazanaki. Remarkably, the Kazanaki tomb was discovered intact during 2004 excavations. It contained the remains of seven individuals—both adults and children—alongside more than 150 gold items, from decorative beads to embossed discs and weapon embellishments.

The other three tombs—located at Kapakli, Lamiospito, and Toumba—were looted in antiquity, but still yielded valuable finds. In the Mycenaean world, which flourished between 1600 and 1100 BCE, such gold items played a ceremonial role in elite burials, accompanying the dead into the afterlife.

Interestingly, many of the pieces—like delicate gold discs or embossed beads—are thought to have been crafted specifically for burial purposes, not for everyday wear. Their fragile construction and symbolic nature suggest they were offerings, items meant for the next world rather than the present one.

Goldworking Without Waste

One of the most intriguing findings is how efficiently Mycenaean goldsmiths used their material. With just 10 grams of pure gold, they could produce nearly 200 small, circular foils to decorate burial shrouds.

More elaborate pieces, such as rings or weapon decorations, involved advanced techniques like granulation (applying tiny gold spheres) and cloisonné (inlaying compartments with colored materials).

Simpler items, like the beads found in necklaces, were made by joining two thin gold sheets—one flat back piece and one decorated front—without soldering. Instead, craftsmen mechanically folded the edges together, a technique that suggests local, small-scale production by artisans who may not have been full-time goldsmiths.

By contrast, more refined objects, such as rings or detailed weapon covers, were likely produced by skilled specialists. These often featured intricate spiral motifs, floral patterns, or even embossed human faces—designs that required both precision and expertise.

The Mystery of “Artificial” Gold

Chemical analysis revealed that Mycenaean goldsmiths in Thessaly did not work with pure gold alone. Instead, they intentionally mixed natural gold with copper and silver to create a variety of hues. Most of the artifacts contained between 4% and 35% silver and up to 4% copper, suggesting deliberate alloying rather than the accidental use of impure gold.

This practice could be linked to sourcing gold from local rivers and streams, where the metal occurs naturally mixed with other elements. Intriguingly, the beads from each tomb had a remarkably consistent chemical composition—implying that they were mass-produced for specific burial events. At Kazanaki, for instance, researchers identified three distinct groups of gold discs, possibly corresponding to different phases of tomb use or separate burials.

A Broader Comparison: Thessaly vs. the Mycenaean Heartland

When compared to similar objects from Argolis—the heartland of the Mycenaean civilization—Thessalian artifacts displayed a more uniform chemical profile. Argolis, by contrast, showed greater diversity, including reddish-tinted beads from Prosymna that may have been made using Egyptian techniques for creating rose gold.

Despite some superficial similarities with Egyptian styles—such as papyrus-shaped beads—the study clarifies that Mycenaean goldsmithing developed its own distinct traditions. For example, unlike Egyptian craftsmen, Mycenaeans did not use complex soldering methods or include platinum in their alloys, a hallmark of Egyptian gold.

Local Craft or Imported Luxury?

A central question raised by the study is whether these gold objects were produced locally or imported from specialized workshops. The simpler items—discs and beads—may have been made near the burial sites, possibly using imported gold sheets. On the other hand, the more complex artifacts, such as rings with soldered decorative elements, were likely crafted in elite workshops that served local aristocracies.

Interestingly, the study suggests that the production of burial jewelry did not require full-time goldsmiths in every settlement—explaining the relative scarcity of gold workshops across Mycenaean archaeological sites despite the abundance of burial gold.

A Window into a Complex Society

This groundbreaking study not only reveals the technical sophistication of Mycenaean goldsmiths, but also challenges the idea that Thessaly was a peripheral region. Instead, it highlights Thessaly’s unique craft traditions and its participation in a broader Mycenaean cultural network.

From the gold floral ornaments at Kapakli to the haunting human-headed decorations at Kazanaki, these objects testify to a society rich in symbolism, one that combined local identity with long-distance connections.

While many questions remain—such as the exact origin of the gold or the structure of workshop production—this research opens a vivid window into a world where gold was more than a precious metal. It was a marker of status, a vessel of belief, and a bridge between the living and the dead.

In the end, the gold of Mycenaean Thessaly was not just adornment—it was an enduring expression of identity, power, and spiritual continuity.