Feeding the Democracy: The Athenian Grain Supply in the Fifth and Fourth Centuries BC [1 ed.] 019922840X, 9780199228409

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Feeding the Democracy: The Athenian Grain Supply in the Fifth and Fourth Centuries BC [1 ed.]
 019922840X, 9780199228409

Table of contents :
Part I Models and Calculations
1 From Crisis to Uncertainty: Calculating Athenian Grain Production
Part II Archaeology
2 Euonymon: The Agriculture and Economy of the Classical Athenian Deme
3 The Fruits of Empire
4 The Athenian Grain Supply and Black Sea Archaeology
Part III Literature
5 Bread and Politics: The Ideology of the Grain Supply in Athenian Rhetoric
Index Locorum
General Index

Citation preview

OXF O R D C L A S S I C A L M O N O G R A P H S Published under the supervision of a Committee of the Faculty of Classics in the University of Oxford The aim of the Oxford Classical Monograph series (which replaces the Oxford Classical and Philosophical Monographs) is to publish books based on the best theses on Greek and Latin literature, ancient history, and ancient philosophy examined by the Faculty Board of Classics.

Relief on the honorific decree of the Spartocid Kings (IG II2 212 ¼ GHI II 64).

Feeding the Democracy The Athenian Grain Supply in the Fifth and Fourth Centuries bc




Great Clarendon Street, Oxford ox2 6dp Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide in Oxford New York Auckland Cape Town Dar es Salaam Hong Kong Karachi Kuala Lumpur Madrid Melbourne Mexico City Nairobi New Delhi Shanghai Taipei Toronto With oYces in Argentina Austria Brazil Chile Czech Republic France Greece Guatemala Hungary Italy Japan Poland Portugal Singapore South Korea Switzerland Thailand Turkey Ukraine Vietnam Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and in certain other countries Published in the United States by Oxford University Press Inc., New York ß Alfonso Moreno 2007 The moral rights of the author have been asserted Database right Oxford University Press (maker) First published 2007 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reprographics rights organization. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above You must not circulate this book in any other binding or cover and you must impose the same condition on any acquirer British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data Data available Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data Data available Typeset by SPI Publisher Services, Pondicherry, India Printed in Great Britain on acid-free paper by Biddles Ltd., King’s Lynn, Norfolk ISBN 978–0–19–922840–9 1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

For EB and OM Iqcuqou ´ pgcÞ tir aPtoEr Ksti, hgsauqer whom¸r.

Preface Trade is the linchpin of any coherent concept of the Classical or Mediterranean world. For such coherence depends on processes that can only exist through trade: a live diVusion of ideas through space and time; a constant intellectual and material interaction; a vast movement of countless persons and objects across enormous distances. Most traders, the principal agents of this phenomenon, of course remain nameless to us, their concerns appear utterly mundane, and their activities hide in the background of more dramatic events. Only in hindsight will their power appear historically fundamental. Political structures, imposed over periods and regions through varieties of government, diplomacy, or military action, are amazingly ephemeral in comparison with the structures created by trade. This work presents a history of the Classical Athenian grain supply, a single and relatively well-documented example of trade in the ancient Mediterranean. InXuential recent publications on this subject have argued that Athens was nearly self-suYcient in grain from its own countryside during the Wfth and fourth centuries bc, and did not require constant and large-scale importations from overseas sources, as traditionally thought. The almost immediate transformation of this new model into orthodoxy would be surprising if it did not cohere so solidly with other long-established scholarly beliefs, especially in the socially marginalized status of the Greek trader. Indeed, before the creation of the new model, it was an awkward paradox to think of any trade as being socially, politically, or economically important at Athens, if (as we had long been told) most traders in Athens were poor and foreign. Other theories that have viewed ancient cities primarily as ‘‘consumer’’ entities, or underlined ancient unawareness of modern economic concepts and credit structures, also now Wnd ready compatibility with the model of a nearsuYcient Athens. But the overall result is deeply puzzling. The Classical period, the age of Athens as a Mediterranean cultural power, is now presented as



an age of essentially localized production and trade in grain, the most important of staples. If this is correct, the movement of this bulk commodity not only did not drive (or even play a substantial role in) the interactive processes that give meaning to the terms ‘‘Classical’’ or ‘‘Mediterranean’’, but also was irrelevant in sustaining the sophisticated urban culture of democratic Athens. The re-examination of this scenario is one of the two central tasks of this work. The second is the consideration of the Athenian grain supply in the context of Athenian democracy and political life generally, for it is clear that this is how the issue was viewed by the Athenians themselves. In order to achieve both tasks, I have consciously selected and privileged a series of themes and evidence that is by no means exhaustive, and might initially even seem remote from the strict remit of my title, but which nevertheless serves to present a picture of how trade and politics interacted in Athens—of the essential ‘‘shape’’ of the democratic Athenian grain supply. In the process, places like the deme Euonymon and its neighbours, the island of Euboea, and the Crimean kingdom of Bosporus receive a level of attention that, for example, Sicily, Cyrene, and Egypt do not. Even so, my intention is purely diagnostic, to use the widest range of sources and tools to discover the characteristic traits of my subject. In short, I hope that the open-minded reader will ultimately agree that this is not a book of studies in or aspects of the Athenian grain supply, but instead a coherent argument for a new approach to the relation between land, trade, and politics in democratic Athens. The structure of the work is as follows: Part I attempts a calculation of Athenian grain production. Starting with a synthesis of previous scholarship on Greek and Attic agriculture, it presents a systematic challenge to the model of Attic near-suYciency put forward by Garnsey. It shows that, according to the most likely Wgures, Classical Athens did constantly rely on large-scale grain imports. However, this calculation can only be an introduction, plagued as it remains by inherent and deep uncertainties. Part II, with its chapters on the agricultural economy of Attica, Euboea and the cleruchies, and the Bosporan kingdom, presents a wide-ranging look at the archaeological evidence from these areas, and clariWes the methods used by Athens to obtain large quantities of overseas grain. Part III in turn focuses on the Athenian literary evidence, explores the



rhetorical strategies used to discuss the grain supply in the democracy, and tries to understand the historical realties they mask. Objects and texts together will allow us to see a new model of the Athenian grain supply that is neither primitivist nor modernist along familiar lines. Classical Athens will be seen to depend not only on a longdistance, large-scale grain trade, but also on the traditional capacity of an elite to control this trade. Having sounded out some tough audiences over the past years on parts of my argument, I am fully aware that not everyone will be persuaded. Nevertheless, I hope that my ideas will at least help to open and stimulate further discussion away from the darkness of entrenched dogmas, and to point the way to a renewed and comprehensive investigation of trade in the history of the Greek polis. My original project would not have been possible without the incomparable humanity and expertise of Professor Ernst Badian and Dr Oswyn Murray, my mentors at Harvard and Oxford. To them I owe and oVer whatever is good in these pages with my deepest admiration and gratitude. No less great is my debt to the excellent Oxford undergraduates that I have been privileged to teach, and who have stimulated and tested my ideas; to Professor Robin Osborne who commented on early thesis drafts with care and incisiveness; to Dr Mogens Hansen and Mr Nicholas Purcell who read the original product, examined it viva voce, and pointed out its weaknesses; to Professor Robert Parker, who patiently guided the transformation of D.Phil. thesis into book; and to the keen and professional assistance of Hilary O’Shea, Jenny WagstaVe, Dorothy McCarthy, Kathleen Fearn, Virginia Williams, and Maggi Shade at Oxford University Press. Very warm thanks also go to the following, who have helped invaluably along the way: R. Bartlett, D. J. Blackman, J. Bohannon, J. J. Coulton, T. Endicott, V. Ennor, M. Faraguna, L. Foxhall, N. Geroulanos, J. GriYn, A. Kelly, M. Kerschner, E. Kourinou, J. Lyubich, A. Maslennikov, H.-C. Meyer, V. Myslov, L. Nixon, G. Oliver, K. Plo¨ger, M. Pobjoy, S. Price, O. Rodriguez de la Fuente, the late G. E. M. de Ste. Croix, R. R. R. Smith, S. Solovyov, O. Sokolova, N. Stargardt, L. Strokova, R. Stroud, O. Taplin, V. Tolstikov, G. Tsetskhladze, M. Walbank, D. Zhuravlev, and the late M. Zolotarev. Invaluable institutional assistance came



from the Austrian Archaeological Institute (University of Vienna); the Archaeological Reserve of Tauric Chersonesus (Crimea); my graduate alma mater Balliol College and its Jowett Senior Scholarship fund; comrades in the Bosporan Archaeological Expedition (Kerch); the British School at Athens; the Harvard Alumni Club UK; the Hermitage Museum (St Petersburg); Magdalen College for ideal research and teaching conditions; the National Archaeological Museum (Athens); the National Historical Museum (Moscow); the ORS Awards Scheme; Oxford University (especially the Graduate Studies and the Craven Fellowship fund for extremely generous Wnancial assistance); and the Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts (Moscow). Finally, my heartfelt thanks are due to my dear wife and daughter, and to our parents, families, and friends. I can only hope that any others whom I have forgotten to mention—like those readers who may discover any of my errors of fact and argument remaining—will be in a forgiving mood. A.M. Magdalen College, Oxford

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Contents Illustrations Maps Tables Abbreviations

xiii xv xvi xvii



1. From Crisis to Uncertainty: Calculating Athenian Grain Production I. The Land II. Use of the Land III. Crop Yields IV. Population V. Consumption VI. Conclusion PART I I.

3 11 14 26 28 31 32


2. Euonymon: The Agriculture and Economy of the Classical Athenian Deme I. Euonymon: General Overview II. Regional Landscape III. Intensive versus Subsistence Agriculture IV. The Economy of Euonymon V. Attica and the Athenian Market VI. Conclusion 3. The Fruits of Empire I. Athens and Euboea II. The Big Picture: Euboean Agriculture, Geography, and History III. Patterns of Athenian Land-Holding and the Athenian Cleruchies on Euboea

37 39 46 57 64 72 76 77 77 81 89


Contents IV. Forts and the Imperial Territory V. Conclusion

4. Ex Ponto: The Athenian Grain Supply and Black Sea Archaeology I. Northern Black Sea Aristocracies: Sixth and Fifth Centuries bc, to 438 II. The Royal Economy: From 438 to the End of the Fourth Century bc III. Conclusion PART III.

126 140

144 146 169 206


5. Bread and Politics: The Ideology of the Grain Supply in Athenian Rhetoric I. The Dealers II. Grain-Importers: Emporoi and Naukleroi III. ‘‘Outside’’ Athenian Politics? The Evidence from Commercial Suits (Dikai Emporikai) IV. Conclusion

211 213 242 285 299



Appendix 1. Relevant Measures Appendix 2. Land-Leases Appendix 3. Athenian Law Taxing Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros, 374/3 bc (GHI II 26) Appendix 4. The Regulation of the Grain Market Appendix 5. Gazetteer of Grain Sources Bibliography Index Locorum General Index

325 327 330 334 337 345 373 394

Illustrations Frontispiece. Relief on the honoriWc decree of the Spartocid kings (IG II2 212 ¼ GHI II 64). Author. Fig.1. Trachones (Euonymon). Left: E. Curtius and J. Kaupert (eds.), Karten von Attika, Berlin (1881–1900). Right: British School at Athens Archives, U4 Royal Air Force 4018.* 40–1 Fig. 2. Grabhu¨gel and terraces. Top: E. Curtius and J. Kaupert (eds.), Karten von Attika, Berlin (1881–1900). Bottom: British School at Athens Archives, U13 Royal Air Force 3057.* 52 Fig. 3. Border area between Euonymon and Halimous. Left: E. Curtius and J. Kaupert (eds.), Karten von Attika, Berlin (1881–1900). 70 Right: British School at Athens Archives, U23 Royal Air Force 3043.* Fig. 4. King’s (Tsarskii) kurgan, near Panticapaeum. Author. 183 Fig.5. Panticapaeum stater, fourth century (reverse). SNG IX. 1 867 (Panticapaeum: 4th century (British Museum)). From D. Williams and J. Ogden (1994), Greek Gold: Jewellry of the Classical World, London (British Museum Press): 122. ß Copyright the Trustees of the British Museum. 184 Fig. 6. Panticapaeum stater (showing obverse) turned into ring (from the Great Ryzhanovka kurgan). From E. D. Reeder (ed.) (1999), Scythian Gold: Treasures from Ancient Ukraine, New York: 210. ß Copyright the Institute of Archaology of the National Academy of Sciences of Ukraine. 184 Fig. 7. Solokha cup. From F. Althaus and M. SutcliVe (eds.) (2006), The Road to Byzantium: Luxury Arts of Antiquity, London: 15. ß Copyright The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg. 197 Fig. 8. Pectoral from Tolstaja Mogila (detail). Photograph courtesy of the Museum of Historical Treasures of Ukraine. ß Copyright the Museum of Historical Treasures of Ukraine. 198




Kul’-Oba cup. From A. Y. Alekseyev et al. (eds.) (1997), Zwei Gesichter der Ermitage: Die Skythen und ihr Gold, Bd. 1, Stuttgart: 169. ß Copyright The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg. Fig.10. Solokha comb. From A. Y. Alekseyev et al. (eds.) (1997), Zwei Gesichter der Ermitage: Die Skythen und ihr Gold, Bd. 1, Stuttgart: 103. ß Copyright The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg.



* Crown copyright material is reproduced under Class Licence No. CP01P0000148 with the permission of OPSI and the Queen’s Printer for Scotland.

Maps Map 1. The Athenian plain. Author, based on A. Philippson (1950–9), Die Griechischen Landschaften (H. Lehmann and E. Kirsten, eds., rev.), vols. 1, 2, 4, Frankfurt: vol. 1, part 3 (1952). Map 2. Euboea. After L. H. Sackett, V. Hankey, R. J. Howell, T. W. Jacobsen, and M. R. Popham (1966), ‘‘Prehistoric Euboea: Contributions toward a Survey’’, Annual of the British School at Athens 61 (with the permission of the British School at Athens). Map 3. The Cimmerian Bosporus. Copyright Alice and Caspar Meyer.


78–9 145

Tables 1. Attic grain production according to Jarde´, Garnsey, Osborne, and Sallares 2. Land-use on Euboea 3. Estimates based on the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 4. The Atheno-Bosporan network: their relations and services 5. Land-Leases

10 86 111 177 328

Abbreviations Unless otherwise noted here, all abbreviations used in this work follow the conventions used in l’Anne´e Philologique and (for ancient works) in OCD, pp. xxix–liv. ACT I–II

S. Hornblower, A Commentary on Thucydides, vols. 1–2, Oxford (1991–6).


J. K. Davies, Athenian Propertied Families: 600–300 BC, Oxford (1971).


J. D. Beazley (1963), Attic Red-Figure Vase-Painters, 2nd edn., Oxford.


B. D. Meritt, H. T. Wade-Gery, and M. F. McGregor, The Athenian Tribute Lists, vols. I–IV, Cambridge, Mass./ Princeton (1939–53).


D. M. Lewis, J. Boardman, et al. (eds.), The Cambridge Ancient History, 2nd edn. (1992–4).


V. V. Struve (ed.), Corpus Inscriptionum Regni Bosporani (Korpus Bosporskikh Nadpisei), Leningrad (1965).


H. Diels and W. Kranz, Die Fragmente der Vorsokratiker, 6th edn., Zurich (1996–8).


F. Jacoby (ed.), Die Fragmente der griechischen Historiker, Berlin (1923–58).


C. Mu¨ller (with T. Mu¨ller and C.V. Langlois) (eds.), Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum, 5 vols., Paris (1848–73).


C. W. Fornara (ed.), Archaic Times to the End of the Peloponnesian War, 2nd edn., Cambridge (1983).


C. Mu¨ller (ed.), Geographi Graeci Minores, vol. 2, Paris (1861).


R. Meiggs and D. M. Lewis (eds.), A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions to the End of the Fifth Century BC, rev. edn., Oxford (1988).




P. J. Rhodes and R. Osborne (eds.), Greek Historical Inscriptions, 404–323 BC, Oxford (2003).


P. Harding (ed.), From the End of the Peloponnesian War to the Battle of Ipsus, Cambridge (1985).


A. W. Gomme, A Historical Commentary on Thucydides, vols. 1–5 (vols. 4–5 with A. Andrewes and K. J. Dover), Oxford (1945–81). Hellenic Military Geographical Service: La´vrion, Limni, Ere´tria, Athens (1988, 1989, 1990).


B. V. Head, Historia Numorum, 2nd edn., Oxford (1911).


M. H. Hansen and T. H. Nielsen (eds.), An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis, Oxford (2004).


D. M. Lewis et al. (eds.), Inscriptiones Graecae: Inscriptiones Atticae Euclidis Anno Anteriores, 3rd edn., Berlin (1998).


J. Kirchner (ed.), Inscriptiones Graecae: Inscriptiones Atticae Euclidis Anno Posteriores, 2nd edn., Berlin (1916–40).


R. Kassel and C. Austin (eds.), Poetae Comici Graeci, Berlin/New York (1983–).


E. Curtius and J. Kaupert (eds.), Karten von Attika, Berlin (1881–1900).


H. G. Liddell, R. Scott, and H. S. Jones (eds.), A GreekEnglish Lexicon (rev. edn., with suppl.), Oxford (1968).


Materialy i issledovaniya po arkheologii SSSR.


Naval StaV Intelligence Division, Geographical Section, A Handbook of Greece, vol. i, London (1918).


S. Hornblower and A. Spawforth (eds.), The Oxford Classical Dictionary, 3rd edn., Oxford (1996).


I. Kirchner (ed.), Prosopographia Attica, Berlin (1901–3).


J. S. Traill (ed.), Persons of Ancient Athens, Toronto (1994–).


V. Rose, Aristotelis qui ferebantur librorum fragmenta, Leipzig (1886).


E. Ruschenbusch (ed.), ˇ¸˝ˇ ˝ˇˇ: Die Fragmente des solonischen Gesetzeswerkes mit einer Text- und ¨ berlieferungsgeschichte, Historia Supp. 9. Wiesbaden U (1966).




Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum, Amsterdam (1923–).


W. Dittenberger (ed.), Sylloge Inscriptionum Graecarum, 3rd edn., Leipzig (1915).


B. Snell and H. Maehler (eds.), Bacchylidis Carmina cum fragmentis, 10th edn., Leipzig (1970).


Sylloge Nummorum Graecorum.

Tod II

M. N. Tod (ed.), A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions, vol. 2, Oxford (1948).


R. Kannicht (ed.), Tragicorum Graecorum Fragmenta, vol. 5, Go¨ttingen (2004).


M. L. West (ed.), Iambi et Elegi Graeci, 2 vols., Oxford (1989–92).

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Part I Models and Calculations

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1 From Crisis to Uncertainty: Calculating Athenian Grain Production Before asking how or from where Athens imported her staple food, one must calculate how much of it Attica itself could provide. This requires the answers to Wve basic questions: Wrst, how large was the territory of Attica that was suitable for cultivation?; second, what portion of that suitable territory was cultivated each year?; third, how much food could that land yield?; fourth, what was the population of Attica?; and Wfth, how much grain did this population consume? Unfortunately, the extant documentation provides few answers. No ancient works have survived with the necessary Wgures, and indeed it is almost certain that none was ever written. This may seem surprising given the obvious and central importance of food supply to any society. And in fourth-century Athens the subject of grain (æd  ı) was on the required agenda of each principal assembly (KŒŒº  Æ Œıæ Æ) and was thus discussed at least ten times each year.1 The city’s food supply was thus a problem demanding constant political attention and intervention. However, it is diYcult to Wnd in the Classical sources more than a very imprecise grasp of the scientiWc and statistical dimensions of the problem: no population census ever took place; there was no attempt to calculate the extent, use, and productivity of the arable land of Attica; no investigation of the nutritional requirements of its inhabitants.2 1 [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 43.4. 2 The only thing close to a census was an exetasmos, probably a military review of all adult male citizens carried out by Demetrius of Phaleron c.317–307: see Hansen (1985), 29 V., 66.


Models and Calculations

Scholars must therefore attempt the reasonable construction of models that, as sets of information, were completely unknown to the historical actors and hence never inXuenced their attitudes or decisions. The power of impressions and mentalities will ever elude the model-maker, whose creations therefore must stop at delineating what Braudel called ‘‘the limits of the possible’’.3 Auguste Jarde´’s monograph of 1925, still the classic formulation of the problem, calculates that Attica had a carrying capacity (deWned as the limit on the number of people it could sustain on its own agricultural produce) of 33 people per km2. Measuring 2,400 km2 , Attica could thus have a self-suYcient population of up to 80,000.4 Jarde´ concluded that Athens outran its carrying capacity in the Archaic period, and was critically reliant on imported grain during the Classical period. This view found long academic acceptance, until it was overturned by Peter Garnsey.5 In minimizing the volume and importance of ancient trade, Garnsey’s work built directly on Moses Finley’s inXuential views of the ancient economy.6 These can be roughly summarized. Since an independently conceived or scientiWcally examinable Weld of economics is not reXected in the ancient sources, the ancient economy was (allegedly unlike our own) a socially determined, or ‘‘embedded’’, Weld of human activity. From this position (known as substantivism), Finley argued that trade was socially marginal in the ancient world, and that the ancient economy revolved around the opposite of trade: self-suYciency or autarky. In Greece, if this could not be practically achieved by individual oikoi or even by a whole polis, at least it could aim to liberate most citizens from what would supposedly have been an intolerable dependence on traders. An important result of this (and here the substantivists agree with the much older and less sophisticated position known as primitivism) is that ancient trade always remained underdeveloped. Garnsey’s picture essentially agrees with this: it is that of a more autarkic Athens, a more straightforwardly agricultural society, and perhaps a more ‘‘normal’’ Greek city than previously thought. 3 Braudel (1981), 27. 4 Jarde´ (1925), 143, with Garnsey (1988), 91. 5 Garnsey (1988); to gauge the almost total level of support that Garnsey has found, see Morris (1994b), 361; Hornblower (2002), 32. 6 See Finley (1973), passim.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


However, the ‘‘new orthodoxy’’ of Finley and his disciples is no longer so new or so orthodox. It has since become possible to take a substantivist position on the social functions of ancient trade, industry, and banking without going on to minimize the scale of these activities or marginalize their role in the Greek economy.7 One might therefore conclude that the problem of the Athenian grain supply has reached a state of uncertainty, perhaps even crisis (the latest edition of The Cambridge Ancient History, for example, simply steers clear of the debate).8 It is, at any rate, a topic urgently demanding reanalysis. This introduction presents an overview of the discussion, noting the diVerent answers currently given to the Wve major questions mentioned above, and then proceeds to analyze each argument and extract the best possible conclusion. For the extent of cultivable land Garnsey adopts 2,400 km2 , a standard Wgure for the approximate total area of Attica, and argues that the amount estimated by Jarde´ as suitable for cultivation (20%) is too low.9 His own estimate is 35–40%, which he defends, Wrst, by estimating the number of Athenian land-owning hoplites and the amount of land they owned; second, by suggesting that the extent of Attic terrace-farming has been underestimated; and third, by providing a new analysis of the First-Fruits inscription from Eleusis (IG II2 1672).10 Garnsey’s Wgure of 35–40%, as well as Jarde´’s 20%, applies to cultivable land. A separate question is how much land was cultivated in any given year. Jarde´ argued that biennial fallow was in wide use in Attica, but Garnsey disputes this.11 Arguing that leguminous pulses were widely cultivated, he argues for a system of crop rotation ensuring that most, if not all, of the cultivable land produced food every year.12 As a measure to prevent the soil-exhaustion that invariably ensues from such continuous cultivation, Garnsey argues that suYcient livestock would be kept close by for their manure to be collected and spread as fertilizer.13 Living with chronic malnutrition and aiming at subsistence, according to Garnsey, the average Attic 7 9 10 11 12

See Morris (1994b). 8 Davies (1992), 301. Garnsey (1988), 90–3; see Jarde´ (1925), 52–3. IACP, 624, gives ‘‘c. 2,550 km2’’. Garnsey (1988), 91–2, 99–101; on terrace farming, see Chapter 2, pp. 53–7, 65–6. Jarde´ (1925), 81–90, esp. 88: ‘‘La Gre`ce . . . est condamne´e a` la jache`re’’. Garnsey (1988), 93–4. 13 Ibid.


Models and Calculations

farmer would have been reluctant to leave even a part of his small land-holding unproductive.14 Garnsey’s conclusion is that 35–40% of Attica was not only cultivable but, on the average, cultivated every year, in eVect quadrupling Jarde´’s calculations.15 Garnsey also believes that barley was cultivated four times more than wheat.16 His estimate of the output of each cereal, 8 hl (616 kg) per hectare for wheat, and 12 hl (768 kg) per hectare for barley, is more conservative than that of Jarde´.17 He does not explicitly estimate a seed:yield ratio, but this is implied as somewhat more than 1:3 for wheat and 1:4 for barley.18 This is also a conservative estimate compared to Jarde´’s 1:4.5–7 and 1:7.75–9.75.19 On the question of consumption, Garnsey estimates that an Athenian population of 250,000 was halved by the Peloponnesian War, but recovered to 200,000 during the fourth century.20 He estimates the average rate of food consumption as 230 kg per person per year, of which 75% was ‘‘grain’’.21 Here he again diVers from Jarde´’s estimated average consumption of 230 kg of wheat per person per year.22 Garnsey’s diVerent estimates amount to a carrying capacity of 55 people per km2, or 132,000 people, but his general conclusion is that ‘‘Attica was capable of feeding in the region of 120,000–150,000 people, and this without the aid of other territories, under normal conditions’’.23 This calculation not only far exceeds Jarde´’s 33 people per km2, but also is enough to feed 100% of the population during the 480s, 75% during the entire fourth century, and more than 50% at the population peak during the middle of the Wfth century. As we have seen, Garnsey seeks to overturn Jarde´ by modifying three crucial variables: the amount of cultivable land, the amount of land cultivated in any given year, and the cereal consumption rate.

14 Garnsey (1988). On chronic malnutrition: see Garnsey (1999), 2, 43–61. 15 Garnsey (1988), 102; cf. 93–4: Garnsey ultimately opts for using 17.5% as a ‘‘likely’’ Wgure in his calculations, but still thinks it is too low, abiding by his previous estimate as a possible Wgure. 16 Garnsey (1988), 102–4. 17 Garnsey (1988), 104 (cf. 102) in comparison to Jarde´’s 600–900 kg/ha for wheat and 1,020–1,270 kg/ha for barley: Jarde´ (1925), 60, 142. 18 Garnsey (1988), 102–4. 19 Ibid. 95. 20 Ibid. 89–90. 21 Ibid. 102–4. 22 Ibid. 91; Jarde´ (1925), 142. 23 Garnsey (1988), 104; see also his table on p. 102.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


The validity of Garnsey’s argument at these three points must therefore be examined with particular care. Similar arguments to Garnsey’s may be found in Robin Osborne’s Classical Landscape with Figures (1987).24 Accepting the standard Wgure (approximately 2,400 km2 ) as the extent of Attica, Osborne guesses that 40% of it could be used ‘‘for agriculture of some sort’’.25 This is close to Garnsey’s estimate, yet Osborne, who studies the evidence in Theophrastus and the land-lease documents more closely, believes that the use of biennial fallow was widespread; the proportion of total arable land that could be devoted to cereals must therefore be halved every given year.26 Osborne also estimates a higher yield than Garnsey: Neolithic archaeology shows, he believes, that high labour inputs could yield 1,000 kg of wheat per hectare in Attica; the yield of barley would have been well above that.27 Osborne also accepts a far more productive seed:yield ratio than Garnsey’s, namely 1:10 for wheat and barley.28 Finally, Osborne believes that Athens had an average population of 150,000 during the Wfth and fourth centuries (a somewhat lower Wgure than Garnsey’s average of 182,000), consuming at a rate of 200 kg of wheat per person per year.29 In conclusion, Osborne believes that even in bad years Attica could support a population of 150,000 people, i.e. Athens normally never imported grain.30 Again, we arrive at a very diVerent conclusion for Attica’s carrying capacity from Jarde´’s 33 people per km2. Yet, instead of arguing against biennial fallow and therefore quadrupling Jarde´’s estimates for the land under cultivation (as Garnsey does), Osborne merely doubles the Wgure, but insists on vastly higher grain yields generated 24 Osborne has since distanced himself considerably, if not totally, from the views expressed in this book, by showing (2004: 39–54) how much eighth-century Pithecussae was dependent on imported grain and overseas trade; on p. 140 he says: ‘‘I have come to believe that that picture [i.e. Finley’s and his own in 1987] is mistaken’’. 25 Ibid. 46. 26 Ibid. 41–3. 27 Ibid. 44; cf. Garnsey (1988), 102, 104. 28 Ibid. 29 Osborne (2004), 46 for population; see also 45: ‘‘900 kg net of seed . . . is enough to feed four to Wve people for a year’’. 30 See Table 1 for a calculation of the normal productivity of Attica, which Osborne leaves unmentioned.


Models and Calculations

by intensive farming.31 By using a smaller population Wgure in his calculations, Osborne’s results turn out to be of the same order as Garnsey’s, minimizing (if not altogether abolishing) Athenian dependence on imported grain.32 Robert Sallares’ The Ecology of the Ancient Greek World (1991) casts important light on this discussion. Sallares believes, like Garnsey, that Jarde´ seriously underestimated the cultivable land in Attica.33 Based on the agricultural data of the 1961 census, Sallares estimates that about 30% of ancient Attica was cultivated (a maximum possible 40% already includes land of extremely poor quality).34 He believes that biennial fallow was predominant, showing that the two agricultural models adopted by Garnsey as alternatives to biennial fallow did not exist in Classical times.35 First, the low rainfall of Attica cannot meet the water requirement of pulses in Weld cultivation.36 Furthermore, because pulses absorb high levels of nitrogen, cultivating pulses without chemical fertilizers and then harvesting them for human or animal consumption actually reduces the yield of cereal crops planted on the same soil in the following year. It is only by ploughing the pulses into the soil as green manure, a practice Theophrastus observed (only) in Thessaly and Macedonia, that they could be beneWcial, rather than detrimental, to soil fertility.37 Second, Sallares argues that animal manure was not available to the Attic farmer in quantities suYcient to raise cereal yields signiWcantly, as Garnsey believes. The high population density of Attica, combined with a semi-arid climate that hinders plants in recovering from grazing, made any competition by animals for cereal crops extremely undesirable.38 Sallares argues for the predominance of barley over wheat in Attica on a ratio of 9.3:1,39 but elsewhere opts for a proportion of 75% barley to 25% wheat.40 In his chapter examining ancient evidence for 31 Osborne (2004), 44; cf. 41. 32 Ibid. 46. 33 Sallares (1991), 73, 80. 34 Ibid. 79, 310, 386. This Wgure allows for the diVerent extents of modern and ancient Attica as well as for the encroachment of modern Athens on agricultural land. 35 Ibid. 386. 36 Ibid. 300–3: it is only in modern times, with the use of pumps in irrigation, that legumes can be cultivated on a large scale in much of Greece. 37 Ibid. 300–1, 473 n. 18; Theophr. HP 8.9.1 38 Ibid. 311–12. 39 Ibid. 314. 40 Ibid. 79.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


yield Wgures, he argues for 650 kg/ha as a yield-ceiling for the entire ancient Mediterranean.41 SigniWcantly, he calculates that a seed:yield ratio of 1:4, given by Columella as a maximum for Italy, translates into a gross yield of 500 kg/ha.42 This Wgure, in addition to the average seed:yield ratio calculated for the fertile ager Leontinus in Sicily (1:6),43 establishes boundaries, in terms of gross yield and seed:yield ratio, which, according to Sallares, the proverbially poor soil of Attica could not have exceeded.44 Sallares estimates a total population of 270,000 on the eve of the Peloponnesian War and 150,000 during the fourth century, including slaves and metics.45 The estimated consumption rate is 5 medimnoi per person per year.46 If maximum yields of around 400 kg/ha to 500 kg/ha are accepted for Attica, Sallares’ Wgures indicate a carrying capacity of between 23 and 33 people per km2.47 This Wgure surprisingly matches Jarde´’s own, although at several points Sallares criticizes Jarde´ for underestimating Attica’s carrying capacity.48 Sallares’ Wgure would indicate that Attica could only feed 55,000–80,000 people, and must therefore have relied heavily on imports. Finally, we must consider Signe Isager and Jens Erik Skydsgaard’s Ancient Greek Agriculture (1992). Although unacquainted with Sallares’ work, Isager and Skydsgaard reach identical conclusions on the strict prevalence of biennial fallow in Greek agriculture, and express strong disagreement with theories of intensive agriculture by means of slave labour or large amounts of animal manure.49 The absence of pulses cultivated for fodder would have made it impossible for animals to be pastured on farms, in turn making the natural fertilizers produced by the animals unavailable to agriculture, and thus severely limiting the extent to which a farmer could aVord to deviate from biennial fallowing.50 41 Ibid. 389. 42 Ibid. 374; see p. 26 below. 43 Ibid. 497 n. 243. 44 Ibid. 375–6. 45 Ibid. 60, 95. This number assumes a population of citizen males of 30,000 (p. 53) and a total number of 100,000–120,000 members of citizen families (p. 60). 46 75% barley, 25% wheat assumed; see ibid. 79. 47 See ibid. 79 and Table 1: the proportion of the harvest used for seed is taken directly from the seed:yield ratio. 48 Ibid. 73, 80. 49 Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 108–14. 50 See ibid. 108 V.

Table 1.

Attic grain production according to Jarde´, Garnsey, Osborne, and Sallares

I. Area of Attica (km2 ) % cultivable II. % cultivated A. Biennial fallow B. Barley: wheat III. Total yield (kg/ha) A. Seed: yield B. Total production (tons)

C. Consumption (kg/person/year) D. Number of people fed E. Carrying capacity (persons=km2 ) IV. Average population during V and IV centuries V. Consumption (kg/person/year) A. Grain required (tons) B. % satisWed by home-grown grain C. Grain imported (tons)





Accepted estimate

2,400 20

2,400 35–40

2,400 40

2,400 30

2,400 35

10 Yes —

17.5–20 [30–40]1 20 Yes [No] Yes — 4:1

15 Yes 3:1

17.5 Yes 4:1

616–924 (wheat) 1,024–1,280 (barley) 1:4.5–7.0 (wheat) 1:7.75–9.75 (barley) 18,000

616 (wheat) 768 (barley) 1:3þ (wheat) 1:4þ (barley) 23,000 [39,000]




1:10 (wheat) 1:10þ (barley) 30,000–43,000



230 79,200 33 —

9,600–17,000 20,000 (700,000 medimnoi) ¼ 16,000 (580,0000 medimnoi) barley þ 4,000 (120,000 medimnoi) wheat 175 200 175 237 wheat 130,000 [223,500] 150,000–216,000 55,000–97,000 84,000 54 [93] 62.5–90 23–40 35 182,000 150,000 183,000 270,000

230 — — —

175 32,000 72 [122] —

200 30,000 100–143 —

175 32,000 30–53 —

237 64,000 (2,240,000 medimnoi) 31 44,000 (1,300,000 medimnoi wheat)

Note: The information enclosed in square brackets applies if Garnsey’s arguments for the widespread absence of biennial fallow are accepted. NB: The table aims to present all the data in compatible terms. All Wgures have therefore been recalculated, and do not exactly correspond to those presented by each scholar.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


Isager and Skydsgaard therefore express deep scepticism towards Garnsey’s revision of Jarde´, but are themselves inconclusive about Attic agricultural production. They are similarly unwilling to express their own views concerning yield or sowing rate, believing that ‘‘such calculations should be relegated to scholars’ desks as some kind of mental exercise’’.51 However, given the importance of this debate and the extreme disarray of current opinion apparent in Table 1, it is diYcult to take this advice. The astounding diVerences between the main three works so far discussed compound the great evidentiary diYculties mentioned at the start of this chapter. The state of our inquiry has therefore taken a grave turn from uncertainty to crisis. Can a better model be achieved by turning to all of the evidence in more detail?

I. THE LAND The Wgure of 2,400 km2 as the area of ancient Attica is tacitly adopted by all of the works we have examined. It derives from the calculation by Beloch of 2,527 km2 , minus the areas of Oropus and Eleutherae, Athenian possessions of Boeotian origin.52 This does not require any revision. The extent of cultivable land is a diVerent matter: since we only have data for the proportion of modern Attica that is apt for cultivation, we must work on the assumption that modern soil and climatic conditions are similar to those in the Wfth and fourth centuries.53 It is therefore important to examine the evidence for this case.

A. Attic Soil and Climate The poverty of the Athenian soil and the extreme paucity and variability of Attic rainfall are attested by a number of ancient sources.54 Plato refers to the land of Attica as ‘‘the bones of a wasted 51 52 53 54

Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 111–13. See Garnsey (1988), 90 (quoting Beloch (1886), 56–7). Cf. Sallares’ table from the census of 1961, (1991), 296. See e.g. Plut. Sol. 22; Strab. 9.1.8; Thuc. 1.2.


Models and Calculations

body’’ ( Æ  Æ  O A) because the thin layer of soil that covers it often recedes altogether to show bare rock beneath.55 Aristotle attests to the extremely high variability in climate and rainfall from one contiguous area to the next and from one year to the next.56 Since both of these testimonies apply equally well to modern Attica, the traditional view, presented by Cary, is that Attica and Greece as a whole have not experienced any appreciable or widespread changes in soil or climate since antiquity.57 This argument Wnds conclusive support in modern studies on Attic archaeology, geology, and dendrology.58 Estimates of the amount of cultivable land in ancient times can therefore be judiciously based on modern data. The detailed case study of the deme Euonymon (Chapter 2) presents an application of this essential conclusion.

B. Cultivable Land As we have seen, Garnsey argues that the actual amount of cultivable land in ancient Attica was between 35% and 40%;59 Osborne guesses that 40% of Attica ‘‘was probably exploited for agriculture of some sort’’;60 and Sallares uses data from the census of 1961 to arrive at a Wgure of 30%.61 We must begin by suspecting Osborne’s Wgure, which is a straightforward guess. Garnsey’s Wgure merits closer study but is also highly speculative. First, he argues that Jarde´’s Wgure of 20% arable does not provide enough land for the number of Athenian hoplites during the Wfth and fourth centuries.62 However, the exact number of Athenian hoplites is another unknown (estimates of their number vary

55 Pl. Criti. 111b5. 56 Arist. Mete. 360b; cf. Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 17–18. 57 Cary (1949), 2–6. 58 Sallares (1991), 390–1: variations in tree-ring widths on wood from the Parthenon show interannual climate variations in the Wfth century similar to those in modern Attica; the virtually identical distribution and behaviour in modern Greece of plant species described by Theophrastus also reveals climatic continuity. 59 See p. 5 above; see also Cary (1949), 76. 60 See p. 7 above. 61 See p. 8 above. 62 Garnsey (1988), 91–2.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


widely), and patterns of Athenian land-ownership are uncertain.63 It is therefore impossible to draw any secure conclusions on the basis of hoplite land ownership. Garnsey’s second argument for increasing the traditionally accepted extent of Attic arable alludes to the Wgure of cultivable land (34.87%) in the census of 1961.64 Garnsey believes that this Wgure should be increased for ancient times by including additional land from the modern eparchy of Megara (the ancient Thriasian Plain), and by compensating for the land lost to modern urbanization.65 We must note that this approach is identical to that by which Sallares arrives at a cultivable maximum of 40% (he prefers 30%).66 It is well to note that some of the land documented in the census was so poor that ‘‘it had only produced a cereal crop once in Wve years prior to the survey’’.67 However, the extent of terracing like that examined in Chapter 2 prompts me to follow the lower end of Garnsey’s estimate: 35% (or 40% as an absolute maximum).68 Garnsey’s third argument for raising Jarde´’s Wgures is based on the First-Fruits inscription (IG II2 1672).69 Garnsey’s laborious interpretation of the Wgures in this document ends with the conclusion that 24.6% of Attica was probably cultivated in 329/8.70 Unfortunately, this argument is based on the fragile premise that the receipts on the inscription can be converted to actual production Wgures. The only way this can be done is by adopting the proportions of 1/600 of the barley harvest and 1/1200 of the wheat harvest decreed by a 63 See Garnsey (1988), 92, quoting hoplite numbers calculated by Hansen, Jones, and Gomme. In fact, it seems likely that Attic land ownership was extremely unequal: see Cohen (2000), 124 n. 117, citing Foxhall’s conclusion (1992), 157 that ‘‘10 percent of households controlled almost half of the total usable agricultural land in Attika’’, and similar Wndings in Osborne (1991). 64 See Garnsey (1988), 92 n. 11 (cf. Sallares (1991), 296). 65 Garnsey (1988), 92. 66 Sallares (1991), 79, 310, 386 (cf. 296). 67 Ibid. 68 Garnsey (1988), 92. After Nixon and Price (2005) it is clear that Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 81, and Foxhall (1996), 45–52, are incorrect in claiming that ancient literary evidence of terraces is non-existent, and in minimizing the extent of terrace farming in ancient Greece; as Chapter 2 shows, I would go even further than Jameson (2002). 69 Garnsey (1988), 92. 70 Ibid. 99–101.


Models and Calculations

second Eleusinian inscription, IG I3 78, probably dating to 416/15.71 The problem with this calculation should immediately be obvious: it is impossible to know whether the proportions decreed in 416/5 remained unchanged until 329/8, and it is in fact very likely they did not. The remark in IG I3 78 that the oVerings follow ‘‘ancestral custom’’ probably refers not to keeping the proportions constant but to making the oVerings in general. The very fact that the proportions had to be announced to Athens and other potential contributors implies that they were subject to variation, and we know that IG I3 78 was superseded before 353/2 by the (now lost) First-Fruits law of Chairemonides.72 In short, deriving the total production for 329/8 from proportions used in the Wfth century will most likely produce wrong Wgures. This is compounded by the absence of contextual information for this inscription, making it likely that the receipts themselves do not represent the production of a normal year.73

II. USE OF THE LAND It is important to reXect that agriculture always involves a trade-oV between long- and short-term productivity: the beneWt of increasing production cannot be gained at the cost of exhausting the soil. A very few years of continuous cultivation without the aid of fertilizers depletes the soil’s supply of nitrogen, phosphorus, and other vital chemicals.74 It may seem paradoxical, but preserving the soil’s fertility by not producing is itself a crucial aspect of production. Biennial 71 Fornara 140 gives three dates (425/4 or c.422 or 416–15) of which the last is most likely since the inscription calls for voluntary pan-Hellenic participation in the oVerings (ll. 30–5), obviously making the assumption of peaceful relations (at least nominally so) between Athens and other cities; it would be hard to explain such a situation during the Archidamian war of 431–21 (cf. GHI 73 commentary). 72 Cf. IG II2 140; see Stroud (1998), 32–7, who adds new grounds for scepticism to the views of Foucart (1884), 202–16. 73 Cf. Garnsey (1988), 99–101; it is surprising that scholars from Jarde´ (1925), 33–60, to Osborne (1987), 46, and even Sallares (1991), 79, 314, 394, 478, have also accepted the production Wgures taken from IG II2 1672, given the crucial problem mentioned here (however, note Jarde´’s reservations (1925), 42). I independently calculate the production of Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros in Chapter 3, using GHI II 26 (see Appendix 3). 74 Sallares (1991), 373.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


fallowing, leaving unproductive a considerable part (usually half) of the cultivable land each year, plays an important role in protecting soil fertility: a fallow Weld retains about 20% of that year’s rainfall, a crucial factor in an area of low and highly variable precipitation like Attica; fallow land also allows bacteria in the soil to Wx the nitrogen needed to nurture the next year’s crop.75 Agricultural systems are known in which land lies fallow for four or Wve years or more.76 Therefore, just as it is wrong to consider biennial fallow ‘‘unproductive’’, neither can it be regarded as the opposite of ‘‘intensive cultivation’’. Of course, the opportunity cost of biennial fallow is obvious: the farmer gives up growing food on half of the land. In order to avoid having to do this, the soil’s moisture and nutrients can be kept up artiWcially by means of good irrigation and fertilizing. Provided with modern machinery and artiWcial chemicals today’s farmer can do this easily.

A. The Revised Model of Greek Farming Garnsey, following recent work by Halstead, Jameson, and Gallant, argues that the use of biennial fallow was not as widespread as is commonly supposed, for two main reasons that we must here treat separately.77

1. Growing Pulses (Legumes and Fodder) Garnsey argues for a rotation system of cereals and pulses in continuous cultivation. He cites two passages from Theophrastus (HP 8.5.1; CP 3.20.7) as evidence for pulses and their probable use in rotation with cereals, but in both cases Theophrastus is misinterpreted.78 In the Wrst passage, Theophrastus speaks of diVerent varieties of pulses (chickpea, lentil, bean, vetch), but aside from mentioning their diVerent tastes gives no hint as to the extent or purpose of their use. The second passage, far from being an example 75 Ibid. 385. 76 Amouretti (1986), 51 n. 2. 77 Garnsey (1988), 93–4, (1992), 147–53; Halstead (1981), 307–39; Jameson (1977–8), 126–30; Gallant (1991), passim. 78 Garnsey (1988), 94 n. 15.


Models and Calculations

of cereal–pulse rotation, is a second-hand recommendation not to mix pulses ( a æ ) with the soil during summer ploughing: ‘‘And for this reason we are told not even to plough pulses into the fallow ground, unless the pulse is very early, namely so that they may not interfere with the summer ploughing’’.79 The passage is signiWcant in that it recommends ploughing a fallow Weld and in that it uses the verb ıººØ , meaning not ‘‘to plant’’ but ‘‘to plough in’’, implying that pulses were mixed with the soil as fertilizers (green manure).80 In both cases, the passage contradicts Garnsey’s view: ploughing is done on fallow land, not on land previously planted with pulses, and pulses are considered fertilizers, not food. When we look at the evidence from Xenophon’s Oeconomicus, we shall see that ploughing fallow land and using green manure were standard practice in ancient Attica. Garnsey argues that several Attic land-leases attest to the use of pulses in rotation with cereals, citing IG II2 2493 and IG I3 252, 12–13 as examples from the Classical period.81 However, a glance at Appendix 2 will show that stipulations for pulses are far from being the rule among surviving leases. More importantly, the only two stipulations for pulses that are Wrmly dated (in IG II2 2493 and IG II2 1241) belong to the end of the fourth century. IG I3 252 dates roughly to the fourth century and is so fragmentary that it might not even be a lease to begin with.82 Thus, although the use of pulses (to some unknown extent) is attested at some time in the fourth century, this is too vague and too late. Might one argue in rejoinder that pulse–cereal rotations would be so standard as to require no mention in the leases until at least, for some reason, the late fourth century? Decisive against this possibility is the fact that Theophrastus’ recommendation to use pulses in CP 3.20.7 is

79 Theophr. CP 3.20.7: ŒÆd Øa F Œº ıØ Pb a æ a ıººØ N a

Æ (Ka  Ø æÆ æœ ), ‹ø c ŒøºøØ c ŁæØ c Æ Ø . 80 Jarde´ (1925), 86, calls this jache`re verte, distinguished from jache`re morte. 81 Garnsey (1988), 94 n. 15. IG II2 1243, 21–4, also cited by Garnsey, is from the third century. 82 See Appendix 2 for the dating of IG I3 252 by M. Walbank (1974). Jameson (1977–8), p. 130, and Garnsey (1988), 94 n. 15, accept a wrong date in the mid-Wfth century. Professor M. Walbank, in a personal communication in 1995, conWrmed a date in the fourth century, arguing from letter forms.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


second-hand (‘‘they recommend’’ (Œº ıØ )), reXecting a striking unfamiliarity with the practice in fourth-century Attica. Theophrastus instead documented their use only in the very diVerent agricultural conditions of Thessaly and Macedonia.83 Garnsey’s case for pulse–cereal rotation therefore seems to Wnd little support in the ancient evidence. It is now important to stress separate reasons why such a practice would be impossible in ancient Attica. Garnsey himself notes that over the period 1931–60 low rainfall in Attica led to a failure rate of 71% for legumes.84 If this was happening despite the advantages of modern chemical fertilizers and irrigation,85 the rate of failure in antiquity was undoubtedly much greater: on average Attica receives no more than 400 mm of rain each year, while the amount of rainfall required for growing legumes is 350–400 mm.86 High rainfall requirements combined with low average rainfall simply made it impossible to cultivate pulses on a large scale in Attica; pulses could grow only if artiWcially and intensively watered and fertilized.87 Furthermore, because the nitrogen requirements of pulses are higher than those of cereals, they deplete the soil more than cereals if harvested for food or fodder.88 Agricultural experiments in comparable semi-arid conditions and without the use of artiWcial fertilizers show that pulses reduce the yield of cereal crops planted in the same soil in the following year.89 In other words, pulses could only be planted in Attica at the expense of cereals and with intensive watering and fertilizing, and on the reduced scale of the garden (ŒB ).90 It is probably under these limited conditions that the Athenians produced the pulses referred to in Athenian comedy.91 83 Theophr. HP 8.9.1. See also Sallares (1991), 300, for further analysis of Theophrastus’ treatment of pulses. 84 Garnsey (1988), 10. 85 See Sallares (1991), 303. 86 Osborne (1987), 33, Garnsey (1988), 10. 87 Sallares (1991), 300–3. 88 Ibid. 89 In Cyprus: see Sallares (1991), 473 n. 18. Pulses would only have a positive eVect on the soil if they were ploughed in as green manure, as Theophrastus (HP 8.9.1) described was done in Thessaly and Macedonia, in which case they were lost as food. 90 Sallares (1991), 300; Amouretti (1986), 54. 91 See ibid. 56.


Models and Calculations

2. Agro-Pastoral Symbiosis and the Use of Fertilizers Garnsey’s second argument against the use of biennial fallow is that suYcient animal manure was available to fertilize the soil and keep all of it productive every year. He cites several passages as evidence of a symbiosis between Attic livestock and agriculture (Thuc. 2.14; Arist. Pol. 1252b; Xen. Oec. 5.3), but none of these indicates what he claims.92 There is no question that livestock existed in Classical Attica (Thuc. 2.14), and that oxen were used to pull ploughs (Arist. Pol. 1252b),93 but this is all the Wrst two passages indicate. It is enough to quote the third passage to see that it has simply been misread: Secondly, she [the earth] supplies all the things with which they decorate altars and statues and themselves, along with most pleasant scents and sights. And then, there are many edible delicacies: some she produces and others she nourishes. For the art of breeding stock is linked with agriculture in that men can have victims for propitiating the gods with sacriWce and cattle for their own use.94

The key phrase here is: ‘‘the art of breeding stock is linked with agriculture’’ ( æ Æ ı ØŒc  ı B ÆØ fiB ªøæª fi Æ). Taken out of context as evidence for agro-pastoral symbiosis it could not be less explicit; but the passage clearly illustrates its meaning: the earth (the subject from 5.2), just as it produces plants to be used by men both for honouring the gods (by decorating their altars and statues) and for their own delight and consumption, also nourishes animals so that they may be sacriWced to the gods and eaten by men afterwards. This does not imply that agriculture and livestock shared the same land,95 just as it does not mean that men sacriWced animals to the gods and ate their Xesh on a daily basis.96 92 Garnsey (1988), 94 n. 16: another reference included here by Garnsey, Thuc. 7.25.5 (sic), is surely a mistake to begin with. 93 See Sallares (1991), 312, on the number and use of oxen, and on the substitution of oxen by mules for ploughing the light soils of the Mediterranean. 94 Xen. Oec. 5.3 (Loeb trans.): Ø Æ b ‹ Ø Œ  FØ ø f ŒÆd IªºÆ Æ ŒÆd x ÆP d Œ  F ÆØ, ŒÆd ÆF Æ  a   ø OH ŒÆd ŁÆ ø ÆæØ: Ø Æ b ZłÆ  ººa a b Ø, a b æØ: ŒÆd ªaæ  æ Æ ı ØŒc  ı B ÆØ fi B ªøæª fi Æ, u  Ø ŒÆd Ł f KÆæŒŁÆØ Ł Æ ŒÆd ÆP f æBŁÆØ. 95 Pomeroy (1994), 326–7, makes the same misinterpretation of this passage as Garnsey. 96 Eating meat was a luxury and eating too much of it was considered gluttony. See Xen. Mem. 3.14: Socrates jokes that the epitome of greed is to eat your Zł (a

From Crisis to Uncertainty


B. The Conventional Model of Greek Farming Since Garnsey’s arguments have been shown to be unconvincing, we must now examine the evidence supporting what Garnsey dismisses as the ‘‘conventional picture of farming in ancient Greece’’.97

1. Fallowing and the Agricultural Calendar A straightforward reading of the majority of the surviving land-leases shows not only that fallowing was common, but also that the use of pulses was not the rule throughout the Classical period.98 Furthermore, the existence and importance of fallowing is amply attested by our ancient literary sources, both casually and explicitly.99 Ploughing fallow land in preparation for sowing was an important part of the agricultural calendar according to Hesiod, who recommends sowing at the setting of the Pleiades (around 3 November), and harvesting at their rising (around 20 May).100 In preparation for sowing, a farmer must plough the fallow land in the spring and should do the same in the summer.101 This is done in order to break up the earth and make it porous, more absorbent of water and easier for plants to grow in.102 SigniWcantly, Hesiod refers to fallow land as Øe IºØæ Æ ø PŒ º ØæÆ: ‘‘fallow land is an averter of harm and a soother of children’’.103 Homer also speaks of sowing on a fallow Weld,104 and the epic adjective æ  º , ‘‘thriceploughed’’,105 itself implies the same concept of preparing the land in delicacy, usually meat or Wsh) like E (wheat or barley) and to pray to the gods for  ºı ł Æ (a good supply of meat) instead of  ºıŒÆæ Æ (a good harvest). 97 Garnsey (1988), 93. 98 See Appendix 2. 99 The explicit references are discussed here. The most important casual reference is made by Aristotle, who says that after foaling a mare must wait for at least a year before again becoming pregnant. He thus compares the mare to a piece of fallow land:  Æ  K ØÆı e ŒÆd Æ I ªŒ Øƺ Ø ŒÆd  ØE uæ Ø . Aristotle would hardly have used such a simile if biennial fallow was not common. (Arist. Hist. an. 576b.28–577a.1). See also Burford (1994), 663; Lohmann (1992), 29–60. 100 Hes. Op. 383 V.; see Bickerman (1980), 112: Athens is at 388 latitude. 101 Hes. Op. 462. 102 See Theophr. CP 3.20.6–7. 103 Hes. Op. 464. 104 Hom. Il. 10.351 V., 13.702 V., 18.541 V. 105 Used in Hom. Il. 18.542, Od. 5.127, and Hes. Theog. 971.


Models and Calculations

advance in a system of biennial fallow. It should, however, be noted that the evidence seen so far comes from periods and places which, unlike Wfth- and fourth-century Athens, did not face intense population pressure on their local food supplies. Xenophon and Theophrastus, however, show precisely the same process of ploughing fallow land in Wfth- and fourth-century Attica. In the Oeconomicus, when Socrates asks what method produces the greatest yield of barley and wheat, Ischomachus answers that it should be obvious that the method is to plough fallow ground in preparation for sowing ( fiH æfiø e . . . !æª"ŁÆØ), beginning as soon as the soil is dry in the spring.106 Theophrastus ampliWes and explains the same general precept: But speaking on the general level and including all sown crops, the thing of greatest importance and coming Wrst is that the land to be sown should have been well worked, for when the seed falls on thoroughly well-worked land it also comes up, since the soil has been thoroughly tamed . . . The working consists in ploughing in both seasons, both in summer and in winter, so that the soil may be exposed to winter and to the sun, a point we also made in treating the planting of trees. For by being turned up often the soil becomes open-textured, light and free of woody plants, so that it can easily bring up the crop. And for this reason we are told not even to plough pulses ( a æ ) into the fallow ground, unless the pulse is very early, namely so that they may not interfere with the summer ploughing . . . When farmers after the Wrst ploughing plough again in the spring they turn the earth to destroy the weeds that come up, and then plough in summer and plough lightly once more just before sowing, with the idea (as we said) that one must work the land before sowing and make this one’s chief task.107 106 Xen. Oec. 16.10–15. Xenophon also calls this work a ‘‘rejuvenation’’ of the land (   ØE ). In her commentary on the Oeconomicus (1994), 324, Pomeroy assumes without explanation that ploughing fallow land was a method used only for ‘‘intensive exploitation of the land’’. 107 Theophr. CP 3.20.6–8: ‰ b Œ Ø fi B ŒÆd ŒÆŁº ı AØ NE , ªØ b ŒÆd æH  K Ø c  æı c æÆ ŒÆ ØæªŁÆØ ŒÆºH, N ØØæªÆ ªaæ ŒÆºH e e æÆ, ŒÆd KŒ ÆØ, Ø æøŁ   B ªB . . .  b ŒÆ æªÆ Æ K fiH fi A ŒÆ I æÆ a uæÆ ŒÆd Łæ ı ŒÆd ØH  ‹ø ØÆŁfi B ŒÆd ºØøŁfiB  ªB ŒÆŁæ ŒÆd Kd B ı  Æ KºŁ :  ººŒØ ªaæ  Æº ŁEÆ Æ c ŒÆd Œ  ŒÆd ŒÆŁÆæa ª  ÆØ B oº  u  Þfi Æ ø KŒ æØ : ŒÆd Øa F Œº ıØ Pb a æ a ıººØ N a Æ (Ka  Ø æÆ æœ ), ‹ø c ŒøºøØ c ŁæØ c Æ Ø . . . ŒÆd ‹ Æ  a f æ ı Iæ ı øØ ºØ F qæ   ƺº ıØ ‹ø c I Æı  Æ I ºøØ , r Æ ŁæØ Iæ FØ ŒÆd ºØ

From Crisis to Uncertainty


These statements constitute the best positive evidence for the widespread use of the biennial system in the Classical period. Ploughing fallow land occurred in the spring, or even in the winter, and continued throughout the summer.108 SigniWcantly, Theophrastus mentions ploughing pulses ( a æ ) into the fallow ground,109 but Xenophon says the same about grass (Æ) and weeds generally (oº ).110 All three terms are equivalent and indiVerent ways of referring to vegetation which is useful as nothing more than fertilizer (Œæ , in the wide sense of the word) on fallow ground.111 Finally, the possibility of an alternate model of cultivation involving a period of short fallow with sowing in spring must brieXy be considered. This method is highly uncertain given the stress by Hesiod and Xenophon on the importance of sowing in autumn. Sowing in spring is mentioned by Hesiod as a remedial measure only for those unable to sow properly in autumn.112 According to Xenophon, autumn (or the rainy season in general) is the season that is widely known to be the best for sowing after the experimentation of generations of farmers: And now as to the time for sowing, Socrates, is it not your opinion that the time to sow is that which has been invariably found to be the best by past experience, and is universally found to be the best by present experience as well? For as soon as autumn comes, all men, I suppose, look anxiously to God, to see when he will send rain on the earth and make them free to sow.113

Theophrastus mentions some varieties of wheat that take less time to grow than the regular kinds (they were called dimenoi and trimenoi from the time they took to grow) and which could therefore be used ‹ Æ ººøØ  æØ !æ Æ ‰  ŒÆŁæ KºŁ æ ŒÆ æªÆŁÆØ ŒÆd æd

F ºØ Æ  ıÆØ. 108 For a fuller description, see Amouretti (1986), 57–8. 109 For this interpretation, see the discussion on pp. 15–16 above. 110 Xen. Oec. 16.12–13. 111 See Amouretti (1986), 62–3. 112 Hes. Op. 485 V. 113 Xen. Oec. 17.1–2: —æ ª  Ø F æ ı uæÆ ¼ºº Ø,  , t ŒæÆ , ªØª ŒØ j c uæÆ  æØ w   b ƒ æŁ ¼ Łæø Ø EæÆ ºÆ ,   b ƒ F ºÆÆ  , Kª ŒÆØ ŒæÆ  r ÆØ; KØa ªaæ ›  øæØ e æ  ºŁfi ,    ı ƒ ¼ Łæø Ø æe e Łe I º ıØ, ›  æÆ c ªB IØ ÆP f  æØ . This is explicitly said to be common practice: 17.3.


Models and Calculations

in spring sowing; however, Theophrastus also mentions that they produced only low yields.114 And (as we have just seen) they would also interfere with the ploughing and preparation of the land in preparation for the autumn. In short, the evidence from Hesiod, Xenophon, and Theophrastus shows that sowing in the spring was not a recommended practice. The obvious conclusion is that the widespread use of an agricultural calendar like that of Ischomachus (beginning to plough fallow land in spring, and harvesting the year’s main crop in late spring and early summer) required two plots and a system of biennial fallow.115

2. InsuYciency of Fertilizers Just as Cicero observed that Hesiod does not mention animal manure, we realize the same thing from reading Xenophon.116 The only fertilizers mentioned are grass and weeds (ploughed in and spread as green manure before they seed in the spring), in addition to the Wrst shoots of the newly planted stalk (ploughed in for the same purpose).117 The dung heap mentioned in the Oeconomicus is explicitly said to be a collection of weeds and vegetable refuse collected by the farmer and placed in pools of stagnant water.118 The complete omission of animal manure as a fertilizer by Xenophon casts serious doubt on the existence of the agro-pastoral model of Hodkinson and Garnsey.119 Pomeroy is probably wrong to assume that ‘‘the use of animal waste will have been so obvious to readers of the Oeconomicus as not to require discussion’’120—a point which is made invalid by Ischomachus’ and Socrates’ frequent assertions that the methods they describe are not only widely used but obvious to anyone, even to a non-farmer like Socrates.121 Only Theophrastus mentions the use of 114 Theophr. HP 8.4.4 and CP 4.11.3; Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 24, doubt that these crops were signiWcant. 115 Guiraud has the same interpretation: see Pomeroy (1994), 325. 116 Cic. Sen. 15.53–4. 117 Xen. Oec. 16.12–13, 17.10. 118 Xen. Oec. 20.10–11. 119 See Hodkinson (1988), 35–74. 120 Pomeroy (1994), 362. 121 In 15.10–11 Ischomachus says that one can learn farming easily, just from watching. In 16.1–2 he says that people wrongly suppose that the hardest thing about

From Crisis to Uncertainty


manure in agriculture, but it is crucial to note that this is in direct reference to arboriculture, not cereal cultivation.122 These passages show that manuring occurred using just the human and animal manure that could be collected in the homestead: this was relatively little in comparison to the manure produced by a herd of animals.123 Even the discovery of pottery scatters in survey archaeology does not, in my view, settle the question of the scale of manuring.124 If anything, the evidence from Attica, combined with the above passage of Theophrastus, settles the point that the Athenians engaged in intensive arboriculture for a market in cash crops (as we will examine in detail in the following chapter). The competition between domestic animals and humans over food on the same limited land is the best argument for the separation of livestock breeding and agriculture.125 In Attica, low rainfall severely limits the amount of natural growth available for large-scale pasturage on fallow land. Not even stubble was available for grazing, since it was considered preferable to burn it and plough it in as fertilizer.126 Consequently, a stock of domestic animals would have to be fed in stables so that their manure could be gathered and spread in suYcient quantity. However, the food competition thus incurred by far outweighs any beneWts from higher soil productivity or from consuming the animals or their produce.127 Since all the evidence points to the absence of pulses and the shortage of animal manure in Classical Attica, biennial fallow must

farming is knowing the nature of the soil. Throughout the work it is emphasized that farming is a matter of common sense. The appeal of the work is to an elite of urbane fourth-century gentlemen, to whom much of what Xenophon says would indeed be far from obvious. 122 Theophr. HP 2.7.4, CP 3.9.4–5. See Amouretti (1986), 62. 123 Human waste and bird droppings (suggested by Pomeroy (1994), 362) cannot come close to adding up to the amounts regularly needed for the purposes of farming areas larger than a garden, and reference to farm animals does not by itself indicate the widespread use of large quantities of their manure to make any appreciable diVerence in farming. 124 See, Chapter 2, p. 55 and n. 72. 125 Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 110–11, Sallares (1991), 311–13, 383–5. 126 Xen. Oec. 18.2; see Pomeroy (1994), 331–2, who is right to emphasize the hazards inherent in this practice, which is obviously inimical to polyculture. 127 Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 112; cf. Sallares (1991), 311.


Models and Calculations

be accepted as the predominant means of preserving soil fertility. We must therefore conclude that half of the land of Attica was actually cultivated each year.

C. Land Division and Crop Proportions Surviving literary evidence attests fairly well to the fact that most of the population of Classical Attica lived in the countryside, but it is still uncertain how cultivable land was divided among this number.128 Considering the high variability in climate from area to area and from year to year, the most important farming strategies may have been polyculture,129 and (for those who could aVord it) the cultivation of relatively small plots of land scattered over a wide area.130 The exact proportion of cultivation between the two staples and their intercultivation with other crops is unknown, although there is important evidence that indicates that barley was the most popular staple. SigniWcantly, the recently discovered Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 straightforwardly gives the weight of one medimnos of barley as one Attic talent; this neat correspondence, on the other hand, did not apply to wheat.131 Other casual references in ancient literature better attest to the importance of barley in the religious and civic life of Athens.132 Theophrastus (HP 8.8.2) mentions that Attica was the best land for growing barley (ŒæØŁ æ  ªaæ Iæ  ). Indeed, Sallares has

128 Thuc. 2.14–16; see also Dion. Hal., Lys. 32. 129 See e.g. Xen. Oec. 19.1, with Sallares (1991), 305; cf. 301: ‘‘The importance of multiple cropping systems in antiquity will be emphasized in this chapter, but in the sense of growing more than one crop on the same plot of land at the same time, not in the sense of crop rotation systems’’. 130 Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 8, point out that this is the case with subtechnological systems of agriculture in general: ‘‘It is only with the industrialization of agriculture in the most recent past that the considerable parceling-out of land has turned out to be a deWnite impediment for further development’’. See also Forbes (1976), 5–11. 131 GHI II 26 (see Appendix 3), ll. 21–5. I owe this insight to M. H. Hansen. 132 See Sallares (1991) 314 n. 65, on Isae. 11.43, [Dem.] 42.20, Paus. 1.38.6, and Dem. 55.24; cf. n. 66 on Ath. 4.137e; scholiast to Pind. Ol. 9.150 and Hymn. Hom. Cer. 309, 452. See also Ar. Vesp. 715–18: the grain donation consisted of  ØŒ of barley.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


shown how the factors of high population density and high interannual rainfall variability probably combined in Classical Attica to ensure the predominance of barley: wheat was more susceptible to crop failure than barley.133 Nevertheless, the actual ratio of cultivation between barley and wheat ultimately falls to a guess (for the reasons already discussed, culling numbers from IG II2 1672 is misleading134): I have chosen 4:1 over the Wgure of 3:1 in Sallares.135 Garnsey is right when he says that diVerences in this Wgure do not amount to great contrasts in the Wnal calculation of carrying capacity anyway;136 but this holds true only in those years with suYcient rainfall to sustain both crops: a year of low rainfall would strike the cereal production of Attica less harshly the more land was under barley. It is even more diYcult to determine the proportional importance of other crops in Attic agriculture. As Sallares points out, modern data on land use do not help very much: a good portion of the countryside of modern Attica is devoted to the cultivation of cashcrops like citrus fruits, tomatoes, and tobacco, which did not exist in ancient Greece.137 Vines (which today grow over a larger area than wheat, the main modern staple) are a perfect example of this very high level of cultivation of cash-crops.138 The reason for this major shift is that modern Athens provides both the demand for cash-crops as well as suYcient and reliably imported staple foods for those who grow them.139 We shall see that roughly similar conditions existed in Classical Athens in Chapter 2, where our best evidence for the production of Attic cash-crops is not comparative, but archaeological and literary. 133 Barley has large seeds that are hard to mill and is therefore ill-suited for bread making—it was probably consumed as porridge: Jarde´ (1925), 122–3, discusses the increasing importance of the ¼æ  (or wheat bread) over the traditional A"Æ (milk and barley cake) in the Athenian diet: ‘‘. . . la maza n’est consomme´e que par les pauvres diables’’. Sallares (1991), 315, 321; Ar. Vesp. 715–18 nevertheless shows a clear preference for wheat over barley. For the rainfall requirements of each grain, see n. 148 below; the average yearly rainfall level in Attica is less than 400 mm per year (Osborne (1987), 33 and map on p. 32). 134 Cf. Garnsey (1988), 102–4; Sallares (1991), 314, 394; Jarde´ (1925), 36–41, 96 n. 2. 135 Sallares (1991), 79 (see Table 1): the Wgure seems truly puzzling given Sallares’ arguments for the degree of predominance of barley on pp. 313–16. 136 Garnsey (1988), 102–5. 137 Sallares (1991), 54. 138 Ibid. 296–7. 139 Ibid. 297.


Models and Calculations I I I . C RO P Y I E L D S

Before attempting an estimate of how much grain Attic soil usually yielded, we must keep in mind the important caveat that ancient crop yields cannot be based on their modern equivalents with any certainty.140 Only when a seed:yield ratio is given along with information on sowing rates, can we be sure that information in our sources is not misleading. Thus, when Columella gives a seed:yield ratio of 1:4 and a sowing rate of 126 kg/ha Sallares is justiWed in calculating that the gross yield-per-hectare for the greater part of Italy (‘‘maiore . . . parte Italiae’’) was 500 kg/ha. He then uses this Wgure as a rough guideline for what good soils in the Classical Mediterranean could produce.141 After a full comparative study of pre-industrial Mediterranean agricultures, Sallares proposes 650 kg/ ha as the limit that even the best ancient soils rarely exceeded.142 In addition to the 1:4 ratio found in Columella as a maximum for Italy, Cicero tells us that a yield of 1:10 in the proverbially fertile ager Leontinus in Sicily was considered miraculous in Wrst century bc (‘‘achieved with the help of all the gods’’), and a yield of 1:8 above average (‘‘if everything goes well’’).143 The average yield for the ager Leontinus was therefore lower, probably about 1:6,144 setting the ceiling for average seed:yield ratios in the Classical Mediterranean.145 This demonstrates that Osborne’s estimate of a possible 1:10 seed: yield ratio for Athens in the Wfth and fourth centuries is probably wrong. Garnsey’s seed:yield Wgures are much more conservative than Osborne’s but his yield Wgures are similarly impossible (see Table 1). More secure evidence for Attic productivity comes from the fact that seed:yield Wgures in medieval and early modern Greece were 140 Ibid. 294: ‘‘Over 90% of the wheat grown in Greece today consists of varieties that have been introduced or artiWcially bred within the last seventy years or so’’. 141 Columella Rust. 2.9.1, 3.3.4: see Sallares (1991), 374–5, 497. 142 Sallares (1991), 389. 143 Cic. Verr. 2.3.112: ager eYcit cum octavo, bene ut agatur; verum ut omnes di adiuvent, cum decumo. 144 See Sallares (1991), 497. Roman Sicily must have enjoyed crop yields at least as good as, if not better than, those of the Classical period (cf. Strab. 6.2.7). 145 See Jarde´ (1925), 59: ‘‘La chiVre minimum donne´e pour la Sicile . . . doit eˆtre un maximum pour la Gre`ce’’.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


between 1:3 and 1:5.146 Considering the Wgures from Campania and Sicily, I accept for the sake of argument an optimistic Wgure towards the high end of Sallares’ estimates: i.e. total yield of 600 kg/ha, and seed:yield of 1:5.147 The predominant climatic and soil conditions in Attica have important consequences for the productivity of Attic soil. Because the average annual rainfall level is 400 mm, very close to the minimum amount required by the most important staples, Attica suVered from a permanent and considerable risk of crop failure.148 Statistically, the percentage probability of failure between 1931 and 1960 for barley, wheat, and dry legumes in Attica was 5.5%, 28%, and 71%, respectively;149 without the beneWts of modern fertilizers the probability of crop failure in Classical times would clearly have been much higher. The consequence of the great geographic and yearly variability of ancient climatic conditions, if similar to modern conditions, was likewise problematic for agriculture. There is an inverse relation between rainfall and variability: the lower the rainfall the greater its variability tends to be.150 Thus, the Attic farmer not only had to deal with very little rainfall, but also with a correspondingly very high uncertainty about how little there would be: few areas in modern Greece receive rainfall that does not vary by more than 60% from year to year.151 Furthermore, a passage from Aristotle reXects enormous geographical variation, even over very small distances: . . . years are sometimes rainy and wet, sometimes windy and dry. And sometimes drought or rain is widespread and covers a large area of the country; sometimes it is only local; for often in the country all around the seasonal rainfall is normal or even above the normal, while in some districts of it there is a drought; at other times, on the other hand, the rainfall in the country all around is meager, or there is even a tendency to drought, while in a single district the rainfall is abundant in quantity.152 146 Sallares (1991), 375. See Jarde´ (1925), 59, for comparable yields in Spain, Italy, Algeria, Bulgaria, Serbia, and Romania in 1911. 147 See Sallares (1991), 79. 148 Modern barley requires a minimum of 200 mm of rain per year, wheat at least 300 mm, and legumes at least 400 mm: see Osborne (1987), 33; Garnsey (1988), 10. 149 Ibid. 10. 150 Sallares (1991), 390. 151 Osborne (1987), 33–4. 152 Arist. Mete. 360b4–12; see Osborne (1987), 33.


Models and Calculations

Poor soil conditions, combined with the constant risk of crop failure and uncertainty as to its geographical and yearly extent, seem to preclude a stable and regular home supply of grain to Classical Athens.

I V. PO P U L AT I O N The main diYculty with ascertaining the number of people living in Attica is the fact that there was no centralized citizen register, no counts of metics except for the purpose of taxation, and no counts of slaves at all.153 The most reliable work on this very complicated problem is by Hansen, who examines the more abundant pool of data from the fourth century.154 Hansen bases his estimate on seven diVerent sources: (1) rough literary estimates, almost topoi;155 (2) three references to oYcial counts in the late fourth century;156 (3) army Wgures from several passages in Diodorus, one passage in Xenophon, and one in Polybius;157 (4) naval Wgures;158 (5) numbers of reported recipients of donations of grain or money among Athenian citizens;159 (6) surviving ephebic inscriptions for 334–24;160 and (7) estimates of citizen numbers required to run the Council of Five Hundred, using as evidence passages in Arist. Ath. Pol. and the bouleutic lists.161 Relying on one of the sources on the army (Diod. 18.10–11), on the fragment of Ctesicles on the exetasmos carried out under Demetrius of Phaleron, and especially on the analysis of the population prerequisites of the Cleisthenic council, Hansen uses the demographic models of Coale and Demeny to determine the most 153 Hansen (1999), 90. 154 Hansen (1985, 1999). 155 Hansen (1985), 26–7: Ar. Eccl. 1131–3; Hdt. 5.97.2; [Pl.] Axiochus 369a; Pl. Symp. 175e; Men. Epitr. 1088; Arr. Anab. 7.6.1; [Dem.] 25.51. 156 Hansen (1985), 28–36: Diod. 18.18.5 and Plut. Phoc. 28.7 (which contradict each other) for 322/1, and Ath. 6.272c ¼ Ctesicles FGrHist 245 F1 for 317–307. 157 Hansen (1985), 36–43, in chronological order: Xen. Hell. 4.2.17; Diod. 15.26.2, 29.7; Polyb. 2.62.6; Diod. 15.63.2, 84.2; 16.37.3; 18.10.2, 11.3. 158 Hansen (1985), 43–5: Dem. 3.4, for 352 and Diod. 15.34.5, Aeschin. 3.222 and Xen. Hell. 5.4.61 for 376. 159 Hansen (1985), 45–7: Philoch. FGrHist 328 F119 and [Plut.] X orat. 843d. 160 See Hansen (1985), 47–50. 161 See ibid. 51–64.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


likely patterns of age distribution reXected in the sources and concludes that the number of adult male Athenian citizens in the fourth century was approximately 30,000.162 This Wgure would translate into a total citizen population, including women and children, of about 100,000.163 For the number of metics and slaves, the fragment of Ctesicles gives 10,000 metics and 400,000 slaves. Hansen accepts the Wrst Wgure as the likely number of able-bodied, long-term metics,164 and argues (in my view, convincingly) that these stand for a total of about 40,000 longterm metics.165 He correctly points out that although there are no grounds for questioning the transmission of the second Wgure, the number does not belong with the Wrst two Wgures, for two reasons: (1) the fact that adult male slaves were not enlisted in the army suggests that the state would have no interest in counting them; and (2) the fact that women and children are implied in the number 400,000, whereas this is not the case for the other Wgures in the exetasmos. Hansen therefore concludes that the number 400,000 comes from a source other than a census and dismisses the Wgure as unreliable.166 He is more attracted by Hyperides’ guess that there were more than 150,000 adult male slaves.167 He takes this as the most realistic Athenian guess for the number of all slaves, believing that Hyperides perceived that there were more slaves than free persons in Attica during the fourth century. But this is rather too impressionistic a calculation of Athenian slave numbers for our purpose, especially since slave numbers are crucial to any theory of intensive agriculture.168 Sargent’s seminal work still provides the most reliable estimate, because slave numbers 162 Hansen (1985), 9–13, 64–9: the population oscillated between a minimum of c.25,000 and c.30,000 during the fourth century; Hansen (1999), 90–4, settles for 30,000. 163 Ibid. 93. 164 Hansen (1985), 31–4. 165 Hansen (1999), 93. 166 Hansen (1985), 30–1. 167 Ibid. Hyp. fr. 29 (Jensen). 168 See Jameson (1977–8); Wood (1983), 1–47; see also Garnsey (1988), 89–90, Osborne (1987), 46. Sallares (1991), 53–60, and Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 110–114 disagree with a model of intensive slave labour, arguing that the hiring of seasonal wage labour would have been a more cost-eVective practice than maintaining slaves year-round.


Models and Calculations

surely ‘‘varied considerably at diVerent periods . . . and stood in direct relation to the size of the free population and the general economic conditions’’.169 This methodology of proportionality and of diVerentiation between individual sectors of ownership (public, household, agriculture, mining, and other industry) is not only sound, but also yields conservative results, useful in achieving minimum estimates of population and consumption.170 I am therefore inclined to accept that if the total free population in 432/1 was 208,500 (Eduard Meyer’s Wgure), then the number of slaves, including children, was around 97,000; for the period from 415 to 394, this number will have been reduced to approximately 32,000; and in the last half of the fourth century the number will have risen again to approximately 65,000.171 Hansen’s calculations amount to a total population for fourthcentury Athens of approximately 300,000 people.172 But, if instead of 150,000 slaves, we accept numbers of the order calculated by Sargent, an approximate total population for the last half of the fourth century comes to 205,000. We must work back to arrive at a population Wgure for the Wfth century, where we have far less evidence than in the fourth. The classic monograph by Gomme has now been rendered obsolete by the demographic modelling applied by Hansen.173 A reverse calculation of Wfth-century population from the more secure Wgures of the fourth century is the best approach.174 This involves Wnding, for the year 432/1, a number of citizens that is not only compatible with the high war casualties reported by Thucydides and Xenophon, but will also result in a citizen population of minimum 25,000 in 403, the basic number required to run the Athenian democratic institutions.175 Hansen estimates this as a minimum of 60,000.176 This would translate into a total citizen population of 200,000 (not very diVerent from E. Meyer’s estimate above!) so that by adding Sargent’s estimated 97,000 slaves and then safely assuming that the number of metics calculated from the fourth-century exetasmos implies at least 169 170 171 172 174

Sargent (1925), 126. See the range of estimates reproduced in Vogt (1974), 4. Sargent (1925), 63 (giving E. Meyer’s Wgures), 126–8. Hansen (1999), 93–4. 173 Gomme (1933). See Hansen (1988b). 175 Ibid. 26. 176 Ibid. 26–7.

From Crisis to Uncertainty


an equal number in the Wfth century, we arrive at a conservative total population estimate of 337,000 at the beginning of the Peloponnesian War.177

V. CONSUMPTION The most recent and complete study of the role of cereals in the ancient Greek diet is by Foxhall and Forbes.178 Based on extensive comparative nutritional analysis, these scholars conclude that one choinix, the most widely attested daily ration in Classical times, is too high a consumption Wgure except for adult males at a high level of activity.179 The study therefore claims that the choinix was more properly a standard distributed quantity, part of which would be stored and not consumed. Nevertheless, this would still indicate that grain played a far more important role in the Classical diet than in our own, contributing on average as much as 70% to 75% of daily calories (the remainder coming principally from Wsh, olives, cheese, and wine).180 Low protein intake was supplemented by large rations of carbohydrates.181 Although the lack of demographic data leaves no safe way of accounting for the diets of the diVerent age/sex groups in the Athenian population, Foxhall and Forbes calculate the consumption of a hypothetical ancient Greek household and arrive at an average per capita nutritional requirement (2,169 calories per day, or about 237 kg of wheat per year providing 75% of these calories).182

177 On metics, see Gomme (1933), 25 n. 4 (I use a coeYcient of 4 instead of 3 to arrive at a total, which I then round up; I still consider the result a minimum). 178 Foxhall and Forbes (1982). 179 Ibid. 73. 180 Ibid. 69, 75; cf. Evans (1980), 152–8, who argues that cereals constituted 50% of Roman caloriWc intake. 181 Foxhall and Forbes (1982), 75; Sallares (1991), 301; note that Wsh, usually a dependable source of protein in coastal areas and common in Piraeus (e.g. Ath. 7.285d; Ar. Vesp. 491 ff.), has been neglected by both of these works: however, see Gallant (1991), 120–1. 182 Foxhall and Forbes (1982), 49, 70–2.


Models and Calculations

SigniWcantly, the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 now shows that ancient strains of wheat and barley were considerably (i.e. 30%) lighter than previously thought.183 One choinix of wheat of 687 grams per day results in approximately 251 kg of wheat per capita per year (or 7.6 medimnoi of wheat). Women, children, and slaves would have received half-rations, the nutritional equivalent of one choinix of barley of approximately 572 grams a day, which equals 209 kg per year (or 7.6 medimnoi of barley).184 The new weights therefore result in a choinix whose nutritional value closely coincides with the average per capita nutritional requirement calculated by Foxhall and Forbes.

V I . C ON C LU S I ON Though we are unable to calculate any of the variables with exactitude, our best estimates amount to the results seen in the last column of Table 1. Attica could sustain between 52,000 and 106,000 people, with a Wgure in the upper end of the range being preferable (I adopt 84,000). These results seem independently to conWrm Demosthenes’ Wgure of 800,000 medimnoi (26,368 tons of wheat) as the yearly imports to mid-fourth-century Athens.185 This was enough grain to 183 GHI II 26 (see Appendix 3), ll. 21–5. 184 Thuc. 4.16 (1 choinix of barley per day for attendants of Spartans on Sphacteria), Ath. 6.272b–c (slaves at Corinth); IG XII. 7.515, l. 74 (half-ration for children). Two choinikes of barley were perceived as the nutritional equivalent of one choinix of wheat (cf. Hdt. 7.187 with 6.57 and Thuc. 4.16). 185 This involves taking Dem. 20.31: æe ı –Æ Æ e KŒ H ¼ººø K æ ø IØŒ  › KŒ F — ı E  Nºø K (‘‘Now the grain that arrives from the Pontus is equal to the whole amount from the other emporia’’) with Dem. 20.32: ƃ ı Ææ KŒ ı Fæ IØŒ  ÆØ  ı ıæØ æd

ÆæŒ N (‘‘Now from him [Leucon] there come here [Athens] about four hundred thousand medimnoi’’). Pace Garnsey (1988), 97, the context makes absolutely clear that a per annum Wgure is indicated: Athens regularly consumes more imported grain than any other city (20.31); amounts are veriWable from public accounts (20.32); in a previous year of shortage (357) Leucon had sent an additional amount of grain, meaning there is no reason to consider 400,000 medimnoi a special shipment (20.33). M. H. Hansen has pointed out to me that, put together literally, the two passages indicate that, since Leucon is just one of the Pontic (i.e. Black Sea) exporters, then (400,000 þ x) must equal the amount imported from the Black Sea, and the total imports to Athens must therefore be twice (400,000 þ x),

From Crisis to Uncertainty


feed at least 105,263 males according to the consumption rate just calculated. Garnsey’s views on Attic grain production lead to much less satisfactory results, in fact to what should always be the last resort of the ancient historian: the complete dismissal of a source (in this case Demosthenes) as one of ‘‘dubious value’’.186 Are we back at least from crisis to uncertainty? But let us now leave the armchair. The rest of this book will examine the evidence from archaeology and the rich corpus of Attic oratory in order to illustrate the full importance of grain imports to the politics and economy of Classical Athens. i.e. more than 800,000 medimnoi. But the word ‘‘Pontus’’ could be used in the fourth century to mean the Bosporan kingdom (e.g. Din. 1.43: e ƺŒ F K Iª æfi A  BÆØ ´ æØ ŒÆd  ıæ ŒÆd ˆæªØ f KŒ F — ı ıæ

ı), and, if the exact amounts were (as he says) veriWable, Demosthenes had little to gain and much to lose by manipulating Wgures here. 186 See Garnsey (1988), 97.

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Part II Archaeology

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2 Euonymon: The Agriculture and Economy of the Classical Athenian Deme The agricultural use of that part of the Attic countryside which in Classical times stretched away from the fortiWcations of the asty to the coast and the surrounding mountains of Aigaleos, Parnes, Pentelikon, and Hymettos, should be of fundamental interest to students of Athenian economic and social history. Dominated by the Acropolis rising at its centre, and crossed by the River Kephissos (and its main tributary, the Ilissos), this plain constituted a large fraction (approximately 25%) of the total cultivable area of Classical Attica.1 This was also the agricultural nucleus of the Athenian polis, both in the real sense of being the centre of agricultural production, and in the symbolic sense that made it especially unbearable to abandon it to the enemy during the Peloponnesian War.2 Yet, considering the 1 310 km2 as the approximate area of the pedion can be derived from topographical maps, e.g. the 1:150,000 compiled by Traill (2000), measuring from Acharnae in the north to Halai Aixondies in the south, and following the 990 ft. (300 m) contour of Hymettos to the east. For comparison, other cultivable areas calculated from the same map are: Mesogaia ¼ 330 km2 (26% of the total cultivable area); Paralia=Laurium area ¼ 200 km2 (16%); Eleusis=Thriasian plain ¼ 140 km2 (11%); Oropos ¼ 100 km2 (8%); Marathon=Rhamnous ¼ 100 km2 (8%); Diakris=Aphidna area 80 km2 (6%). 2 See especially Thuc. 2.21. In his study of this and other relevant passages (mostly from Thucydides and Aristophanes), Hanson (1998: 131–84) has convincingly shown that actual crop destruction was a relatively minor factor in causing the very real distress felt by the Athenians and reXected in their texts: (p. 179) ‘‘the threat, rather than the actuality, of agricultural devastation was the key, as ravaging in the classical period was more a means to start battle or induce capitulation than an end in itself’’. In 430 the Peloponnesian army moved from the pedion to the paralia and south to Laurium, ravaging Euonymon and its neighbours: Thuc. 2.55 with Rhodes (1993), 185.



Map 1. The Athenian plain.

remarkable progress now being made in the study of the ancient Greek countryside, it is lamentable that the Athenian plain has been the focus of little scholarly attention since the pioneering works of Bradford and Eliot some four decades ago.3 This can be explained in great part by the beginning of intensive survey archaeology in Greece 3 Bradford (1956, 1957); Eliot (1962).



only in the 1970s, long after the Athenian plain had been urbanized.4 This area is consequently outside the normal spheres of both city and countryside archaeologists, stuck in a no man’s land beneath the congested and sprawling suburbs of modern Athens.5 The aim of this chapter is to demonstrate how abundantly this most overlooked area of Attica repays closer study. Given the almost complete lack of relevant textual evidence, the scattered archaeological Wnds are our principal guide, but aerial photography, the descriptions of early-modern travelers, and the nineteenth-century archaeological survey maps of the German Archaeological Institute add enormously to the picture, especially in agricultural and topographic terms. We have, in addition, detailed information concerning agricultural practice on parts of this land before industrialization and urbanization. As the entire area of the Athenian plain is far too extensive to survey in this way, we will concentrate only on a part stretching to the south of the ancient city between Mount Hymettos and the Saronic gulf, and occupying an area now widely accepted as the site of the ancient deme Euonymon.

I . E U O N Y M O N : G E N E R A L OVE RV I EW Euonymon was a large deme of the tribe Erechtheis, represented during the Classical Period by ten bouleutai in the Council of Five Hundred, and forming a city trittys with the demes Upper and Lower Agryle, Themakos, and Kedoi.6 Euonymon’s location, according to Traill’s authoritative work on the Attic demes, has been ‘‘identiWed with certainty’’ as an area some distance inland from the coast, 4 See map in Philippson (1952). For Attic survey, the best and most recent example is by Lohmann (1993) in the deme Atene, near Sunium. See Snodgrass (1990), 113–19 for Boeotia. For a short survey of surveys and their history, see Alcock et al., (1994) 137–42 (Wgs. 8.1–8.3). 5 A look at the recent 1:50,000 Attica map (by Road Editions S.A.), including the newly inaugurated Elef. Venizelos Athens International Airport at Spata (Mesogaia), demonstrates the near-complete transformation of all of Attica into an urban or (at best) suburban landscape. 6 Traill (1986), 125. Euonymon’s bouleutic quota was raised to twelve in 307–6; it appears among the ten largest Attic demes in Traill’s ranking: (1975), 67.



Fig. 1. Trachones (Euonymon). Left: E. Curtius and J. Kaupert (eds.), Karten von Attika, IV. Right: British School at Athens Archives, U4 Royal Air Force 4018.

bordered on the west and south by two demes also ‘‘identiWed with certainty’’, namely the city deme Halimous and the coastal deme Aixone.7 The Upper Pirnari valley and the western slopes of Mount 7 Traill (1986), 125, 130, 136. On Aixone, see esp. Eliot (1962), 6–24. See also Mersch (1996) (a recent but sometimes inaccurate and inexhaustive compilation of the archaeological litreature supplementing Petropoulakou and Pentazos (1973), 131–5), 100–2, 122–3, 125–31.



Hymettos (on the other side of which lay the deme Sphettos) formed the eastern boundary, while another deme centred at Kara (perhaps corresponding to Themakos or Kedoi) lay to the north.8 The deme Phaleron probably bordered on the northwest.9 A Thiessen polygon (formed by the perpendicular bisectors of straight lines drawn 8 Traill (1986), 125–6. See Mersch (1996), 134. 9 Traill (1986), 138. It is also possible that Alopeke shared this northern, or northwestern border (see Lohmann (1996), col. 259).



between the centre of Euonymon and each of its neighbours) can provide a hypothetical notion of these boundaries, such that any location within the enclosed space is closer to Euonymon’s centre than to any other point.10 The total territorial area of the deme provided by this notional model is approximately 15 km2. Since Milchho¨fer in 1907 and Papagiannopoulos in 1929, the centre of Euonymon has traditionally been identiWed with the hill about 2 km north of the old international airport at Helleniko where the main buildings of the farm Trachones have stood for at least two centuries, and the pretty Church of the Presentation (¯NØÆ ¨ Œ ı) since Byzantine times. The site appears in KvA as well as aerial photographs (see Figure 1).11 The basis of its identiWcation with the deme is a number of funerary inscriptions belonging to demesmen of Euonymon found in the vicinity, especially one seen by Milchho¨fer in 1896 used as the doorstep of the ‘‘village church of Trachones’’ (‘‘Dorfkirche von Trachones’’).12 The discovery in 1975 10 This type of ‘‘natural/nearest neighbour’’ model is currently being used to map the hypothetical political landscape of Boeotia: cf. BintliV (1999), 15 V. (who also presents a Thiessen-polygon map of all the Attic rural demes, including Euonymon (p. 26, Wg. 11) with methodological comments by Moreno (2002), 485–6). See also Helly (1999), 110–15, on the Thessalian plain. 11 On the photographs generally, see below. This photograph was taken by the Royal Air Force from an altitude of 7,600 m at 8.45 am on 25 June 1944 (BSA Archives U4 RAF 4018). The road cutting diagonally across the photograph is modern Leophoros Vouliagmenis. The main cultivated area of the property is left of the centre, with the main house at its northwestern corner. Ancient terracing and Weld divisions are visible on the top right. Note the edge of Helleniko Airport (with LuftwaVe units) on the bottom right. The map labels Ancient Remains ‘‘A.R.’’, stone mounds as ‘‘Grabh[u¨gel]’’, wells as ‘‘Brunnen’’, cisterns as ‘‘Cis’’ lime kilns as ‘‘Kalk[o¨fen]’’. 12 IG II2 6195 (‘‘In vico Trachones, in ecclesia’’): ½  j $¸?]˚[ˇ& j ¯&]˝&¯&[]. Milchho¨fer (1907), col. 1157, reporting the visit in 1896; Papagiannopoulos (1929: 171) reports seeing the inscription himself ‘‘in the same place’’ twenty years later, but I failed to Wnd it during a visit to the Eisodia with other members of the British School on 10 March 2000. The inscription has therefore either been removed, or Milchho¨fer’s ‘‘Dorfkirche’’ is not the same as the Eisodia. An attractive alternative for the Dorfkirche at Wrst sight is the ruin that Milchho¨fer had referred to (1883: 29) as follows: ‘‘Rechts von dem Wege, welcher sich in su¨dlicher Richtung fortsetzt, Wndet man kurz vor Trachones die Ruine einer dachlosen Kapelle, welche in eine antike Grabanlage hineingebaut worden war. Die Umfassungsmauern aus Conglomeratstein sind alt. Mehrere Grabsteine, Cippen und Reste von Grabinschriften Wnden sich noch darin. Eine der Grabstelen zeigt einen Mann vom Knappen und Hunde begleitet, daru¨ber zersto¨rte Inschrift. Auf einer anderen Stele mit Palmettenbekro¨nung, links gebrochen, liest man: `] [ ØŒº]  [j ¯]Pø ı [¼ IG II2 6158].’’ But it is unlikely that a ruin in 1883 could become a ‘‘Dorfkirche’’ in 1896



of the remains of an orthogonal stone theatre of the Classical Period 200 m to the east of the hill seemed to conWrm the identiWcation of the site with Euonymon, if only because ‘‘only a large deme could have possessed such a theatre’’.13 But size and wealth were already abundantly evident from the considerable remains of eighth- or seventh-century cyclopean walls identiWed on the western slope of the hill, apparently the deme’s acropolis.14 Pointing speciWcally to Euonymon, a dedicatory inscription from the theatre read: ‘‘Olympiodoros son of Diotimos dedicated [this] to Dionysus’’.15 The family of this Olympiodoros, perhaps the famous general of the early third century, may be identiWed as the very prominent one of this deme.16 Let us put the site into a broader context. Although numerous obsidian tools have been discovered in Trachones and its vicinity,17 and the famous Early Bronze Age coastal settlement at Hagios Kosmas lies 3.5 km to the southwest,18 positive evidence of settlement in the immediate area of Euonymon’s acropolis begins in the Mycenaean Period,19 and then ceases for four or Wve centuries until the Late or even 1907. Furthermore, Milchho¨fer follows his 1883 description with a reference to Trachones as ‘‘Das an der westlichen Anho¨he gelegene Dorf Trachones . . .’’ (p. 29), making it clear that the ruined chapel was located at some distance to the east of Trachones, close by the side of the Athens–Sunium road. The site is probably identical with the remains still to be seen about 300 m north of Archaiou Theatrou St. along L. Vouliagmenis, next to a modern church of Zoodochos Pege (personal visit, 12 April 2000) (marked as ‘‘Cist[erne]’’ in KvA). A second alternative for the Dorfkirche is marked in KvA about 50 m to the north of the main house at Trachones. However, the Eisodia (about 70 m to the east of the house) appears to have held such precedence that this other goes completely unmentioned by the family or its visitors (see Geroulanos’ map (1973a), Beilage 1), e.g. Kere´nyi (1952), 56–7: ‘‘Inselhaft beginnt das Gut mit der kleinen, byzantinischen Kirche . . . ; von der Herrin des Hauses erfahre ich die Bedeutung des Festes toˆn Isodioˆn am 21 November: es ist Mariae Vorstellung im Tempel . . . das Fest auch der kleinen Kirche des Gutes . . . ; die Sippe der fru¨heren Besitzer kam gerade heute zu einer Gedenkmesse zusammen in der kleinen Kirche . . .’’); KvA is the only source to record the second church, and I could not access the particular site for conWrmation. 13 Traill (1978), 104 n. 50. 14 Papagiannopoulos (1929), 172–3. 15 SEG xxxii 267: [˜]ˇ˝& [ˇ]¸&—ˇ˜(ˇ j ˜ˇ)ˇ& `˝¯¨˙˚¯˝; see Tzachou-Alexandri (1980a), 65–6 with photo (pl. 58a). 16 See APF 161–5. 17 See Geroulanos (1956). 18 See Travlos (1988), 6. 19 See Benzi (1975), 173 V.; Furtwa¨ngler and Lo¨schcke (1886), 37. Unfortunately, the Mycenaean Wnds at Trachones were almost entirely looted during the nineteenth century.



Geometric Period. This apparent rebirth in the late eighth century Wts the model of Athenian ‘‘colonization’’ of its chora in lieu of the overseas ventures more typical of other Greek cities.20 The twenty undisturbed Late Geometric graves found by Geroulanos are consistently secondary cremations, but apart from this seem consistent with the trends in burial and status seen in the Dipylon cemetery at Athens.21 From this time until the Roman period, burials have been discovered in two main areas: to the south of the acropolis and by the side of the Athens–Sunium road; by the Wfth century, however, the former area had been partly built over.22 By the Wrst half of the Wfth century bc, Euonymon was prosperous enough to build a permanent theatre, a rarity known from direct evidence in only six other Attic demes.23 Most of the visible remains are the result of thorough refurbishing in stone in the fourth century, including the construction of a two-storied proscenium with eight Doric columns in antis, a new marble proedria (of which six seats survive), and two archaizing statues of Dionysus on stone bases by each parodos. The cavea was a combination of wood and stone seating. Apparently suVering from a serious Xooding problem (probably runoV from Hymettos), which went unsolved even by digging a drainage channel and pit to its east, the theatre was abandoned by 200 and completely disappeared under deep erosion layers until 1975.24 Ancient attempts at water management were more successful 100 m to the west, where the seasonal stream of Hagios Nikolaos passes below the eastern face of the acropolis on its way from Hymettos to the sea, emptying approximately 200 m north of the presumed site of the centre of Halimous. The magnitude of the problem faced by the deme appears from the fact that a cloudburst in 1935 caused a water Xow of 2 to 8 litres per second rapidly to swell 20 See Whitehead (1986), 7. 21 Geroulanos (1973a), 2. 22 Ibid. 1. 23 The orthogonal construction probably dates the Wrst phase of construction to the early Classical Period: see Goette (1995), 16–17 (with ground-plan, 17; and photo, 262); Lohmann (1998); Whitehead (1986), 219. The only available excavation reports are Tzachou-Alexandri (1980a, 1980b), (1981a, 1981b): lamentably, no Wnal publication of the building has ever appeared; I am therefore very grateful to G. Oliver for use of his notes of a lecture given by the excavator at the German Archaeological Institute on 4 November 1993. 24 See Tzachou-Alexandri (1980a), 67.



to an estimated 25,000 to 40,000 litres per second.25 Another surge in 1981 swept away part of the streambed. This accidentally revealed an artiWcial channel composed of two parallel revetment walls approximately 4 m apart.26 The total length of the channel, considering previously exposed segments, is estimated to have been more than 200 m.27 Architectural remains built into the original or repaired fabric of the wall give it a Classical terminus post quem, although a date in the eighth century has also been proposed.28 The surrounding countryside does not seem at Wrst glance to be very promising for agriculture. Dodwell, who visited ‘‘the village called Tragones, near which the Cape of Agia Kosmos projects into the sea’’ on 22 November 1805, saw the area during the rainy season, but still had the following to say: There is no part of Greece where the soil is so arid, and water is so scarce as in Attica. From Corinth to Sunium, there is not a single running stream of fresh water, except the Athenian Cephissos, and that seldom reaches the sea. The Ilissos is the most celebrated of the Attic rivers, and was sacred to the Muses, and to several divinities whose aethereal essence, inaccessible to the sensation of thirst, might frequent with delight a bare and rocky channel, and imaginary stream. Plutarch [Sol. 23.5] aYrms that Attica is a dry and parched country, without rivers or lakes, where few springs occur, and where the water which they used was generally drawn from wells.29

Frazer remarked, similarly, that the landscape was: . . . barren, solitary and desolate in a high degree. The stony and broken soil is traversed by the beds, generally dry, of many brooks . . . Melancholy at times, the landscape is doubly gloomy in winter, when dark clouds lower on Mt. Hymettos and shut out the view across the sea to the coast of the Peloponnese.30 25 Geroulanos (1981), 13. 26 Geroulanos (1981), 11–12: the better preserved of the two walls was 0.61 m high and 0.61–0.92 m wide. 27 Ibid. 12. 28 See ibid. 11–12: remains include a column drum and a grave stele. I know of no further archaeological work on these walls. 29 Dodwell (1819), 468; see 479: ‘‘Except towards its base, Hymettos has hardly any soil: the rocks are in general composed of a calcareous yellow stone’’; cf. 527: ‘‘After having been, for so many months, accustomed to the yellow and arid hue of the Athenian plain, we were agreeably surprised by the beauty, verdure, and freshness of the country about Cephissia’’. 30 Frazer (1913), 36.



Alone against these bleak accounts, Milchho¨fer refers to the land from Trachones to Chasani, which he saw cultivated with vines and olive trees, as a ‘‘fru¨chtbare Ebene,’’31 and his observation Wnds support from Zvorykin and Saul’s Soil Map of Attica and soil analyses conducted at Trachones from 1963 to 1971.32 The soil in this area is composed mainly of eroded and transported redzinas of grey or reddish color containing fragments of limestone and alluvium, types similar to those on the rest of the Athenian plain, and on parts of the Thriasian plain.33 A landscape that strikes the eye as Martian therefore conceals a relatively good agricultural potential, which fully exploited can result in a high carrying capacity. Given the buried theatre and the apocalyptic Xoods just mentioned, all evidence of considerable erosion since antiquity, Braudel’s classic warning must preface any study of Euonymon: ‘‘In the Mediterranean the soil dies if it is not protected by crops; the desert lies in wait for arable land and never lets go. It is a miracle if it is preserved or reconstituted by the labour of the peasants.’’34

I I . R E G I ONA L LA ND S C A P E To gain a proper understanding of the agricultural history of Euonymon we must of course turn to the archaeological evidence. It will not do just to refer to the land’s more recent use and claim that it was pasture.35 The circumstantial case of the deme’s identiWcation with 31 Milchho¨fer (1883), 29. 32 Mr N. Geroulanos has kindly provided me with the results of these soil analyses, which constraints of space and expertise have not allowed me to put to more than passing use here. 33 See also Philippson (1950–9), vol. 2.3, 903. 34 Braudel (1972), 243. See also Osborne (1987), 31: ‘‘Sometimes it has been the exploitation of the land that has led directly to loss of soil or of ground cover, but equally often the building of terraces and Weld walls has maintained the landscape and it has been the removal of the human presence that has led to its degradation’’. 35 See Vliet (1994), 15: ‘‘While the area around the town of Athens seems primarily to have been used for agriculture . . . the stretch between Hymettos and the coast apparently was preferred for pasture . . . the evidence seems suYcient to support the supposition that in a broader view the region of Aixone (including that of Trachones) was mainly pastoral land’’.



Trachones is a particularly fruitful point of departure for our agricultural study, because it is around this basic question that the area’s archaeological evidence best reveals its complexity. The problem arises especially if we attempt to identify the deme as a static dot on a map, only to Wnd this upset by evidence of movement and interaction across this part of Attica in ancient and modern times. We can turn Wrst to a recent example of this phenomenon. Until the late nineteenth century, the buildings at Trachones served as the administrative centre of a single property stretching for about 15 km from modern Da´fni to Vouliagmeni, and thus covering an enormous area of open countryside.36 The archaeological Wnds made over time within this great latifundium (comprising the territories of at least four ancient demes) seem to have been haphazardly removed and transported to Trachones by its successive owners, Luriotis and Komninos.37 Therefore, as Eliot established in 1962 in his seminal work on the coastal demes south of Euonymon, the original location of most of the inscriptions reported in the nineteenth century as found ‘‘in vico Trachones’’ is open to serious doubt.38 Only from about 1916 or 1928 can objects thus reported be accepted as really belonging to the relative vicinity of Trachones, for it was in 1916 that a large subdivision (more than 250 ha) of the original property, including its central buildings, was bought by the Geroulanos family; and it was in 1928 that J. Geroulanos, the Wrst owner of the land to grapple scientiWcally with its archaeological evidence, came to live there.39 In the case of evidence discovered earlier, original provenances must still be traced haphazardly from 36 Geroulanos (1973a), 1. 37 Eliot (1962), 7–8; see Milchho¨fer (1883), 29; Lo¨per (1895), 136. 38 Eliot (1962). 39 See Bradford (1956), 173–4: ‘‘Mr. Geroulanos, the owner of the Trachones estate and himself a skilled archaeologist, has described to me the picture presented by this landscape in 1920 when no more than half-a-dozen large farms, strung out between the suburbs of Athens and Vari to the south, constituted the main settlement of the whole length of the coastal zone’’. See Geroulanos’ publications: 1981, 1973a, 1973b, 1956. The majority of Trachones Wnds, representing the Geometric through Classical Periods, were kept in a museum at Trachones (see the description by Kere´nyi (1952), 56–8), and are now in the Piraeus museum (see Steinhauer (2001)). A search of the Beazley Archive Pottery Database under the ‘‘Geroulanos, Trachones’’ collection produces a catalogue of twenty-seven sixth- to fourth-century vases. I owe all personal information on his family to Mr Geroulanos’ son, N. Geroulanos.



any surviving notes and journal records: in the meantime, such material can only very generally locate Euonymon somewhere between Hymettos and the coast.40 Milchho¨fer’s grave inscription, evidently part of the fabric of a Byzantine building, and the dedication of Olympiodoros are the only pieces of evidence known so far that can directly identify Trachones as the centre of Euonymon.41 If removal and transportation of objects to Trachones during the nineteenth century complicates the task of locating Euonymon, the same is obviously true for neighbouring demes, especially Aixone and Halimous. Eliot, for example, had to trace Wve Aixone decrees reported as found ‘‘at’’ (in) or ‘‘near’’ (ad ) Trachones to original Wnd spots 6.5 km to the south, near the church of Ayios Nikolaos in Glyphada, before he could demonstrate that the centre of Aixone lay in that vicinity.42 In current epigraphic usage the Standort (the standing place, i.e the original provenance) of these inscriptions would be Ayios Nikolaos/Aixone, and their Fundort (their Wnding place) Trachones/Euonymon.43 Similar attempts could be made to retrace the provenance of other seemingly misreported evidence. Consider, for example, two graves containing jury plaques belonging to demesmen of Halimous, Aristoteles and Teleson, found in the nineteenth century, and said in IG to come from ‘‘ad vicum Trachones’’.44 Do these instead belong somewhere closer to the coast than Trachones? Or, on the other hand, does too forceful an insistence on this kind of evidentiary 40 Although some Euonymon gravestones come from places as far from Trachones as Piraeus and Kolonaki (e.g. IG II2 6164 (‘‘Piraei’’: cf. ‘‘Chasani’’: Milchho¨fer (1907), col. 1157), IG II2 6189 (‘‘In monasterio ton Asomaton prope Athenas’’)), nine seem to point to this wide but secure zone of gravity, independent of modern removal and transportation (locations are given as in IG II2 unless otherwise noted): 6158 (‘‘ad vicum Trachones’’), 6167 (‘‘In vico Chasani’’), 6168 (‘‘in regione Chiroma prope Vari, nunc in vico Vari apud Nicol. Logothetin’’), 6182 (‘‘in vico Trachones’’), 6183 (‘‘Trachones’’: Milchho¨fer (1907), col. 1157), 6195 (‘‘in vico Trachones, in ecclesia’’), 6196 (‘‘in regione Pirnari, orientem versus a vico Glyphada’’), 6201 (‘‘inter vicos Trachones at Vari’’); Lo¨per (1892), 341 n. 1 (‘‘vor der Kapelle ` + ª: ˝ØŒºÆ   e Œ —Øæ Ææ auf einem Grabcippus’’). 41 The same is probably true of the Callias herm (see p. 73 below). 42 IG II2 1196, 1197, 1198, 1200, and 1202: see Eliot (1962), 6–21. 43 The German words provide useful shorthand for diVerentiating the original location of an object from its Wnd-spot, and have been accepted in English epigraphy since Sterling Dow. Future editions of IG, beginning with the forthcoming IG II3 , will use them to clarify the ambiguity prevalent in many older editions. 44 IG II2 1872, 1876.



relocation ultimately underestimate the movement of objects and people over the ancient landscape? Does it apply too static and hermetic a territorial model to Euonymon and its neighbours? Geography is the Wrst factor pointing to the importance of movement over this area, especially in antiquity. Euonymon stands on the main ancient thoroughfare between Athens and Sunium, almost exactly the same route followed by modern Vouliagmeni Avenue.45 This fact would have been of fundamental importance to this landlocked deme.46 Its fortiWed acropolis overlooks the road at the point where it descends from the undulating hills and gullies to the north, and enters the open coastal plain to the south. South of Euonymon along this axis lay many of the copious ancient remains recorded in KvA and represented today by the settlement excavations at Kalambokas/Ano Voula (Halai Aixonides), the massive grave terraces at Vari, and the strategic vantage points at Kastraki and Lathouresa.47 All important land communication between Athens, the coastal plains around Aixone, the salt-Xats around Halai Aixonides, the harbours at modern Vouliagmeni, and the mining areas at Sunium and Laurium, would have passed through Euonymon.48 It is interesting that Acharnae, the only deme on the Athenian plain with a larger bouleutic quota than Euonymon’s, also occupied a commanding position in relation to important thoroughfares.49 Just as Acharnae controlled the land approaches to Athens from the north and west (from Oropus through the Deceleian pass, and from central Greece or the Peloponnese through the Thriasian Plain), Euonymon commanded the main route from southern Attica. Athens, just 7 km 45 The ancient road can be traced in detail in other aerial photographs (see Bradford (1957), Wgs. 7, 9). Milchho¨fer (1883), 29, noted the wheel-ruts (from which it was possible to measure the average width of the vehicles) in the stretches that survived in the nineteenth century. 46 See Strab. 9.1.21. 47 See in general Osborne (1985), 22–7, and recent bibliographies in Mersch (1996), 213–15 (Steinperiboloi necropoleis, Lathouresa), 222–3 (Kalambokas, Kastraki). 48 Land communications would have been especially important if grain was sold exclusively in the asty and Piraeus, as suggested by reference to a sitikon emporion in the law on approvers of silver coinage (GHI II 25) and [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 51.4; see Rosivach (2000), 45–6, 50 on the market and the epimeletai; see further Appendix 4. 49 Its reputation as a charcoal-producing deme is well known thanks to Ar. Ach. 331–51 (see below, p. 74).



to the north, was near enough for Euonymon to count as a city deme (like its neighbour Halimous), and for its demesmen to meet in the asty until late and return to their homes in the dark.50 But this deme ‘‘in the country’’ (K E Iªæ E) was simultaneously the end of greater Athens, and the beginning of the Athenian chora. The geographical setting of Euonymon is then that of the typical large suburban settlement, a staging post between two regions, or the focus of a regional market.51 The archaeological record fully agrees with these preliminary considerations. It is precisely around Euonymon that KvA shows the greatest concentration of ancient remains (‘‘Antike Reste’’, labelled A.R.) in the entire southern Athenian plain. We gain a perspective of the density and complexity of remains associated with diVerent demes in this one area by recalling that experts of the calibre of Milchho¨fer (following Ross and Leake) and Bursian identiWed Trachones not as Euonymon, but as Aixone or Halimous, respectively.52 These were not empty conjectures, and it is worth recalling that the availability of archaeological evidence from this area has not increased signiWcantly since their time. Bursian’s Trachones in fact alternated with Chasani (suggested by Wrede, Hondius, and Leake53) as a candidate for the hypothetical centre of Halimous until more recent scholarship turned to yet another site on the coastal area near Hagios Kosmas. There, a fourth-century shrine of Dionysus (identiWed with Halimous by an accompanying inscription) was found during 50 See Dem. 57.9–10 (referring speciWcally to Halimous): MæŁÆ b F ØÆł  "ŁÆØ  º  Oł Æ, u  ı  ,  ŒÆ Pe Z  KŒÆºE , Œ  r ÆØ X : ŒÆd ªaæ q æd , Œ   , ŒÆd KŒºŁ o Æ  ± ø H K KŒ fi fiB æfi Æ Œº Ł ø ,  ŒÆ ƒ  æ æ Ø H   H Iº ºŁÆ N f Iªæ : F ªaæ  ı E , t ¼ æ ØŒÆ Æ ,   ŒÆd æØŒ Æ  ØÆ F ¼ ø I , ŒÆd H º  ø KŒE NŒ  ø , Iº ºŁÆ ƒ  ºº . For the distance, see NSID, 205. 51 On the importance of roads in the study of the economic landscape, see Horden and Purcell (2000), 562–3 with further bibliography, and Wilkinson (2003), 60–2. 52 Milchho¨fer (1883), 29, (1888), 358–9; (by 1907 Milchho¨fer had changed his mind in favour of identifying Trachones with Euonymon: see (1907), colls. 1156–8); Bursian (1862–72), vol. 1, 361; Frazer (1913), 398–9. It is healthy also to recall Lo¨per’s arguments for locating Euonymon near Vari, in a coastal trittys with Anagyrous and Lower and Upper Lamptrai: (1892), 341–3 and Wg. 12. 53 See Hondius (1919–20), 156. See the A.R. marked on this site in KvA, and corresponding traces on the RAF photographs for the remains of this ‘‘centre’’.



construction of the coastal road from Old Phaleron to Vouliagmeni in 1921.54 This habitational complexity shows to what extent the manmade homogeneity of this ancient landscape can defy attempts to compartmentalize it into clear deme centres and bounded territories. For the nineteenth-century visitor, one of the clearest signs of homogeneity was the enormous number of stone mounds (Steinhu¨gel ) densely dotting the land: Milchho¨fer reports in 1883 that over 200 could be counted in the area from Kara to Pirnari.55 However, despite his prudent warning that they should be distinguished from grave tumuli (Grabtumuli), KvA IV and VIII make no such distinction, and label the mounds as ‘‘grave mounds’’ (Grabhu¨gel), apparently lying everywhere by the hundreds (see Figure 2). Milchho¨fer’s distinction is important (as Dodwell had recognized much earlier), because Steinhu¨gel are evidence of the systematic clearance of rocks and other debris for the purpose of agriculture.56 Genuine burials from the area are, by contrast, not in the form of Steinhu¨gel. Those dating from the Classical Period were usually placed along the ancient road from Athens to Sunium, while those from earlier (e.g. Mycenaean) times are described by Lolling as having no signs of being originally covered by tumuli.57 In 1885 and 1919, respectively, Myres and Keramopoullos substantiated what Dodwell and Milchho¨fer had suggested: they showed that many of the hundreds of tumuli that passed for burial mounds in this area were in fact nothing but piles of stones cleared from the land.58 Such clearances have always been a necessity for agriculture around Hymettos. The name Trachones may itself be of ancient use and derive from the word æÆ, meaning ‘‘stony’’; and the virtually equivalent adjective ºº probably gives the name to 54 SEG ii 7; Hondius (1919–20), 151 V.; Travlos (1988), 6. 55 Milchho¨fer (1883), 30. 56 See Dodwell’s discussion (1819), 417 (although Dodwell visited the area between Ayios Nikolaos and Trachones in November 1805, his observations on Steinhu¨gel are made with reference to a large number of these dotting the landscape between Athens and Piraeus). 57 Lolling, in Furtwa¨ngler and Lo¨schcke (1886), 37; Wrede (1933), 36 (no. 99, Wg. 9). See also the geometric graves excavated by Geroulanos, which were covered with stone slabs: (1973a), 2–4, Tafeln 1–4, 11–15; Beilagen 2–3. A particularly impressive grave terrace was located by another ancient road connecting Halimous with Aixone: see Wrede (1933), 23–4 (no. 57, Wgs. 4, 5). 58 See Eliot (1962), 17–19 n. 46.



Fig. 2. Grabhu¨gel and terraces. Top: E. Curtius and J. Kaupert (eds.), Karten von Attika, VIII. Bottom: British School at Athens Archives, U13 Royal Air Force 3057.



the plot of land, Phelleis ( $ºº ), in a surviving land-lease from Aixone.59 The fact that some of the Steinhu¨gel examined by Keramopoullos contained pottery fragments dating no later than 500 may reXect a systematic agricultural clearance begun around this time. Keramopoullos even suggested a connection between this process and the designation by Peisistratus of part (or all) of the stony land ‘‘in Hymettos’’ as a tax-free district (æØ I º) according to the story in the Ath. Pol. (perhaps derived from Ephorus).60 We will revisit this interesting suggestion.61 It is the broader context of the Steinhu¨gel that is most important. Aerial photography has now demonstrated conclusively that these mounds formed part of a single agricultural system that largely escaped the notice of earlier land-bound explorers.62 Unfortunately, most of these remains have today been swept away by the southern expansion of modern Athens and its old airport.63 They were clearly visible for the last time in several series of aerial photographs taken by the Royal Air Force in 1943 and 1944, and now archived at the British School at Athens (see Figure 2, bottom).64 Thanks to the immediate proximity of 59 IG II2 2492 l.1 (see pp. 64–5 below for a full discussion of the document); see also SEG xxiv 152.2; Poll. Onom. 1.227; Harp. s.v. ºº. On ‘‘Trachones’’: see Eliot (1962), 13 n. 32; cf. Ross (1855), 16 n. 13. On ºº: see Pl. Criti. 111c. Osborne (1985), 20 n. 19, mistakenly thinks of such land as marginal. 60 Keramopoullos (1919), 32–46. See Eliot (1962), 19 n. 46; Rhodes (1993), 216. [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 16.6. 61 See pp. 73–4 below. 62 The area recorded in KvA VIII clearly shows some of these terraces and marks them (originally in red colour) as ancient, but this is ‘‘a good beginning but in fact only a very small proportion of the total layout’’ (Bradford (1956), 178). 63 Ibid. 174, 178, and (more recently) Langdon (1985a), 257, 263–6, comment on the serious degradation of the ancient landscape since the Second World War. My own visit to the slopes of Hymettos over several days in early February 2000 showed that practically nothing is left of these remains. The slopes of Hymettos to the east of Trachones have been overrun by the neighbourhoods of Ilioupolis and Argyroupolis, as well as a large trash dump. Only the faintest traces of terracing were still recognizable on the slope below the church of Ayia Irene. 64 A few have been published by Bradford: see n. 75 below. The present photograph, taken to the southeast of Trachones (perhaps the territory of Aixone), dates from 7 December 1943 (BSA Archives U13 RAF 3057). From bottom left, the road running northeast is now Leophoros Andrea Papandreou; on the top right, now Leophoros Konstantinou Athanatou. The terraces widen to 28 m as the slope becomes almost negligible, and are part of the same agricultural system as the pervasive ancient mounds on KvA shown above.



the Nazi-occupied Helleniko Airport, this area was photographed with particular frequency and detail. Viewing these photographs alongside (or, better, as transparent overlays to) KvA, and at the same scale, one sees the breathtaking accuracy of the 1875–82 German maps: not just in identifying particular remains but also in establishing elevation, slope, etc., they become the key to ‘‘reading’’ the photographs, while the latter provide a complete topographic and archaeological context. During his military service in Athens, Bradford had the opportunity to study, and later publish, some of the aerial views, as well as to carry out further investigations on the ground.65 His remarks on the landscape as viewed from the air are essential: Because the hills lie parallel with the coast, the lines of the terracing are normally orientated in the same direction. Towards the sea their remains can be traced as far as the shore itself at one point—on the northern edge of the sprawling new seaside resort of Glyphada. Inland, they reached as high as the 900-ft. [274.5-m] contour line in some places—for example behind Glyphada, and on slopes round the head of the Pirnari valley, and inland from Trachones. Such remains of ancient cultivation end at the line where the steep slopes begin, where the character of the hillside changes suddenly and the surface is denuded of soil . . . One fact to be emphasized is that the distance between the parallel lines of terracing is not constant, or based on a regular subdivision like Roman centuriation. Here, the distance is determined by an essentially practical matter, the gradient of the slope. Speaking generally, the terraces highest up the hillside stand about 40 to 50 ft. [12.2 to 15.25 m] apart, halfway down about 70 ft. [21.35 m], and on the plain from 100 to 130 ft. [30.5 to 39.65 m] apart—although there may be exceptions even to this general statement. One essential fact is clear: this form of Weld-layout was applied to this whole area in order to minimize the deadly eVects of erosion of the surface soil . . . [and] to assist the natural conservation of water by slowing down the run-oV of rain water, so giving it time to sink into the soil.66 65 Bradford (1956) (further investigation); (1957) (original observations), 29–34, pls. 6–10. 66 Bradford (1956), 174–5. Compare the striking presence of ancient terracing on the plain as far as the shore, with the terracing documented on the Frangokastello plain in Crete by Nixon and Price (2005), 679–80: ‘‘The plain is largely covered with terrace walls, despite its very low angle of slope (1–28). These terraces are of two kinds: conventional, with stone walls a little less than 1 m high; and very faint, narrow terraces with walls often only one stone high [emphasis added]. They have been mapped . . . and are also visible on aerial photographs . . . Their presence on a plain that is practically Xat is very striking. The plain is subject to periodic and



On the ground, Bradford noted that the abandoned terracing on the hillsides sometimes reached 5 ft (1.52 m) in height, and that where it was exposed ‘‘its construction was as well-built as the best modern terracing, as for instance in Provence or in western Cyprus’’.67 He observed that the beds of the seasonal torrential streams that run down Hymettos into the plain were channelled with revetment walls. One of these consisted of ‘‘cyclopean’’ blocks preserved to a height of 4 ft (1.22 m).68 Other walls running perpendicular to the slope were identiWed by Bradford as ‘‘Weld boundaries,’’ and shown to be built of stone orthostats.69 Bradford appreciated the impossibility of accurately dating such remains to a single period: ‘‘it is essential to treat such ancient landscapes as living composite things, in which some features grow while others wither’’.70 In Bradford’s opinion there were nevertheless two factors that placed the origin of the system in the Classical Period: the existence of conWrmed Classical parallels for the mode of construction of some of these walls,71 and the presence of Wfth- and fourth-century pottery shards on some of the high mountain terracing.72 The more recent epigraphic discoveries of Langdon (see pp. 57–8 below) serve to conWrm this hypothesis that ‘‘Classical hands shaped the origins of this widespread organized layout’’.73 This last statement represents one of the most valuable of Bradford’s insights: namely that this entire zone of methodic terracing potentially disastrous Xoods, and the terraces may be designed to reduce the resulting sheet erosion and gullying.’’ 67 Bradford (1956), 175, pl. 10b. 68 Bradford (1956), 175–6, pl. 10d. These dry courses were used, in turn, as public drains and roads, and walled oV ‘‘with large stones’’: Dem. 55.16. 69 Bradford (1956), 177, pl. 10c. 70 Bradford (1957), 32. 71 Young (1941), 191, cited in Bradford (1956), 177. 72 Bradford (1956), 180: ‘‘Only ancient Greek and Roman fragments could be found, and the earliest were black-glazed sherds of the late Wfth or early fourth century B.C. It is reasonable to suppose that sherds would have reached the Welds when they were being cultivated and fertilized with manure from the settlements.’’ (On this point, known today as the ‘‘manuring hypothesis’’, see the debate between Alcock et al. (1994), 141–70 (‘‘we may have moved from under-estimating to overestimating the use of kopros’’, p. 148) and Snodgrass (1994), 197–200 (‘‘the ‘manuring hypothesis’ is, after all, powerful enough to explain the phenomena virtually unaided’’, p. 200).) 73 Bradford (1956), 180.



stretching c.9 km from Trachones to modern Voula, and from the shore to elevations of c.300 m, ‘‘must be considered as a whole’’.74 Remains like those on the slopes of Hymettos northeast of Trachones and those on the plain northeast of Glyphada are ‘‘fundamentally homogenous and form part of the same system of cultivation’’.75 The approximate 25 km2 size of this system can even be enlarged by other remains visible on the hills to the west of Trachones. This additional terrain, considerably diVerent from both the mountain slopes and the plains around Glyphada, shows rows of terraces, divided by 19 to 15 m, following the contours of individual hills. Diagonal or perpendicular Weld divisions are also to be seen. Although we are dealing here with land at least partly cultivated at the time of the photograph, it is very unlikely that all visible traces are modern and separate from the adjacent system that we have already seen. The visible features present the same type of corrugation visible in the other photographs.76 If we accept these also as ancient landscapes, we have a terraced landscape measuring a total of more than 30 km2 , extending systematically over the presumed territories of the demes Euonymon, Halimous, and Aixone.77 SigniWcantly, much of this terraced area, as we have seen, is on a virtually Xat plain. Far more than terracing on hillsides, Xat terracing is essential for understanding land use, because it must belong to a type of intensive agriculture that seeks to maximize and preserve production in the long term. It is in eVect an investment against the future risk (which in some cases may be minimal) of erosion through Xooding. And especially where it can be shown to be used systematically over a large 74 Bradford (1956), 179; see (1957), 32: ‘‘. . . their furthest upper limit is very clear, reaching the 300 meter line in places’’. 75 Bradford (1956), 175, with map (p. 10) and photos (pls. 6–10). 76 See Bradford (1956), 178: ‘‘I noticed instances where the mass of stones which formed the revetment-wall of the terrace were being dug out. But this is very laborious, for the banks of stones form a massive obstacle. Generally the farmer has been content to remove the edge of the terrace gradually by ploughing over it, and in this case a stony ‘soil-mark’ remains for observation on the ground and from the air. On air photos these remains of a ‘buried-landscape’ resemble corrugations or ripples across the surface of the present expanses of ploughing.’’ 77 Nixon and Price (2005) provide a series of other dating criteria and vocabulary to identify ancient terraces in the archaeological and litreary record respectively, and demolish the sceptical position of Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 81, and Foxhall (1996); see Grove and Rackham (2001), 107–10 for a classiWcation of Mediterranean terraces, and Wilkinson (2003), 52–7 for ancient Near Eastern comparanda; also Horden and Purcell (2000), 234–7, and 585 with bibliography.



area, it seems totally incompatible with short-term or subsistencedriven agricultural strategies, since in that case one would expect to see a patchwork of localized responses, made owner by owner, to very disparate levels of risk. We now turn to this question in greater detail.

III. INTENSIVE VERSUS SUBSISTENCE AGR IC ULTURE The landscape so far described clearly indicates the practice of intensive agriculture.78 The channelling of streams, the clearing of stones from the land, and the construction of thousands of kilometres of walling certainly imply enormous eVort and constant attention. The same conclusion can be drawn from the pottery scatters discovered by Bradford, if they are evidence of manuring.79 The inscribed boundary of a water conduit (‹æ  ØÆ [ ı]) discovered by Langdon at a height of 337 m on the nearby slopes of Hymettos is yet another example of this intensive resource management.80 The same thing appears even from inscriptions of foot outlines (four separate sets, including one of Wfteen pairs of feet), genitalia, names (including a ‘‘Deinias is beautiful’’ (˜Ø Æ ŒÆº)), and more horoi, all dated by lettering to the Wfth and fourth centuries, and located within the notional boundaries of Euonymon (or just to their north) at altitudes 78 See Bradford (1956), 180, who saw (supported by Dunbabin) ‘‘a strong possibility—to say the least—that this intensive agriculture round Hymettos had its origin in the Classical world, when there was a populous capital city close to the spot, providing a considerable urban population which required large quantities of food’’. The observation corresponds to the last of the nine dating criteria in Nixon and Price (2005), 670. 79 See n. 72 above. 80 See Langdon (1985a), 260–3: ‘‘The impression from the lettering is that the inscription was cut in the 4th century BC’’ (p. 260); two other ‹æ Ø in the vicinity presumably also belonged to this conduit. Two additional conclusions of importance: (1) A mountain spring was probably the source, and that since the conduit was not subterranean (as would be expected if it carried the water for a long distance), ‘‘the conduit . . . was probably short and served some local function’’ (p. 262); (2) Likening this water conduit to another from Acharnae, Langdon entertains the idea of ‘‘landowners yielding water rights to a corporation which was commissioned to create a system for collecting water and supplying it to a community, Athens in the case of the Acharnian system, a local deme centre in the case of the Hymettian one’’ (p. 263).



ranging from around 400 to 200 m.81 We can expand Langdon’s statement that the foot outlines ‘‘are personal mementos, not of pilgrims or passers-by but of habitue´s who frequented selected places on the mountain’’,82 to conclude that these symbols of work and play agree with the evidence of terracing by showing constant human presence on these slopes in Classical times.83 However, in accepting intensive agriculture as a premise we must dispel the currently pervasive conclusion that this practice is somehow equivalent to subsistence agriculture.84 We can accept that greater agricultural labour generally results in greater net production, although it also entails a decline in output per man-hour, so that ‘‘in typical cases the cultivator would Wnd it proWtable to shift to a more intensive system of land use only when a certain density of population has been reached’’.85 The crucial question remains whether the aim or eVect of intensiWcation is self-suYciency. In the case of Euonymon the archaeological evidence speaks of intensive production, but of what, and in what quantities? Can we get a notion of the degree of self-suYciency of this deme, and thus test the current orthodoxy that ‘‘the villages of Attica were very strong communities which largely met their own subsistence needs, and which Wlled local needs by neighbourly exchange’’?86 In order to answer this question satisfactorily, we must calculate the following three variables: (1) the minimum possible population of Euonymon; (2) the maximum possible extent of the deme’s cultivable territory; and (3) its maximum possible production under intensive cultivation. All are diYcult problems, but if we answer them with a reasonable degree of certainty, they should give us the most optimistic possible assessment of the deme’s self-suYciency.

81 Langdon (1985a), 263–70. See pp. 39–42 above. 82 Langdon (1985a), 269. 83 Langdon and Watrous (1977) have published similar inscriptions and graYti from the farm of Timesios in Agrileza, one of which includes the name of the epitropos of the farm, who probably lived there permanently (p. 170). 84 See Jameson (1977–8), passim; Garnsey (1999), 26–7, (1988), 94; Osborne (1987), 46: ‘‘. . . the whole Athenian population could have been supported from the territory of Attica itself alone. This does not, of course, mean that it was. Social and political factors as well as more directly agricultural ones will have determined the attractions of very intensive as opposed to rather more extensive farming.’’ 85 Boserup (1965), 41. 86 Osborne (1987), 108.



To calculate the minimum population of Euonymon we can apply modern demographic modelling to the deme’s Classical political quotas. Every Athenian citizen aged 30 or older could serve in the city Council only twice in his life, and not in consecutive years.87 This means that if the deme Euonymon had a bouleutic quota of ten, every year the deme supplied at least Wve diVerent councillors aged 30 and above. There is evidence, however, that in reality Euonymon would have provided eight to ten diVerent councillors yearly, and that their average age was 40.88 It is widely accepted that Classical Athens was demographically characterized by very high birth and mortality rates and a low average life expectancy.89 Applying Coale and Demeny’s model for males at mortality level 4 and growth rate 5, we can calculate that males aged 40 represent 1.21% of a total male population, so that producing eight to ten councillors per year would have required a total population of 661 to 826 male citizens.90 A similar exercise can be performed with fourth-century diaitetai lists, showing the number of men aged 59 or above appointed as arbitrators from each deme: using the same model, we can calculate that a total male population of 784 would be required to produce the four arbitrators from Euonymon that are present in the only complete list (IG II2 1926). Averaging these three Wgures and adding the same number of females, we arrive at a total citizen population of 1,514. Adding to this the conservative guesses of one slave for every two citizens,91 and of a small metic population (say six families),92 we reach a minimum total population of 2,300. This Wgure represents an absolute minimum, as is clear from a comparison with Hansen’s calculations for the total population of fourth-century Athens. If ‘‘usually, the councillors were not drafted but recruited from citizens who volunteered’’, or the wealthy were ‘‘represented in more than their due proportion’’; or if 87 [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 62.3; Dem. 24.149; see Rhodes (1993), 116. 88 See Hansen (1985), 51–6. 89 See Osborne (1985), 43; Hansen (1985), 11. 90 See ibid. 11–12. 91 See Osborne (1987), 46. In this connection, it is crucial to note that theories of intensive agriculture rely on high numbers of slaves: see Jameson (1977–8), 128 (on slaves for building terraces); Lohmann (1993), 218: ‘‘Die durchgehende Terrasierung der Talhange scheint ohne Sklaven kaum denkbar . . .’’. The only recorded slave from Euonymon is known from the epitaph &(`: Kyparissis (1926), 59–60. 92 See Whitehead (1986), 84: 17.5% of attested Athenian metics lived outside the asty.



the number of slaves was closer to the number of freemen, then a population of around 4,000 is entirely realistic for Euonymon.93 In this connection, it is interesting to note that the capacity of the theatre at Trachones (which we should assume did not exceed the total population of the deme) is put at 2,600 to 3,750 spectators.94 To calculate the maximum cultivable area of Euonymon we can take our original 15-km2 Thiessen polygon, and reduce it by approximately 2 km2 of mountain above 300 m, where terracing ends.95 We can observe that the Thiessen boundaries happen to coincide fairly well with natural breaks in the landscape. Further extensions are not warranted: we already have a strict maximum if we assume that the entire surface area of these 13 km2 was used for agriculture of some sort. Potentially the most diYcult calculation is that of maximum production under intensive cultivation. For this we can safely rely on modern comparisons as long as we can present a situation in which the true (i.e. maximum) carrying capacity of this particular land is actually tested. It is here that the experience of Trachones during the Second World War, drawn from the witness account of N. Geroulanos, becomes invaluable. Its context, presented by Mazower, is the complete breakdown of Greece’s market infrastructure soon after the Nazis entered Athens on 27 April 1941: Greece was disintegrating into a patchwork of isolated regional units. The various provinces—as an Italian administrator put it—had become ‘‘stagnant compartments, with no logical relationship to the geographical, economic, and demographic situation of the country.’’96

With the occupied government incapable of eVectively commandeering and redistributing that year’s harvest, famine conditions existed in Athens by the end of the summer of 1941; by October 1942 there had been more than 40,000 famine casualties in the Athens–Piraeus area alone.97 Even German civilians in Athens complained of lack of ‘‘meat and green vegetables’’ during the winter of 1941–2.98 93 See Hansen (1985), 64, (1999), 93–4: ‘‘. . . we can conclude that the Wgure of 30,000 adult male Athenian citizens represented no more than a tenth of the whole population of Attica and only a Wfth of the whole adult population’’. 94 Lohmann (1998), 289. 95 See pp. 42, 55–6 above. 96 Mazower, (1993), 28. 97 Mazower (1993), 32–41. 98 Ibid. 44, citing a letter by the archaeologist Wrede, the Landesgruppenleiter, or head of the Nazi party organization in Athens (see also Mazower (1993), 5–8).



From the spring of 1941 to that of 1945, the four years and immediate aftermath of occupation, Trachones was pushed into selfsuYciency and intensive cultivation by the Geroulanos family. According to their own account, the farm’s total area of 2:5 km2 was suYcient to sustain a maximum of 300 people, consisting of workers and their families who were allowed to live on the land.99 From these numbers we can calculate a carrying capacity of 120 people per km2. This Wgure is very similar to the maximum carrying capacity of the average cultivable km2 admitted as probable in Chapter 1, but it falls short of the respective estimates of Garnsey and Osborne by 11% to 28%.100 It is obviously to be preferred as a maximum for ancient Euonymon because it is both tested and localized on this land. Technology can account for the disparity between 120 people per km2 and the average ancient carrying capacity. Plant breeding and the use of artiWcial fertilizers had already been contributing dramatically to the rise of cereal yields in Greece before the war.101 The replacement of biennial fallow with crop rotation systems (mod. Gr. IØłØ æ), and the use of pulses for soil improvement was also standard procedure at Trachones. A ‘‘fallow-wheat’’ cultivation regime (mod. Gr. IªæÆ Æı -Ø æØ), analogous to the ‘‘fallow-barley’’ common in Classical Attica, could be avoided by fertilizing, partly using weeds, but mainly green manure (mod. Gr. ºøæc º Æ  ): areas with poor soil 99 N. Geroulanos sums up the situation thus: ‘‘My father always said that he had 300 mouths to feed’’. During a series of meetings from January to April 2000, Mr N. Geroulanos very kindly provided me with all the other information included here about farming in Trachones. Although no longer the leviathan it had been in the nineteenth century, a farm of 2:5 km2 (¼ 250 ha, or 2,500 stremmata) was still enormous in comparison with the national average, according to the Greek census of 1939: while 72.75% of landholdings measured between 1 and 30 stremmata, 0.13% of landholdings measured between 1,001 to 15,000 stremmata: see Papasotirios (1952), 665. 100 110 people per km2, i.e. the result of dividing 106,000 (the maximum number of people fed by home-grown grain) by 960 km2 (the maximum extent of Attica cultivable: 40% of 2,400 km2 ), see Chapter 1, pp. 13, 32. 101 See Sallares (1991), 294 ‘‘. . . over 90% of the wheat grown in Greece today consists of varieties that have been introduced or artiWcially bred within the last seventy years or so’’. On the Wgure of 2,000 kg/ha at Trachones in 1941–4, see esp. p. 479 n. 75: ‘‘The elderly informants of Renfrew & WagstaV (1982) . . . said that 10 stremmata of land were required at the start of the century to obtain the produce now yielded by 3 stremmata. This is conWrmed by the oYcial statistics, which show that the average yield had increased to 2,624 kg per ha in 1976 . . . from the 742 kg per ha of 1901 . . . , an increase of 354 percent’’.



were cultivated with grass-pea (‘‘chickling vetch’’ or Lathyrus sativus (normally used for fodder, but infrequently mentioned by Greek and Roman writers102), and those with good soil with broad bean (mod. Gr.  Œ  (Vicia)).103 Small-scale polyculture reduced to a minimum the risk of crop failure. Grains included wheat, barley, oat, and rye; pulses: vetchling, chickpea, lupine, broad and kidney bean, pea, and lentil (bitter vetch, sesame, onion, and garlic were also cultivated); and trees: mainly olives, and vines, but also Wgs, pistachios, and almonds. Agriculture was intensive: each tree, even the hardy olives, was manually watered during summer; and yields of wheat of up to 2,000 kg per hectare could be reached with suYcient fertilizing.104 Geroulanos, a German-trained agronomist, could use all techniques available to maximize the yield of his land. In some respects, these farming conditions closely approximate those of antiquity. The agricultural calendar at Trachones began with sowing in September or October.105 Ploughing was done with a mule pulling the plough followed by one or two workers planting the seed (about 12 okades (15.36 kg) of seed per 1,000 m2 ).106 Harvesting occurred in late spring (May or early June), and was done as in ancient times with short sickles, which are relatively ineYcient in preventing grain loss.107 Olive harvesting took place in September for unripe olives, and from November to February for those ripe for oil.108 The same ancient wells recorded in KvA were still providing Trachones with water. Only in 1956 were much better ones dug expensively to the unusual depth of 75 m. A diesel pump was needed since public electricity did not come to the farm until 1958. With 102 See Flint-Hamilton (1999), 381. 103 Mr N. Geroulanos’ account; see also Papasotirios (1952), 98–108, 149, a Greek handbook kept by the Geroulanos family, slightly later than the war. See Chapter 1, pp. 14 –25 for a discussion of the general absence of these techniques in Classical Attica. 104 This Wgure is half to twice as much as the most optimistic estimate for the Classical Period made by Osborne, more than three times those made by Garnsey and Jarde´, and four times that made by Sallares. See Chapter 1, Table 1. 105 See Papasotirios (1952), 147. Sowing in the Classical Period seems to have been in November; cf. Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 22 for the ancient sources. 106 See Papasotirios (1952), 147–9. Mr N. Geroulanos still keeps one of these ploughs, which more closely resemble an ard, since they merely cut (as opposed to cut and turn) the soil. 107 See Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 52–3; Amouretti (1986), 100–3. 108 Ibid. 21. See Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 33–40.



these innovations, post-war Trachones could turn proWtably to Xower cultivation. But from 1941 to 1945 agriculture at Trachones was neither fully industrialized nor linked to a market, and the spectre of famine loomed ominously near. We are therefore justiWed in taking a carrying capacity of 120 people per km2 as a reliable yet very strict maximum for Classical Euonymon. To summarize, we have calculated a population of 2,300, an area of 13 km2 , and a carrying capacity of 120 people per km2 as the most optimistic possible Wgures for Euonymon. These numbers demonstrate that agriculture in Euonymon, although undeniably intensive according to the archaeological evidence, was very far from reaching (or even aiming at) self-suYciency, since calculations result in onethird to one-half too little food, too little land, or too many people.109 Even Osborne’s higher estimate of Attic carrying capacity at 167 people per km2 fails to pull the deme out of the agricultural red.110 Of course, the deWcit increases considerably if we apply more realistic Wgures: for example, at a carrying capacity of 76 people per cultivable km2 , 13 km2 would feed only one-quarter of a population of 4,000. Interestingly, Euonymon’s neighbours show the same predicament. Although in the most optimistic scenarios Aixone and Halimous come closer to self-suYciency,111 more realistic estimates show that they could produce enough food for about one-third of their populations.112 109 Applying the minimum population to the maximum land, we exceed the maximum carrying capacity by 47.4%; applying the minimum population to the maximum carrying capacity, we exceed the maximum land by 47.4%; applying the maximum carryingcapacity tothe maximum land, we undervalue theminimum population by 32%. 110 See Osborne (1987), 46. 111 Aixone’s bouleutic quota being uncertain (either eleven or eight), the lower number is chosen to calculate a minimum population (of 1,840). Its maximum cultivable area is 14 km2 . Applying the minimum population to the maximum land, we exceed the maximum carrying capacity by 9.5%; applying the minimum population to the maximum carrying capacity, we exceed the maximum land by 9.5%; applying the maximum carrying capacity to the maximum land, we undervalue the minimum population by 8.7%. Halimous’ bouleutic quota is three, so that its minimum population is 690. Its maximum cultivable area is 5 km2 . Applying the minimum population to the maximum land, we exceed the maximum carrying capacity by 15%; applying the minimum population to the maximum carrying capacity, we exceed the maximum land by 15%; applying the maximum carrying capacity to the maximum land, we undervalue the minimum population by 13%. 112 Aixone’s 14 km2 of land at a carrying capacity of 100 people per km2 would feed 33.3% of a population of 3,200; Halimous’ 5 km2 of land at the same carrying capacity would feed 31.7% of a population of 1,200.



We have seen that (as opposed to Trachones during the Second World War) it was impossible for Euonymon, Halimous, and Aixone to survive economically in a world of ‘‘isolated regional units’’, or even of localized exchange. Their existence must have depended on the asty and a wider market infrastructure that, going far beyond the mere supply of staple necessities, could also generate considerable proWt and prosperity from the exchange of intensively produced cash-crops.113 Such a conclusion best explains the homogeneity and intensive cultivation of this landscape, as well as the obvious material wealth of Euonymon. A surviving lease of public land of Aixone (IG II2 2492) illustrates this conclusion in detail. In this document we see Aixone leasing a plot of land for forty years (archon-dated from 346/5 to 306/5) to Autocles and Auteas, evidently a team of father and son.114 The provision that strictly forbids the removal of soil from the plot reXects the meticulous care in terracing the landscape, as seen on the aerial photographs.115 The long, intergenerational lease period is the Wrst of several features pointing to the central concern of securing a mutually proWtable investment in the trees, and especially the olives, on the plot. Distinguishing explicitly between ‘‘tree crops’’ (ºØ  ŒÆæ) and ‘‘earth crops’’ (˜  æØ  ŒÆæ), the contract grants exclusive rights over the former to the deme during the Wrst year, and to the tenants only from the second year of rent.116 This provision allows a board formed by the deme and tenants to auction the right to cut the olive trees, and to divide the income equally between the deme treasury and the rent.117 The purchaser of the cutting rights must undertake, in turn, to leave enough of the trunks as will ensure their rejuvenation and proWtability in fruit during the following thirty-nine-year tenancy.118 That the deme 113 See Osborne’s ‘‘wealth-index’’ for Euonymon, which places its wealth well above the average in Classical Attica (1985), 45–6, 196–200. 114 This is the plot named ‘‘ $ºº ’’ (see pp. 52–3 above). 115 ll. 27–9: c b ªB c KŒ B ªøjæı Æ c KE ÆØ KªØ   d Iºº j K ÆP e e jøæ . 116 ll. 18–20: æ  ¼æØ B ØŁ(ø)j F ˜  æ ı ŒÆæ F ¯h ıº  ¼æø , F b ıº j ı ›  ¯h ıº . 117 ll. 31–41. 118 ll. 41–6: ‹jø i ƃ KºAÆØ ‰ ŒººØ ÆØ ŒÆd ªØ ÆØ ª ª ø ÆØ j K  Ø E  Ø.



also expects to re-cut the olive trees at the termination of the lease is indicated by its cyclical interest in the vines: the deme will proWt from the vintage in the Wrst year, and then return to dress and prepare the trees during the last Wve years of the lease.119 We can securely deduce from this document that a proWtable forty-year production cycle of olive-wood and fruit would have required the trees to be watered and fertilized intensively, and livestock strictly prevented from eating new shoots. Yearly harvests averaging 20 kg of olives per tree could thus resume within six years after cutting; otherwise, regeneration could take twice or three times longer, and easily waste more than a third of the lease period.120 Using the aerial photographs to compare the ancient and modern landscapes provides further evidence of this intensive cultivation. The distance of 12 to 15 m between each of the narrowest rows of ancient terracing on the hillsides (see p. 54 above), and the distance of 6 to 8 m visible between each row of trees at Trachones, plainly suggest that each of these terraces was designed to accommodate precisely one row of trees in similarly fertilized and artiWcially watered conditions.121 The much wider, lower terraces could accommodate two or more rows of trees. Trees on these terraces would probably be intercropped biennially with legumes or grain, as indicated by the Aixone lease.122 At the lower-end concentration of 156 trees per hectare indicated by this terracing framework, Euonymon’s cultivated area of 13 km2 could contain over 200,000 trees and 119 ll. 17–18: Iº ıæªe  KªØ `Nø Æ E  jØ E ºı Æ Ø  . 120 See Hanson (1998), 65–7, 222–3 (citing D. J. Mattingly (1996), 219); Isager and Skydsgaard (1992), 38–9 (with photo, pl. 2.10): ‘‘According to modern accounts describing the cultivation, this makes it even easier to pick the olives’’. 121 See Amouretti (1986), 26: ‘‘En sol peu profond, on aura de grands espacements, jusqu’a` 24  24 m entre chaque arbre, soit 17 arbres a` l’hectare, disposition indispensable au de´veloppement late´ral des racines. En sol perme´able, avec une pluviome´trie de´passant 700 mm [note the equivalent of less than 400 mm for Attica: Osborne (1987), 33], on peut avoir un e´cartement de 6 a` 8 m et des densite´s de 200 a` 250 arbres a` l’hectare, ce qui paraıˆt le maximum en culture se`che me´diterrane´enne (certes, avec une forte irrigation de mai a` octobre on peut atteindre des densite´s plus e´leve´es de 300 a` 500 arbres, mais il faut des conditions pe´dologiques excellentes et des varie´te´s bien choisies).’’ 122 See ll. 15–16 (. . . ÆæÆ F ÆØ f ØŁø ı c j Æ B ªB ææe . . .); 41–3 ( e b æØ a KºÆ KŒŒłÆØ KjØa ` Ł Æ e ŒÆæe Œ   ÆØ

e  `æ Æj ¼æ Æ æe Ð Iæ . . .).; cf. l. 19 (. . . F ˜  æ ı ŒÆæ F . . .). See Lohmann (1993), 198 and (1992), 51, arguing for olive monoculture on terraces.



produce yearly average harvests of olive oil of at least 560 tons per year.123 Clearly a surplus, this amount would have been enough for more than 30,270 adult males to achieve a generous estimated yearly consumption of 18.5 kg of oil, although substantial additional needs for hygienic, medical, religious, industrial, and other purposes (e.g. artiWcial lighting) must not be discounted.124 The eVect of this on Euonymon’s economy is apparent from the fact that, at a price of olive oil of 12 dr. per metretes, 560 tons of oil would be worth 30 talents, a sum capable of buying wheat (at 5 dr. per medimnos) to feed 6,000 adults per year.125 By comparison, using the same 13 km2 in a system of biennial fallow would only produce enough wheat to feed half this number, even at the unrealistically high yield rate of 1,000 kg per hectare.126 A passage of Aristotle probably reXects popular belief in correlating the sizes of olive harvests and bee populations.127 Honey, the prime sweetener of the ancient world, was also a famous product of Mt. Hymettos.128 It is therefore not surprising to Wnd that our evidence for olive cultivation is accompanied by abundant apicultural remains. Euonymon and the Vari house, located approximately 7 km to the southeast, on the foothills of Mt. Hymettos, have yielded many of the best-studied fragments of terracotta beehives from the Classical Period. These coarse pots, about 50 cm in length, tapered 123 See Osborne (1987), 45; Amouretti (1986), 196 n. 64; Lohmann (1993), 216 n. 1484: the hypothetical amount is based on a lower-end production of 20 kg of olives per tree with a 14% oil yield, resulting in 2.8 kg (3 l) of oil per tree; higher values (e.g. up to 40 kg of olives per tree with 20% oil yield) are possible (I have not been able to obtain Wgures for olive and oil yields at Trachones). 124 See Amouretti (1986), 181–96 (estimating generous total needs per adult citizen of more than twice the amount of the consumption Wgure). 125 For the price of oil, see n. 138 below; IG II2 1356, ll. 7–8; see also Pritchett (1956), 184; for equivalent of a  æ  of oil in litres, and on the sale of Attic oil in the Black Sea for about three times the prices in Attica and the Aegean, see Lohmann (1993), 217–18, with discussion and references. For wheat prices and weights, see Appendix 1. 126 See Osborne (1987), 45. Cf. Jarde´ (1925), 187, who estimates that in antiquity an area cultivated with olive trees yielded about three times the value of the same area cultivated with wheat. 127 See Arist. Hist. an. 553a22–3, 553b23. 128 See Dalby (1996), 47, 65. It is also important to remember the many medicinal uses of honey: see e.g. Theophr. HP 9.9.3; 9.11.1; 9.11.3; 9.13.2; 9.13.3; 9.16.5; 9.19.3; 9.20.3; 9.20.4; Ath. 3.85a.



from a rimmed open mouth (about 35 cm in diameter) to an almost Xat narrow end (two complete examples from the second century bc were found at Marathon, set mouth to mouth and used as a child’s coYn).129 To the mouth could be fastened one or two extension rings (each about 9 cm wide) and a lid. Similar modern pots, used as hives in Paros, Antiparos, and Cyprus, and gas chromatography tests revealing faint traces of beeswax on the ancient fragments have left no doubt concerning the identiWcation of these vessels.130 The extension rings are especially important, since they were unnecessary appendages, but would have allowed the selective harvesting of honey at diVerent times of the year, and avoided not only disturbing the nurseries deeper inside the vessel, but also smoking the bees and thus distorting the taste of their produce.131 This sophisticated system also allowed entire combs (Æ ) to be removed for sale, as mentioned by Aristophanes in his description of the Athenian cash-crop market (see pp. 74–5 below), a fact which easily explains why numerous fragments of their distinctive combed texture have been discovered in the Athenian agora excavations.132 We can conclude that this is the type of vessel in which Euonymon produced the variety of Hymettan ‘‘smokeless honey’’ (ºØ IŒ Ø ) renowned alongside the many other ‘‘trademark luxuries’’ traded throughout the ancient world.133 Still highly prized in modern times, Hymettan honey appears in the works of Fourmont, Chandler, and Dodwell, who describe often picturesque contemporary popular perceptions of its virtues, ranging from its beneWts to health, to its wine-like potency and immunity to Xies.134 SigniWcantly, Dodwell also describes its paramount role in the economic life of the Attic monasteries of his day: 129 J. E. Jones (1976), 88–91. 130 Geroulanos (1973b), 443–8, with pls. 83–5; J. E. Jones (1976), 82–8. 131 See Geroulanos (1973b), 443–8, esp. n. 246; J. E. Jones (1976), 86. 132 See ibid. 91. Agora V 19 F89 pl. 38; Agora P 17148, P 14481 pl. 38. 133 See Strab. 9.1.23. Attic or Hymettan honey is mentioned in Ar. Horai fr. 581 K-A (¼ Ath. 9.372b–d); Ath. 1.33e, 10.432c; Antiphanes (Homonymoi fr. 177 K–A ¼ Ath. 2.43b–c, 3.74d–e); Archestratus (fr. 62 Ribbeck ¼ Ath. 3.101d); Theophr. Char. 21.14; Machon (in Ath. 13.582f); Petron. Sat. 38.3. For other ‘‘trademark luxuries’’, the essential passage is Ath. 1.27d–28d, which includes the well-known fragment of Hermippus (fr. 63 K-A) on goods imported to Athens. Naming the place of origin of a good serves to identify it no less than the status of its consumer; for the wide application of this phenomenon in the ancient world (so in common with the modern), see Brun (1997), 401–9; Foxhall (1998); Wilkins (2000), 160; Dalby (1996), 124–9. 134 See Dodwell (1819), 479–80.



The best honey is produced at the monasteries of Sirgiani and Kareas, but other parts of Attica produce nearly as good, and it forms a considerable part of the income of the monastery of Pentelikon . . . [where] their principal wealth consists of olives and honey; the latter of which is a little, if at all, inferior to that of Hymettos, as both mountains produce a variety of thymes and aromatic plants; and Pentelikon has more numerous apiaries than any other part of Attica. It furnishes the Seraglio at Constantinople with an annual supply of 9,000 pounds weight of honey [about 4 tons] and this is in the form of a gift, as the monastery is free from the usual impositions, and possesses great privileges and immunities.135

We can note, by comparison, that apiculture at Trachones yielded up to 3 tons of honey per year. The honey harvest would occur in the Wrst half of July for the best honey collected by the bees in June (the period of the thyme blossom), and again in September.136 Euonymon’s honey production probably reached similar yearly volumes relative to its area of territory (i.e. totalling over 15 tons), and followed similar harvesting patterns. As Theophrastus explains, Classical ºØ

ıæª regarded the thyme blossoms around the summer solstice as the source of the bees’ honey (of course, Hymettan thyme was itself a specialty).137 At a price of 5 dr. per kotyle, 15 tons of honey would be worth almost 38 talents.138 In other words, Euonymon’s yearly production of olives and honey alone could purchase enough wheat to feed about 12,000 adults per year. These few archaeologically attested examples obviously do not provide an exhaustive description of Euonymon’s agriculture, but rather a broad notion of the importance of cash-crops in its economy. Just as signiWcant (though much more fragmentary) are examples of the diversiWcation of Euonymon’s economic activity into the areas of manufacture and industry. Anytos, the son of Anthemion and prosecutor of Socrates, is one of the most famous members of the deme: his family owed its considerable wealth to a tannery and shoe factory, probably located in the asty or in Euonymon itself.139 135 Ibid. 468. 136 Geroulanos (1973b), 446, 448. 137 Theophr. HP 6.2.3; cf. Plin. NH 21.57. On thyme, see Eubulus fr. 18 K-A ¼ Ath. 1.28d: . . . Ł  H + &

ø . . .; Theophr. HP 6.7.2 (¼ Ath. 15.681f); Hicesius (in Ath. 15.689c); Dalby (1996), 26–7. 138 Weighing approximately 1.36 kg per litre, 15 tons of honey equals c.11,000 litres. See Plut. De tranq. anim. 470e10–470f6 for the price of honey and other luxuries in Athens. 139 See APF, 40–1.



Other demesmen, including the family of the Olympiodoros mentioned earlier, are known as frequent lessees of the silver mines.140 Considering both the geographic and suburban location of the deme, such activities were probably very typical. The evidence of intensive agriculture and landscape homogeneity also has enormous social repercussions. For agricultural integration is intimately linked to social integration: it is clear, for example, that the channelling of a stream running past the acropolis of Euonymon will have had serious repercussions for the water supply of Halimous;141 or that growing similar crops, as indicated by a systematic use of the land, would have aVected neighbours who wanted to sow, harvest, buy, or sell the same products at the same times of the year.142 Regional disputes and needs arising from these circumstances would need to be resolved.143 The intense spread of ancient remains over this area reXects the development of a settlement pattern based on economic and social interactions at the level of the region rather than of the deme.144 I do not mean to imply, however, that this completely eVaced the territorial coherence of the deme.145 We can appreciate the considerable tension between deme-based and region-based attractions by looking at the border area between Halimous and Euonymon (see 140 Osborne (1985), p. 208; APF, 161–5, 226. For the famous example of leasing of slaves to the mines, an activity yielding individual incomes of 3 to 10 talents per year in the Wfth century, see Xen. Vect. 4.14–15. 141 Geroulanos (1981): see n. 68 above. 142 The demand on shared or hired labour is an example that comes instantly to mind: see Ste Croix (1981), 186 and Amouretti (1986), 200–16, with Osborne (1985), 143–6 (stressing the likely importance of kin and neighbour relationships in working the land). 143 See the classic example, Dem. 55, a dispute over drainage and water damage. 144 In this connection, consider the recent suggestion by Matthaiou, based on the epigraphic evidence, that Aixone had more than one deme ‘‘centre’’ (1992–8), 168. Aixone would thus join other demes with multiple foci like Sunium (see Stanton (1996), 342; Osborne (1985), 37), Aphidna (see Osborne (1985), 37), and Marathon (see Traill (1986), 147–8; Travlos (1988), 216–57). Cf. the case of Atene, with no apparent deme centre: Lohmann (1993), 126–9. Oliver (2001), 150, is correct in stressing the intra-regional variation of settlement patterns, and emphasizing the need for micro-regional study. 145 The case for a territorial basis of the Attic demes is laid out by Langdon (1985b), against the older theory of demes as isolated villages defended by Thompson and held by Finley, Lewis, and others. Lewis sums up the controversy well in his review of Eliot: ‘‘Our fundamental diVerence of opinion seems to be whether Kleisthenes was interested in land or people. For E., he was drawing lines on a map; I think he was drawing up deme



Fig. 3. Border area between Euonymon and Halimous. Left: E. Curtius and J. Kaupert (eds.), Karten von Attika, IV. Right: British School at Athens Archives, U23 Royal Air Force 3043.

Figure 3). The notional Thiessen boundary between the two demes follows this area’s natural contours particularly well, cutting exactly across a hill marked as 54.4 m high in KvA.146 Here in 1929 Wrede discovered the remains of a Byzantine basilica of the Wfth or sixth century ad built over a temple of Archaic and Classical times. He made preliminary reports of a stone altar, numerous small archaic statuettes, and Classical dedicatory reliefs and inscriptions indicating the cult of Demeter, and seeming to support his identiWcation of the temple as the Thesmophorion of Halimous mentioned by Pausanias and Plutarch.147 Unfortunately, a detailed study of this material registers. E. thinks of a deme as a territory; for me, it is much more the group of people living in that territory.’’ The considerable number of horoi now known (see Stanton (1985), 353–63) has lent increasing support to Langdon’s side. 146 The hill is known as Mikro Pani, or Ayia Anna, apparently from the name given to the basilica: see Geroulanos (1973a), 27, Beilage 1. The photograph was taken from 8,800 m on 18 September 1944 (BSA Archives U23 RAF 3043). The minor road running E–W across the photograph two-thirds of the way down (between the two hills) is today the large Leophoros Alimou. 147 Paus. 1.31.1; Plut. Sol. 8; see Frazer (1913), 398 (who identiWes Trachones with Halimous, see n. 52 above): ‘‘Since Pausanias mentions the sanctuary of Demeter in



has never been published, and the archaeological exploration of the hill itself is no longer possible.148 The summit, overlooking the northern end of the Helleniko runways, was completely hollowed out and destroyed by bunkers and gun emplacements during World War II. Whether or not the preliminary reports alone warrant continuing to call this sad site a Thesmophorion, the sanctuary does seem to mark the boundary of a deme, as described by Polignac’s theories on the relationship of town and border sanctuary.149 However, from a regional perspective this area is far from liminal. Short distances of only 1,300 m in opposite directions separate the sanctuary from the centres of Euonymon and Halimous respectively, and more importantly there are abundant traces of ancient terracing and recorded Steinhu¨gel surrounding it on every side. Just to the east below the sanctuary, and sitting directly downstream from the Euonymon channel-works discussed above (p. 45), KvA and the aerial photographs even show a considerable area of ancient settlement, measuring approximately 25,000 m2 .150 This shows how an area could simultaneously be cut by deme boundaries and integrated by the economic and habitation patterns of a wider region. Within this integrated economic, social, and habitational system it is likely that Euonymon, the largest deme among its neighbours, played a signiWcant role. A recently discovered fourth-century decree of the Marathonian Tetrapolis presents an interesting example of

connection with Halimous, not with Cape Colias (1.1.5), we may suppose that the sanctuary stood a little inland, between the cape and the town. But that it cannot have been far inland is proved by the narrative of Plutarch . . . who tells us that the Megarians sent a vessel to Cape Colias with the intention of waylaying and kidnapping the women who were celebrating the Thesmophoria there.’’ Wrede (1934), 13, 29; Karo (1930), 100; Be´quignon (1929), 496; see Travlos (1988), 6, 14 (Wgs. 19–20). For Wrede’s other activities in Greece, see n. 98 above. 148 Arvanitopoulou (1960), 51–5, published a general description of the hill and the terrain immediately surrounding it as they appeared after the war, including Wve interesting photographs of the abundant ancient remains still to be found on the latter (pottery, building foundations, a marble drum from a Doric column). 149 See Polignac (1995), 33, 72–3. 150 From this area comes an Early Geometric sherd found by Wrede in 1929; see Geroulanos (1973a), 27, Taf. 51.4, and a fragmentary Late Archaic grave stele (Pologiorgi (1989)).



this kind of deme interaction.151 The decree, found in the excavations at Rhamnous, shows the confederacy of Marathon, Oenoe, Tricorynthus, and Probalinthus voting honours to one of its members, and ordering it to be proclaimed in a theatre, on the day of tragedic performances at the Dionysia (˜Ø ı ø E æƪø E), that the honorand had the right of proedria. The inscription does not specify either the theatre or the shrine to Dionysus in which the stele was to stand, but its secure Fundort at Rhamnous shows that, at least on this occasion, the Tetrapolis was using both of these facilities there rather than at Marathon.152 If weadmit the likely possibilityof similar arrangements existing between Euonymon and its neighbours, it is necessary (for a future study) to re-examine Eliot’s relocation of at least some of the Aixone decrees, and to reconsider a Standort in the theatre at Euonymon.153

V. AT TICA AND THE ATHENIAN MARKET Much of our non-literary evidence, excepting the Aixone lease, is unfortunately dated too vaguely to allow its integration into a detailed chronological framework. It is therefore tempting to follow the evidence from Atene, the best-surveyed Attic deme to date, and to assume that Euonymon also reached the peak of its economic prosperity in the fourth century, building a signiWcant part of its agricultural infrastructure at that time.154 In such a case, even the bouleutic 151 See also Lohmann (1993), 288, for a similar example from Myrrhinous illustrated by IG II2 1182, and raising an interesting instance of theatre-leasing as a source of revenue for demes. 152 Marathonian decree: Petrakos (1999b), 14–15. On the term Fundort, see n. 43 above. It should be noted that three of the four members of the Tetrapolis formed a trittys with Rhamnous, whereas Aixone, Halimous, and Euonymon were in diVerent tribes. 153 It is interesting to note, with Papagiannopoulos (1929), 170 n. 120, that three of these Wve Aixone inscriptions explicitly say they originally stood K fiH Ł æfiø (IG II2 1197, 1198, 1202) and that a fragmentary fourth probably did so as well (IG II2 1200). These are all fourth-century honoriWc inscriptions in which choregoi and other benefactors of the deme Aixone receive praise and privileges, golden crowns and proedria, before the spectators in a theatre. On only one occasion (IG II2 1202) is it speciWed that a theatre is at Aixone. 154 Lohmann (1993), 292–3 (the extent of fourth-century infrastructure is impressive at Atene, and Lohmann points to the same kind of intensivist agricultural regime there as I do for Euonymon); I do not follow Foxhall (1997), 123–8, in



quota of the deme, along with most of the other economic factors we discussed above, might be held not to reXect the state of the deme before the fourth century.155 Closer examination, however, shows that Atene’s pattern of development is not at all applicable to a deme like Euonymon with a continuous archaeological record beginning in the eighth century. Euonymon’s growth into the large and prosperous community that we have been studying is a process of the late sixth and early Wfth centuries. Despite its inevitable imprecision, the proposed date of 500 for the origin of systematic land clearance agrees with the roughly contemporary concentration of religious and funerary remains at the border of Euonymon and Halimous: intensiWcation and delimitation are correlative aspects of land pressure.156 The interesting herm dedicated by one Callias to the Euphronides (or Euphronidai) is a monument reXecting Euonymon’s agricultural wealth around 500–480.157 The Wfth century saw the partial covering of an archaic necropolis by the deme centre, the construction of a theatre, and the beginning of epigraphic evidence on the terraced mountainside.158 This pattern of development, as well as the market-oriented economy that we have seen underlying it, revalidates old views regarding the centrality of an Athenian market to its surrounding countryside since at least the Peisistratid era.159 Given the fact that our sources are unanimous regarding the prosperity of Attic farmers under Peisistratus, his 5% tax on produce gives a notion of the size and proWtability of their agricultural surplus.160 Under these conditions, the designation of accepting Atene, ‘‘a dry, indeed marginal part of south-west Attica’’, as a deme in any way diagnostic of Attic settlement before the Wfth and fourth centuries. 155 See Osborne (1996), 302–3, (1985), 43; Traill (1975), xiv. 156 See pp. 53 (Keramopoullos) and 70 (Wrede) above. 157 IG I3 1007: (a)"hæÐ ¯Pjæ jØ   # (b) ˚ƺ Æ K . Lo¨per (1895), 138–41; the herm was discovered ‘‘beim Dorfe [Trachones] selbst, wenig no¨rdlich vom bedachten Ortsbrunnen (Mangani)’’: Milchho¨fer (1907), col. 1157. The Euphronides would be local divinities identiWed by Lo¨per with the Eumenides, daughters of Night, who (also euphemistically) are called ¯Pø  (‘‘of good name’’), like the deme itself. But see Parker (1996), 324–5, who presents linguistic reasons to see a human group (the Euphronidai), instead of divinities. 158 See pp. 44 (Geroulanos, Goette) and 57–8 (Langdon) above. 159 See Wilamowitz-Mo¨llendorV (1893), vol. 2, 70–1; Zimmern (1931), 142–3; French (1964), 56–8, 62. 160 Cf. [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 16.4 (with commentary, Rhodes (1993), 215) and Thuc. 6.54.5; Hdt. 1.59, 64.



land near Hymettos as a tax-free district (øæ I º) was an enormous incentive for cultivation of cash-crops for the asty, as Keramopoullos noted, and helped to transform Euonymon into a large city deme by the time of Cleisthenes. A net increase in population over the following two centuries probably warranted raising the deme’s bouleutic quota from ten to twelve.161 Attempts to minimize the role of trade in the life of the Wfthcentury Athenian deme are misleading. The passage from Aristophanes’ Acharnians in which the protagonist, Dicaeopolis of Cholleidai (a small inland deme), complains that the Peloponnesian War forced him to buy supplies in the asty is often cited in such arguments:162 . . . I gaze oV to the countryside and pine for peace, loathing the city and yearning for my own deme, that never cried ‘‘buy charcoal,’’ ‘‘buy vinegar,’’ ‘‘buy oil’’; it didn’t know the word ‘‘buy’’; no, it produced everything itself, and the Buy Man was out of sight.163

This can be read as a ‘‘direct denial of local marketing’’ only in blindness to comic exaggeration and to the dramatic context of the passage. The protagonist, of course, reveals himself as the consummate customer shortly after uttering these words, buying a peace treaty for himself and spending the last half of the comedy trading with Peloponnesians, Megarians, and Boeotians.164 Additional comic eVect is produced by the fact that charcoal, one of the products listed by Dicaeopolis, appears in the burlesque parody of Euripides’ Telephus as the ‘‘child’’ of the Acharnian chorus, taken hostage (‘‘Pelt me, if you like! And I’ll murder this!’’, cries the rustic from Cholleidai as he holds a knife to the basket containing the most important export good of the wealthy deme).165 The joke operates on many registers. Acharnians demands an audience that, far from being unacquainted with buying and selling in a market, regards these as parts of everyday life. This conclusion is made clear by another Aristophanic passage, a fragment possibly from a dialogue between two gods. It appears in Seasons (Horai), and is worth quoting in full: 161 See Traill (1975), 58–60. 162 Osborne (1987), 108; see Ehrenberg (1962), 88. Cholleidai: Ar. Ach. 406; see Traill (1975), 46. 163 Ar. Ach. 32–6 (Loeb trans.). 164 See Ar. Ach. 189–200 (choosing a peace treaty assimilated to wine-tasting); 623–5. 165 Ar. Ach. 331 (Loeb trans.).



Speaker A. You will see, in midwinter, cucumbers, grapes, fruit, wreaths of violets, roses and lilies—a dust-cloud utterly blinding. The same man sells thrushes, pears, honeycomb, olives, beestings, haggis, celandine, cicadas, embryo-meat. You can see baskets of Wgs and myrtle-berries together, covered with snow, and what is more, they sow cucumbers at the same time with turnips, so that nobody knows any longer what time of the year it is . . . Avery great boon, if one may get throughout the year whatever he wants. Speaker B. A very great evil, rather! For if they couldn’t get these things, they wouldn’t be so eager for them and spend so much money on them. As for me, I would supply these things for a brief season and then take them away. A. I too do that for other cities, but not for Athens. The Athenians enjoy all these things because they revere the gods. B. Much good, then, does it do them for revering you, as you say! A. Why, how is that? B. You have made their city Egypt instead of Athens.166

Between them Acharnians and Seasons show that the real economy of the Attic demes lay somewhere between the two fantastic and comic exaggerations of Cholleidai and Egypt. But where? The example of Euonymon demonstrates that we must take very seriously the production and sale of a variety of cash-crops and delicacies—not just olives and honey, but also wine and vinegar, timber and charcoal, and many of the vegetables, Xowers, fruits, medical plants, birds, and snacks listed by Aristophanes. The booths that sold these products (and others) are well documented by literary sources in and near the Athenian agora.167 Thanks to the waterways and roadways that connected Piraeus and Athens with Attica and beyond, they were in principle available year-round and this seemed to defy nature.168 Such a market—indeed, even the possibility of exaggerating such a market—belongs in a context where the economic life of countryside and city are closely intertwined.169 166 Ar. Horai fr. 581 K-A ¼ Ath. 9.372b–d (Loeb trans.). See the very similar exchange in the Olbia of Eubulus fr. 74 K-A ¼ Ath. 14.640b–c (fourth century). 167 Wycherley (1957), 185–206. 168 On Piraeus as a universal supermarket, see Isoc. 4.42; [Xen.] Ath. Pol. 2.7; Thuc. 2.38; Hermippus fr. 63 K-A. 169 See Braudel (1972), 386, with 570 for the example of sixteenth-century Florence: ‘‘From the surrounding contado, Florence obtained her timber, oil, vegetables, poultry, produce, fantastic numbers of casks of wine, game and birds which peasants sold in bunches at the city gates . . . only large cities could aVord the luxury


Archaeology V I . C ON C LU S I ON

The agricultural economy of the southern Athenian plain can be proWtably studied using archaeology, aerial photography, and comparative information from modern agriculture. In the case of the deme Euonymon during the Classical Period, we have evidence of its strong economic relationship with the asty, the practice of a type of agriculture designed to supply the city market, and the regular need for imported grain. Evidence of the intensive and systematic use of agricultural space by Euonymon and its neighbours, Halimous and Aixone, reXects an economy based on a central market, not on demebased or even regional subsistence. This qualiWes the importance of agricultural activity in this part of Attica, and has interesting consequences for the ways in which members of diVerent demes interacted socially and politically. Despite the destruction of the area’s original beauty by complete urbanization, it is still possible to glimpse the living landscape of the Athenian pedion.

of importing such a bulk commodity over long distances’’. See Erdkamp’s use of the latter passage to describe the grain supply of the Roman world (2005), 204–5. Contrast N. F. Jones (2004), 14: ‘‘when the rural resident passed through a gate of the Themistoclean fortiWcations and came into contact with the dominant cultures of the intramural populations, nothing less than a thoroughgoing inversion of all that was familiar, accepted, and valued was in the oYng’’, and passim; Rathbone (1983), 47; Rosivach (2000), 50–1, 57–8, for unconvincing scenarios of social and economic separation, virtually autarkic isolation, between Athens and Attica.

3 The Fruits of Empire I . AT H E N S A N D E U B O E A Around the year 380, Isocrates wrote his Panegyricus in praise of Athens. His aim was to cast the city, whose tyranny a new generation of Greeks had not experienced Wrst hand, as the deserving leader of a future Panhellenic conquest of Persia. This radical makeover demanded an eloquent denial of earlier Athenian imperialism, including the most deeply resented of all its manifestations—the oYcial conWscation and distribution of foreign land to Athenian cleruchs: For these reasons it beWts all thinking people to be deeply grateful to us, much more than to reproach us for our cleruchies, which we sent into the depopulated states for the protection of their territories and not through greed. And here is the proof: we had in proportion to the number of our citizens a very small territory, but a very great empire; we possessed not only twice as many warships as all other states combined, but these were strong enough to engage double their number. Just at the very doorstep of Attica lay Euboea, which was not only naturally adapted to the rule of the sea, but also surpassed all the islands in every other advantage; we had greater control over it than over our own country, and besides we knew that both among the Greeks and among the barbarians those have the highest reputation who, having made their neighbors refugees, obtain for themselves a life of aZuence and ease. Nevertheless, none of these factors tempted us to do the island wrong; instead, we alone of those who have obtained great power allowed ourselves to live more poorly than those accused of having been our slaves.1

These eloquent words no doubt rang extremely hollow. Euboea, the ‘‘large and wealthy island’’ ( B  ªº ŒÆd PÆ ø ) that 1 Isoc. 4.107–9.





Cape Artemision 10 Agriovotano 11 Gouvai 9 Ellinika





Oreoi/Histiaea 6

Histiaia Histiala

Cape Lefka


7 4 5

2 1







Ay. Anna 13



Cape Kenaion

Rovies 19 20

Likha des Islands


Dhafni 18

21- 24











Prokoplon Prokopion








reu R.Ke




R. Ne


Pyxaria Pyxaria

Kandhill Khandili


Dhafni Politiká 25 27 Cape Mnima 26



Psakhná 30-33 34






MANIKA 35 Khalia



47 CHALKIS 36-44 Phylla 46 Vasilikón


48-51 52









20 km

CONTOURS AT 200m., 500., 1000m.

Map 2. Euboea.


Lamari Androniani Andronianl 80

Makrikapa 28 Steni Kathení Kathení

Cape Khili



Dhirlys Dhirfys


81 Potamia 78



75-7 29



Avlonarion 72-4

Theologos Olympos Olympos

53 54 Kamarion

60 61 Yimnoú


ERETRIA 56-7 59 58



71 Katakaloú 68 ALIVERI 69Lepoura 63-6 70 67 Velousia Koakino Koskino 85 DYSTOS


Zarka 86




Almyropotamos Almyropotamos


I C Rhamnous A Aigilia


Cape Kaphereus

Philagra 89

Archampolis Okha

Marmari 90 Marmarl Rafina

Petali Islands







allegedly tempted Persia to conquer the Aegean in 500, had long been a prime target of Athenian ambition.2 Did Isocrates expect his audience to forget the ‘‘horse-feeding’’ Hippobotai, the Chalcidian aristocracy, whose fertile lands had become the Wrst conquest of the post-Peisistratid democracy, expropriated and distributed in kleroi to 4,000 Athenians in 506?3 The shackles of the enemy prisoners and a monumental bronze quadriga, Athena’s share of the spoils, still recalled the defeat of Chalcis to visitors of the Acropolis at the time of Pausanias.4 The quadriga that had been destroyed or removed by the Persians had been rededicated, probably in 446, and Athens thus rubbed salt on a wound made even deeper.5 For in that year Pericles had quickly and ruthlessly crushed the revolt not just of Chalcis, but of the entire island of Euboea, exiling the Histiaeans, expropriating their land for Athenian cleruchs, and pacifying the rest ‘‘by agreement’’ (we shall see below what this meant).6 Plutarch ampliWes this report by adding the forces that Pericles took (Wfty ships and 5,000 hoplites), his justiWcation for making refugees of the Histiaeans (they allegedly killed the crew of one Athenian ship), and the fact that, for the second time, he expelled the Hippobotai.7 Not until 411 did Euboea make a successful break from Athens, a loss that according to Thucydides terriWed the Athenians even more than the Sicilian disaster, for ‘‘on Euboea they were more dependent than on Attica’’.8 Given this historical background, not to mention Athens’ all too emphatic protest in 378/7 that her leadership of a Second League would not revert to any form of occupation of allied land,9 it is doubtful that Isocrates found anyone to believe his words.10 Is it perhaps more 2 Hdt. 5.31. 3 Hdt. 5.77. On the cavalry aristocracies of Chalcis and Eretria, see Arist. Pol. 1289b35–40. Compounds of ¥  as personal names are very prevalent at Eretria: see the prosopographical analysis in Wallace (1947), 128–30. 4 Hdt. 5.77, who records the dedicatory epigram; Paus. 1.28.2. 5 See GHI 15 (¼IG I3 501): the preserved fragments of both the Wrst and the later inscription. 6 Thuc. 1.114. 7 Plut. Per. 23. 8 Thuc. 8.96. 9 GHI II 22, ll. 25–46. ‘‘Disavowal of ownership of real property in allied territories is the most thoroughly spelled-out promise of the decree of Aristoteles’’ (Cargill (1981), 146). As Gauthier says (1972), 170, this clause gives ‘‘comme une vision ‘en ne´gatif ’ de la 1re Confe´de´ration athe´nienne’’. 10 Isocrates, like any good lawyer, makes no factual misrepresentations in the passage quoted: Histiaea was in fact Kæ  ı and depopulated (because it had

The Fruits of Empire


understandable that the role of Euboea in the Wfth-century Athenian grain supply is currently undervalued? Direct literary evidence for grain exports from the island is non-existent outside a few scattered references in Thucydides and Aristophanes, and these are usually taken to imply that Athens relied on grain from Euboea only during the relatively narrow period of the Peloponnesian War.11 The chief aim of this chapter is to refute this modern view by means of a variety of evidence, most of it long known but never systematically applied to our question. We will see that Euboea played an important role as a producer of Athenian grain from 506, and was Athens’ main granary from 446 to 411. Comparative evidence from the cleruchies of Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros in the fourth century will also be adduced. At the outset, however, we must reacquire a sense of the signiWcance and potential of Euboean agriculture. This was well understood by earlier scholars and travellers, whose works now tend to encounter tenacious academic recalcitrance.12

I I . T H E BI G P I C T UR E : E U B O E A N AG R I C U LT U R E , GEOGRAPHY, AND HISTORY Geyer long ago compiled a thorough collection of the Classical references (mostly textual but some numismatic) to the proverbial wealth of Euboea in grain, oxen, swine, sheep, goats, hens, hounds, horses, wine, olives, Wgs, pears, apples, forests, nuts, Wsh, purpura been made so by the Athenians!), and the expression Pb  ø A KBæ æd

f  Æ c B KÆÆæ E is suitably vague. There are no modern scholars even seemingly prepared to take Isocrates at his word, except (surprisingly) Meiggs (1972), 567. See Conclusion, pp. 315–16. 11 So Garnsey (1988), 132–3; Westlake (1948), 2–5. 12 See e.g. Westlake (n. 40 below); see also Picard’s work on fourth- to Wrst-century Euboean history (1979), 338–9: ‘‘Les historiens modernes ont cru que l’Eube´e e´tait alors une grande re´gion exportatrice de ble´; l’ıˆle aurait e´te´ le grenier traditionnel d’Athe´nes; c’est par convois entiers que le ble´ eube´en serait arrive´ dans la ville. Je ne sais comment une ˆıle aussi montagneuse aurait pu donner des re´coltes de cette importance . . . rien ne permet de faire de l’Eube´e une terre a` ble´ fortement exportatrice.’’ Among the earlier historians criticized by Picard are Gernet (1909), 308–10; Jarde´ (1925), 194; and Michell (1940), 260–2.



shells, ores, marble, and salt.13 Philippson systematically studied Euboea’s topography and geography, and assembled all earlier work from antiquity to the twentieth century.14 Bakhuizen has most recently compiled the existing evidence on the sizes and limits of the territories of Classical Histiaea,15 Chalcis,16 and Eretria (see Map 2).17 It is not my intention to retrace their steps much further than my footnotes indicate, or even to focus on the famously rich Lelantine plain between Chalcis and Eretria, that rich volcanic vineyard which Geyer vividly describes as a vast garden.18 It is more impressive to focus on the less famous territory of Classical Histiaea, which stretched over the northern third of the 13 See Geyer (1903), 14–19. The comic poet Sopater (4th–3rd c.) called Eretria ‘‘the city of white barley-meal’’: ¯æ æØÆ ‰æŁ  N ºıŒºØ (ap. Ath. 4.160b). Theophrastus (HP 8.4.4, plagiarized by Pliny NH 18.70) discusses light wheats from Euboea and especially from Carystus. The soil types of Chalcis, Kerinthos, and Eretria also Wnd frequent ancient references, see Geyer (1903), 18 n. 4. 14 See Philippson (1950–9), vol. 1.2, 561–637. 15 Histiaea occupied the end of Euboea stretching west of the range running W–E, at opposite ends of which stand Mts. Aegae (mod. Kandhı´li) and Pyxaria: see Bakhuizen, p. 127. It included the towns of Orobiae and Kerinthos. The ‘‘farming districts here’’ consist of the valleys of the Cereus and Neleus, and the Histiaean plain. The total area of the territory is approximately 1,000 km2 ; cf. IACP 656. At the western tip of the island, Cape Kenaion (probably the territory of the small polis of Dium) seems also to have been part of the Athenian cleruchic settlement, undergoing the foundation of Athenae Diades: see Strab. 10.1.5: `ŁB ÆØ Æƒ ˜ Æ, Œ Æ `Ł Æ ø , !æŒ 

F Kd ˚F  æŁ F with IG I3 41, ll. 101–2. 16 See Bakhuizen (1985), 127: ‘‘The Chalcidian territory proper is marked by natural geographical boundaries . . . It has roughly the shape of half a circle (radius c. 17 to 20 km) [i.e. 907–1,256 km2 , so up to about half the total area of Attica]. It is a basin which is enclosed by an almost unbroken succession of mountain ranges to the north, east and south-east, but which is open to the Euboean Sea along the base of the half circle (length: c. 34 km).’’ Bakhuizen (1985), 130–2, divides this into Wve ‘‘farming districts’’: (1) the foothills of Mt. Aegae (mod. Kandhı´li); (2) the alluvial Psachna plain; (3) the land between the Psachna and Lelantine plains; (4) the Lelantine plain; and (5) the coastal strip from the Lelantine plain to the eastern border with Classical Eretria (near modern Malakondas). 17 This territory stretched east–southeast from the range running southwest– northeast, at opposite ends of which stand Mts. Voudho´khi (anc. Olympus) and Alokte´ri; the southeast border was with Styra, which seems to have been independent: see Bakhuizen (1985), 123; Wallace (1947), 115 n. 2, and 129. The ‘‘farming districts’’ here consist of the Eretrian plain, the Aliveri valley, the coastal valleys near modern Kyme, and the inland valleys at Avlonarion, Lepoura, and Dystos. The total area of this territory is approximately 900 km2. 18 Geyer (1903), 15–16 (‘‘ein wahrer Garten . . . eine Stunde breit’’); the ancient testimonia on this plain are on p. 16 n. 1; see IACP, 643–63.

The Fruits of Empire


island.19 The beauty and fertility of this country have never failed to elicit the lavish praise of European travellers, who variously compare it to the Swiss landscape or to the Arcadia of Poussin.20 Strabo himself believed that its two well-watered rivers (an abnormality in insular Greece) were magic: sheep drinking from the Cereus turned white, and from the Neleus black.21 Such views may be impressionistic or romantic, but they strike at a fundamental truth: Euboea is not a typical Aegean island. It is in fact hardly an island at all, as was well recognized in antiquity, being separated from the mainland for its entire length by an average of only 12 km of water, which at Chalcis narrow to a mere 72.5 m.22 Geographically, geologically, and climatically Euboea belongs much less to the world of the Aegean than to that of continental central Greece, from Boeotia to Thessaly.23 The peculiar fact that a herd of red Devon cows could be imported to this island in the 1960s, ‘‘to improve the dairy farming in the area’’, almost invites belief in Strabo’s magic rivers.24 The territory of Histiaea, like those of Eretria and Chalcis, turns out to have little in common with arid Attica.25 In ad 1833, while he still could, the Xeeing Ottoman grandee Hadji Ismail Bey sold his feudal estate located in the territory of ancient Histiaea, at Achmetaga (mod. Prokopi), to Edward Noel and Fredrick Fellenberg. These were men educated in the (then-famous) 19 See n. 15 above; see also Bakhuizen (1985), 140 n. 33, 141 n. 42; see more detailed maps in Sackett et al. (1966). 20 Many of these accounts are collected in Noel-Baker (2000), 29–30, 47, 50–1, 182, 184, 191, 264–5, 326–7; Lancaster (1947), 106–9: ‘‘. . . across a wide and fertile valley, through groves of plane trees, reputed to be even larger and older than those in the Vale of Tempe itself . . .’’; Buchon (1911), 47–8: ‘‘. . . le plus beau ravin que j’aie encore vu . . . une ve´ritable retraite pour un poe¨te’’; Teller (1880), 129: ‘‘Nur wenige Gebiete des heutigen Hellas ko¨nnen sich in bezug auf landschaftliche Scho¨nheit mit diesem Eilande messen, das in seinem engen Rahmen die vershiedenartigsten Bilder umschließt, Gema¨lde von wilder Großartigkeit, wie sie dem ho¨heren Kalkgebirge eigen sind, und Szenerien von weicherem freundlicherem Charakter, wie sie die tiefen, schattigen, im herrlichsten Vegetationsschmuck prangenden Talkessel der Schieferregion oder die fruchtbaren, gartena¨hnlichen Tertia¨rbecken darbieten’’. 21 Strab. 10.1.14. 22 Ephorus FGrHist 70 F119 ¼ Strab. 9.2.2. The bridge across was built in 410 with Boeotian help (Diod. 13.47.3): see Bakhuizen (1985), 48–49. 23 See Philippson (1950–9), vol. 1.2, 568. 24 Noel-Baker (2000), 338. 25 See e.g. Buchon (1911), 47–8: ‘‘. . . l’andrachni (arbousier a` tronc de corail) qui n’est qu’un arbrisseau dans l’Attique, croıˆt ici a` l’e´gal des plus grandes arbres’’.



agricultural and philosophical academy at Hofwyl, Berne, and intent on starting a similar institution in the newly independent Greece.26 Although they had little money, they engaged immediately to pay the asking price: 10,000 pounds sterling, all in cash, which they considered a bargain.27 From the price alone it is clear that the buyers knew good alluvial lands when they saw them.28 In a letter of that year, Noel writes to his brother in England: You cannot have an idea of the richness of the soil and advantages to be derived in Greece. The content of the possession I have cannot be short of 15,000 acres, more than half of which is covered with Wne forests of pine and other timber, which, if felled and sent to Syra for ship-building, would be more than adequate to pay for the purchase money.29

Today the Noels still own their estate, perhaps the last surviving bastion of Frankish feudalism left in Greece.30 The agricultural use of Achmetaga under these English and Swiss owners is surprisingly suggestive of conditions in antiquity. Timber felling was for a time the principal industry of their estate. Besides the ships (Noel writes), ‘‘many houses in Athens will yet, I trust, be built of Achmetaga produce’’.31 (This recalls the wealthy Athenian Meidias of Anagyrous exporting from Euboea (along with cattle) fences, door-posts, and pit-props for his silver mines in 348.32) The exporting of Achmetaga grain took more 26 The former was a gentleman cousin of Lady Byron, the latter an aristocrat, son of Hofwyl’s founder, Philipp Emanuel von Fellenberg. See Noel-Baker (2000). Control of Euboea had been formally transferred to the Greek state under the London Protocol of 1830 but Turkish ownership was respected: see Philippson (1950–9), vol. 1.2, 635. 27 Edward Noel in Noel-Baker (2000), 50–1: ‘‘I was obliged to decide before hearing the advice of friends, as every day the land rose in price and if not purchased directly from the Turks, who are to leave the country, would fall into the hands of Greek speculators, who would make you pay threefold’’. The purchasing power of £10,000 in 1833 is approximately equivalent to that of £637,000 in 1998: Twigger (1999). 28 For the precise composition of the soil, see Zvorykin (1939); a scientiWc description of the landscape appears in Philippson (1950–9), vol. 1.2, 585–9. 29 Noel-Baker (2000), 51. 30 See Buchon (1911), 54–5, who discusses a rent in kind collected by the Noels in 1841 from their peasant tenants at a warehouse at Drasi: the rent was a third of their harvest, compared to the fourth then being levied by the Greek government for the use of public lands. 31 Edward Noel: letter dated 23 November 1836 (Noel-Baker 2000, 89). Cf. Theophr. HP 5.2.1. 32 Dem. 21.167; Meiggs (1982), 194, 206 suggests that Attica and Euboea would have been the source for Athenian rebuilding after 480/79, and normally for fuel.

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eVort to arrange: Fellenberg was dead and Noel ill from malaria only months after their arrival. The Cereus river valley, with its multiple springs and low water table, is marshy mosquito-country that needs to be dammed, drained, and irrigated before it can be farmed.33 But eventually, Noel and his new Swiss associate, Karl von Mu¨ller, began to export grain along with timber. SigniWcantly, they did so from the nearby site of ancient Kerinthos, once a deme of Histiaea. . . . at the mouth of the river Boudoros caiques could load the timber and grain oV the cliVs. Above this small natural harbor on the ancient site of Kerinthos, Noel and Mu¨ller had built a warehouse to store their merchandise awaiting shipment. The ruins of it are still to be seen among the scattered remains of the ancient town which supplied the stone for its construction. Today the harbor is silted up and the anchorage is gone.34

We have slight, but fortunately some, record of labour and grain yields at Achmetaga at this time. It comes from the disappointed comments of the American Henry Baird (the ultimate source evidently being Noel himself): Though [Euboea’s] dimensions are almost precisely those of Long Island, the population, according to Mr. N., is but seventy-Wve thousand. So sparse a population is insuYcient to cultivate the island to any considerable extent with the agricultural implements now in use. The Welds are said not to yield much more than a third as much grain as those of an equal extent in England: and this, although Euboea was once the granary of Athens! All the land is divided into two categories, one half being sown with wheat and the other lying fallow according to the popular notion, that is, cultivated with Indian corn (maize).35

By the standards of the grain yields obtained in England (during what has recently been called its agricultural ‘‘golden age’’), it is not surprising that Achmetaga paled.36 (The average yield of wheat in England in the 1850s, about 27 bushels per acre, or 1,800 kg per hectare, was more than twice as great as in Ireland.37) Thanks to Noel’s general Wgure of ‘‘a third’’, we can see that the land of Achmetaga in his day 33 See Noel-Baker (2000), 62–3, 179; Philippson (1950–9), vol. 1.2, 585. Sallares (2000), 17–42, makes the case (supported by the latest microbiological evidence) for the presence of malaria in Greece as far back as the eighth century. 34 Noel-Baker (2000), 126–7. 35 Baird (ap. ibid. 184). 36 Turner et al. (2001), 225. 37 Ibid. 129, 161, 218.



must have yielded on average about 600 kg of wheat per hectare. This would surely have been an above-average yield for the whole of Euboea in the 1850s, obtained by capable Western agronomists.38 Nevertheless, it is a Wgure fully compatible with Greek and Euboean yield-trends into the twentieth century, and useful to us because it was obtained intensively but pre-industrially.39 How much grain could the entire island produce? Euboea has an area of 3,653 km2 , of which approximately one third is cultivable and was used in the years 1970 and 1979 as follows (all Wgures in km2 ):40 Table 2.

Land-use on Euboea








1970 1979

586 452

45 49

50 55

205 275

242 288

1,128 1,119

In 1979, Euboea produced a total of 24,173 tons of wheat, 11,977 tons of barley, and 3,226 tons of oats. Assuming for the sake of argument that the land was used in the same proportions in antiquity, we can apply the yields attested for Achmetaga in the 38 Bursian (1862–72), 406–7 describes the Noel estate as: ‘‘. . . jetzt, Dank den Bemu¨hungen aus dem westlichen Europa eingewanderter grosser Grundbesitzer, welche eine rationelle Landwirthschaft und eine rationelle Forstcultur eingefu¨hrt haben, der am besten angebaute Theil der Insel’’; Buchon (1911), 45–6: ‘‘J’entrai dans une de´licieuse petite valle´e dont le centre et tous les Xancs e´taient couverts des ble´s les plus beaux, les plus vastes, les plus purs de toute herbe parasite, et entoure´s de tous coˆte´s de foreˆts verdoyantes; au milieu coulait un ruisseau borde´ d’une double haie dont le vert fonce´ contrastait agre´ablement avec le vert plus tendre des ble´s. C’e´tait pour moi un espectacle nouveau, celui du travail intelligent de l’homme pliant a` son utilite´ les beaute´s et les richesses de la nature.’’ 39 For Greece, see Garnsey (1988), 95 nn. 18–19. The average yield of wheat per hectare in Euboea was 640 kg in 1939, 960 kg in 1951, 936 kg in 1957, 1,193 kg in 1960, and 1,463 kg in 1979. The corresponding Wgure for Greece as a whole in 1979 was 2,235 kg/ha (i.e. about one third higher than in Euboea): Settas (1984), 118–19; Jarde´ (1925), 203, has the Wgure of 835 kg of wheat per hectare for Euboea in 1921: compare how this ranks with e.g. Arcadia (1,153 kg), ‘‘Macedonia’’ (978 kg), Crete (929 kg), ‘‘Attica and Boeotia’’ (697 kg), Chios (494 kg). 40 Area: Settas (1984), 22 (Philippson (1950–9), vol. 1.2, 564) gives the area of Euboea as 3,530 km2 ). My table is based on Wgures in Settas (1984), 121–2. Cf. the following misleading statement by Westlake (1948), 4: ‘‘The cultivable parts of the island are very fertile, but they amount to only about one-Wfth of its area, the remainder being mountainous country Wt only for pasturing sheep’’.

The Fruits of Empire


1850s to estimate an ancient yearly production of about 16,000 tons of grain (equivalent to about 490,000 Attic wheat medimnoi). But with higher proportions of arable land under grains (say 500 km2, still allowing for fallow), one can reasonably expect up to about 30,000 tons (equivalent to 910,000 wheat medimnoi ).41 If anything from ‘‘over two-thirds’’ to the whole of Euboea were under Athenian control in 421, as Andocides and Aeschines claim, would we be right in estimating that Athens controlled at least 610,000 wheat medimnoi per year from Euboea in the period 446– 11?42 I have shown in Chapter 1 that rigid statistics do not take us very far: they are helpful only in outlining what Braudel calls ‘‘the limits of the possible’’. The experience of another maritime empire in Euboea may be even more instructive than our English and Swiss example. Venice’s control of the grain supply of the Aegean and Black Seas, and their passage through the ports of ‘‘Negroponte’’, began in the aftermath of the Fourth Crusade in 1204. Euboea itself needed to import grain (principally from Crete), at least until its oYcial annexation by Venice in 1366.43 (This fact reminds us of a similar phenomenon in the Black Sea, which by the time of Polybius had gone from famous exporter to occasional importer of grain.44) From 1366 until its loss to the Turks in 1470, Euboea was the ‘‘apple of the eye’’ (la pupilla) of the Serene Republic and one of its principal sources of grain, making the island ‘‘the key and foundation of our aVairs’’ (clavis et fundamentum rerum nostrarum) (1454) and the ‘‘most important part of our 41 Receipt records for the Wrst Ottoman tax (in grain) on Euboea have been published (Balta (1989), see esp. 35, 156–7). They would indicate that total grain production on the island was 4–5,000 tons. But such receipts leave us with similar problems to those already seen in relation to IG II2 1672 (including the lack of a secure coeYcient—was the dıˆme one-eighth?): was this a good or bad harvest? How eYcient or corrupt was this Wrst report and collection of the island’s produce for the Ottoman invader? Conversely, what was the impact of Venetian withdrawal? 42 Andoc. 3.9; Aeschin. 2.175. Andocides in particular, it must be remembered, was no competent student of Athenian history, as the ridiculous mistakes peppered throughout his speech immediately demonstrate (see e.g. 3.5, on the fortiWcation of Piraeus). Aeschin. 2.172–6 is, in turn, a plagiarism of Andoc. 3.3–12, pace Harris (2000). I use the term ‘‘controlled’’ narrowly, not meaning to imply that Athens imported this entire amount from Euboea (a local population needed to be fed!). 43 Peyer (1950), 108; Aymard (1966), 47 n. 4; Philippson (1950–9), vol. 1.2, 635. 44 Polyb. 4.38.



disposition’’ (maxima pars status nostri) (1458).45 A large number of towers (Wfty-Wve on the latest count), usually sited on the island’s most fertile plains, is the most enduring physical manifestation of Venice’s agricultural exploitation, and has been the object of recent archaeological study.46 It has been shown that these towers belonged to great Venetian owners of huge agricultural tracts on Euboea.47 In contrast to our meagre Classical documentation, the surviving Venetian evidence for the island’s grain production must be plentiful, but has never, as far as I know, been systematically studied. Nevertheless, the general picture is clearly one of Venetian dependence on grain from the island until the end of the sixteenth century.48 Braudel quotes a letter from Piero de’Medici to Cosimo I dated 14 October 1559: . . . these Signiori [the Venetians] are on the point, with their manoeuvres, of receiving Negroponte as a Wef from the Turk: they are oVering to pay a huge tribute, so great that it is doubtful whether the island would yield so much revenue. And all this is in order to have enough grain for their needs, without passing through France or Spain.49

Documents like these are tantalizing, especially since the population of Venice (120,000 in 1509, 200,000 by 1600) was comparable to that of Classical Athens, and grain consumption rates were similar (about 2 quintals, or 200 kg, of wheat per man per year).50 Many of Venice’s Euboean towers also happen to be sited directly over, or in the near vicinity of, surveyed Classical remains.51 This remains a fruitful opportunity for future collaboration between historians and archaeologists of the Classical and Early Modern Periods.

45 Lock (1996), 108, 110; Aymard (1966), 47. 46 See Lock (1996), 111. 47 See ibid. 110; Philippson (1950–9), 1.2, 704. 48 See Aymard (1966), 3: ‘‘Durant ce demi-sie`cle [1550–1600], Venise importe moins, et souvent de moins loin. Depuis qu’elle a au XVe sie`cle e´tendu sa domination dans la basse et riche plaine padane, elle tend a` demander a` ses territoires de Terre Ferme une contribution de plus en plus importante.’’ 49 In Braudel (1972), 592. The Venetians evidently thought they could do much better than the Ottoman tax collector: see n. 41 above. 50 Aymard (1966), 15–20; see also Braudel (1972), 420–1. 51 See Sackett et al. (1966), 58, 70, Wgs. 10–11.

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I I I . PAT T E R N S O F ATH E N I A N L A N D - H O L D I N G AND T HE AT HENIAN CLERUCHIES ON EUB OEA Our study of Athenian control of Euboea must begin with the basic question: what sort of Athenians owned land there, and what did they do with it? We have our clearest evidence of Athenian land-ownership on Euboea in the fragmentary records of the property conWscated and auctioned after the aristocratic scandals of the Hermokopidai and the Mysteries in 415.52 Oeonias of Atene (‘‘one of the richest men known in Athens at any period’’53) is recorded as owning unharvested crops (including Wgs, grapes, and olives) in the Lelantine plain,54 as well as landed property in Lelanton, Diros, and Geraestus, the collective sale of which is recorded at a massive 81 talents, 2,000 dr.55 There are other fragmentary references to wealthy Athenian overseas properties (!æ æ Æ) on Euboea: at Diros belonging to Nicides of Melite,56 and at Eretria.57 Because we cannot trace legal ownership further back than Oeonias and his fellow aristocrats, it is impossible to say whether this was in origin privately acquired or cleruchic land. It has, however, been convincingly shown that, within certain broad parameters normal to the Greek law of landed property, cleruchic land was alienable.58 Men like Oeonias could, in other 52 For the date, see Pritchett (1953), 232–4. 53 APF, 419. 54 Pritchett (1953), 233, 252 (Stele II, ll. 177–8). 55 Pritchett (1953), 254, 261 (Stele II, ll. 311–14). On Oeonias, see also Andoc. 1.12–13: like Nicides, he was accused of profaning the Mysteries, Xed Athens, and was sentenced to death in absentia. He appears as the owner of two further properties, perhaps at Oropus (see n. 67 below), and at another, unknown, location (Stele X, l. 33). 56 Probably referring to a house and land: see Pritchett (1953), 263 (Stele IV, ll. 15– 21); (1956), 271. 57 Pritchett (1953), 251 (Stele II, ll. 90–5), 274 (Stele VI, ll. 150–1, may refer to Kغ[ Æ K ] ¯æ æ Æ[Ø—] according to Lewis (1966), 190 n. 48, Green and Sinclair (1970), 525 n. 45, and if so would probably refer to slaves (øæ  NŒ F , cf. the other slaves on Stele VI, ll. 20–2) rather than to Athenian oYcials, as assumed by Lewis (1966), 184). 58 The topic is too complex to be discussed here, but see Erxleben (1975), 84–5; Cargill (1981), 192–7; cf. the unfounded doubts by Salomon (1997), 166 nn. 553, 554. See also Finley (1973), 6–7, 122, 147–9, 151 on the horoi evidence (from Lemnos and Scyros), now updated for Lemnos by Salomon (1997), 171–5. Gauthier’s general view



words, amass their collections of Euboean properties by purchasing kleroi from other Athenians. Another inscription from the 420s, a record of the lease of sacred property on Euboea, features one Panaitios as the lessee of property ‘‘in Orobiae, in [the territory of] Histiaea’’.59 He appears to pay rent of 20 dr. per year for an olive grove and land under cereals and vines (ªB łØº).60 The inscription features three other lots in Chalcis (ll. 3, 11, 22), one in Eretria (l. 14), and one in Aigale ‘‘in the [the territory of] Eretria’’ (l. 9), but the lessees’ names have not survived. Following Raubitschek’s sound suggestion, we can identify Panaitios as the man ([—]Æ ÆØ ) whose property appears on the conWscation stelai as K

ÐØ[I]ªæ[ ÐØ]j ÐØ K Ł[ ÐØ . . . ] and K `æ—.61 Erxleben identiWes the Wrst of these locations as the Isthmus of the Kenaion peninsula (west of Histiaea), and guesses that `æ—may be Argura (on the Psachna plain northwest of Chalcis).62 If at least the Wrst hypothesis is correct, Panaitios joins Oeonias in demonstrating that individual Athenians could normally own (or rent) a collection of scattered agricultural properties on Euboea. SigniWcantly, this mirrors the pattern of aristocratic land-holding that we Wnd in Attica itself.63 Literary sources supplement our knowledge of Athenian landholdings on Euboea. Lysimachus of Alopeke, the son of the famous Aristides, is said by Demosthenes to have received, as a gift from the Athenian demos, 200 plethra of land in Euboea (half under cereals and vines, half with fruit and olive trees (ı ı )), 100 mnai in cash, and 4 dr. a day for life.64 Hierocles the oracle collector that cleruchic land was inalienable (1966, 70, 88) is held only by a minority of scholars, as he himself admits (1973, 163; cf. 173 n. 3), and causes insurmountable diYculties in the case of Euboea. 59 IG I3 418, ll. 6–7 with Raubitschek (1943), 28–33. 60 Raubitschek (1943), 31; see Pritchett (1956), 263 for the deWnitions of ªB łØº and ı ı . 61 Raubitschek (1943), 31; Erxleben (1975), 88, with Pritchett (1953), 272 (Stele VI, ll. 66–8). Panaitios is also mentioned in Pritchett (1953), 252 (Stele II, ll. 170–1). 62 Erxleben (1975), 88; Khironisi (n. 277 below) is a Classical site on this isthmus, while the tower site at Ay. Paraskevi (n. 302 below) is tentatively identiWed as Argura. 63 See Pritchett (1956), 275–6; Osborne (1985), 47–63. 64 See Dem. 20.115; cf. Plut. Arist. 27.2 (who only records the ªB ı ı ). APF, 48–53, has exploded the ancient myth that Aristides ‘‘the Just’’ and his family were impoverished, but it does not follow (as he thinks) that this decree was a fourthcentury forgery. It is obvious that this very large grant of land was intended as an

The Fruits of Empire


(æ  ºª ), whose oracles were punctiliously obeyed by the demos after the Euboean revolt of 446,65 also seems to have received land on the territory of Histiaea (probably at Elymnion), according to Aristophanes in 421.66 SigniWcantly, there is also at least one aristocratic property ‘‘in Oropos’’ and another at ‘‘the sacred harbor at Oropos’’ (K ˇæ  Ð[Ø]) and [ ]jæ K ˇæ  ÐØ K ƒæ[ ÐØ ºØ Ø]).67 The latter was the ‘‘sacred harbour’’ serving the Amphiareion, a place called Delphinium on the coast 5 km east of Oropus.68 The attestation of Oropian properties is principally important because of the role of Oropus as the vital link between Athens and its Euboean cleruchies.69 The sort of men who owned these properties are well represented by the aristocrat Charmides (cousin of the infamous oligarch Critias), who in Xenophon’s Symposium (set in 421) recalls the days ‘‘when I was a rich man in this city’’. He used to be worried by robbers and sycophants, he complains, and plagued by having to Wnance state projects (ÆÆ A !e B ºø), ‘‘but now that I’m deprived of my overseas properties, and get nothing out of those that I have here, and the contents of my house are sold, I sleep happily and fully honour (Erxleben (1975), 87: ‘‘eine Auszeichnung in Wu¨rdigung der Verdienste des Vaters’’), and would provide Lysimachus with much more than bare maintenance. And, even if based on a forged decree, the story would be based historically on the amounts of land actually owned on Euboea by Wfth-century Athenian aristocrats, conWrmed by the Attic Stelai. If genuine, the decree belongs soon after 453/2 or 446 and is probably to be attributed to Alcibiades II, the grandfather of the famous general: see Erxleben (1975), 87–8 with APF, 15–16. 65 GHI 52 (¼ IG I3 40), ll. 64–9; on Hierocles and oracle collectors, see Parker (2005), 111–15. 66 Ar. Pax 1046–7, 1125–6. On Elymnion, see n. 310 below. On Hierocles, see GHI, 143. 67 Pritchett (1953), 286 (Stele VIII, ll. 4–6). As Erxleben thinks (1975: 85 n. 11), this property may have belonged to Oeonias, who appears again in ll. 8–9. 68 Strab. 9.2.6. Lolling (1885: 352–4) identiWed this ƺÆØa ¯æ æØÆ with Amarynthos, probably rightly (see Sackett et al. (1966: 65); he also identiWed Delphinion with the closest point on the coast to the Amphiareion, the shallow bay at Kamaraki (Mandraki), with submerged remains (1885: 351–2). Two ancient walls lining the bay have now been surveyed by Cosmopoulos (2001), 59–60, 90–1, Wgs. 39, 54 and (1989), 273–6, Wgs. 1–4, but remain insecurely dated. Thucydides’ statement IØ b ºØ Æ › æøe B H ¯æ æØH ºø ŁÆº   æ ,Œ Æ  Æ ı, which agrees with the distance in Strabo, may suggest that it was this bay that Agesandridas used as his base (in the territory of Oropus) before attacking the Athenians at Eretria. 69 See pp. 116–17 below.



relaxed . . . Then I used to bring tribute to the demos, but now the state imposes a tax and supports me’’.70 This passage may be nothing more than a collage carelessly pieced together with references to various later events (the conWscations of 414, the Decelean War from 413, and the diobelia of Cleophon from 410), but it nevertheless preserves a historical sketch of the type of Athenian who owned overseas real-estate and was obliged by the demos to reciprocate through liturgies.71 Xenophon’s Wctional Charmides mirrors the real person whose estate is the subject of Lysias 32: this Diodotus belonged to the liturgic class thanks in part to an annual rent income in grain, originating from an investment of 2,000 dr. in the Thracian Chersonesus.72 The plight of Charmides under the sycophants in turn recalls the comic image of Cleon’s eisphorai as the bane of similarly rich Athenians ‘‘from Chersonesus’’.73 SigniWcantly, the eisphora is the very tax imposed by Athens on its cleruchs at Histiaea: it was evidently expected that Athenians settling there would already be, or soon be counted, among the city’s plousioi.74 This evidence pointing to the existence of rich cleruchs and their liability to Athenian liturgies and taxation is impressive. The recently discovered GrainTax Law of 374/3 now considerably expands our knowledge of this 70 Xen. Symp. 4.30–2. 71 See APF, 331. 72 Lys. 32.6 (Øغ Æ b Oغ  Æ K -ææ fiø), 15 ( Ø A b ŒÆd E ÆP E KŒ -ææ  ı ŒÆŁ ŒÆ K ØÆı  ), 24 (liturgies). Diodotus had made a fortune in K æ Æ (32.4: KæªÆÆ ı b ˜Ø ı ŒÆ K æ Æ  ººa  Æ Æ . . . ; see 32.25: his brother investing on a voyage to the Adriatic). See Cohen (1989), 210 n. 16: ‘‘Return paid not in money, but in crops, would be especially appropriate only to a loan relating to land. The recurring yearly payment, of course, suggests a calculation of yield related strictly to the passage of time, i.e. interest.’’ 73 Ar. Eq. 261–5. Also see the scholion: hKŒ -ææ  ı: i -ææ   B ¨æŒ  øæ ŒÆd ºØ, ! ºc H `Ł Æ ø , h æ  N ıæ F ªøæª Æ : ‹Ł ŒÆd KØ Æªª ı ƒ `Ł ÆE Ø, Œ º. See also: Ar. Eq. 773–6; 923–6. 74 IG I3 41.38 with Cary (1925), 244, 250; Graham (1964), 171–2; Hansen (1999), 112–16 (for the fourth-century evidence on N æ); on this clause see Schmitz (1988), 89–90, and for evidence of other ‘‘prominenten’’ (e.g. Aristophanes, Ariston) in Wfth-century Athenian cleruchies, see pp. 84–9: ‘‘. . . in der Regel jeder Bu¨rger unabha¨ngig von seiner Zensusklasse sich an einer Kleruchensiedlung beteiligen konnte’’. Among these, the case in Pl. Euthphr. 4c is particularly interesting: a wealthy Athenian family residing on a farm in Naxos with their slaves ( NŒ ÆØ) and hired labour (º ). For the fourth century cleruchies see Cargill (1981), 196: ‘‘numerous fourth century Athenian settlers are from families that can only be described as wealthy’’; he collects the prosopographical evidence in his appendix B.

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phenomenon: as I interpret this law, it was the highest Athenian property class resident on the island who were to provide the demos with large quantities of public grain (E  K fiH Œ Ø fiH).75 The distribution by lot of kleroi ensured, of course, that all Athenian citizen classes could beneWt from cleruchies. Xenophon provides the example of Eutherus, who after returning to Athens after the Peloponnesian War says to Socrates: ‘‘Since we were deprived of our foreign property, and my father left me no property in Attica, I have been forced to take up my residence here and to earn a bare livelihood by manual labour’’.76 This case reveals the democratic nature of the system, but cannot establish that Eutherus was the typical Athenian cleruch. A passage from Aristophanes’ Wasps will in fact suggest the opposite: that the typical Euboean cleruch was more likely to be someone like Oeonias.77 The aim of Wfth-century Athenian cleruchies, despite Plutarch’s oft-quoted statement, was certainly not that of relieving Athens of a lazy and impoverished urban mob, and dispatching it overseas as some kind of imperial garnisaire.78

A. The Cleruchy at Chalcis and Cleruchic Mobility The Athenian cleruchy established at Chalcis in 506 seems not to have outlasted the Persian Wars, and we last hear of it in the prelude to the Persian sack of Eretria.79 No explanation has ever been oVered for its apparent dissolution or for why Pericles had to re-expel the Hippobotai in 446.80 This is surprising, for Herodotus is fairly clear on the reason. At the request of Eretria, he says, the Athenians ‘‘gave

75 See pp. 104–6 below. 76 Xen. Mem. 2.8.1 (Penguin trans.). 77 See n. 95 below. 78 Plut. Per. 11 with Brunt (1966), 71. Plutarch here probably had in mind Roman social and military conditions. We must not forget that the lines from the Brea decree which appear to exclude the two higher property classes from the cleruchy (see n. 138 below), are an amendment to the original decree, which originally (as Meiggs and Lewis rightly saw, GHI, 132) ‘‘did not restrict membership at all’’. 79 Hdt. 6.100–101; cf. Graham (1964), 169 n. 1. 80 See n. 7 above. See e.g. Geyer (1903), 48, and most recently, Ostwald (2002), 135 n. 13: ‘‘what happened to it [the cleruchy] can only be speculated’’.



in assistance the 4,000 men who were cleruchs on the land of the Chalcidian Hippobotai’’.81 When these cleruchs arrived at Eretria, Aeschines son of Nothon, one of the most prominent Eretrians, revealed to them that the situation there was hopeless and urged them to ‘‘go back to their homes’’. Herodotus shows us what this meant: ‘‘The Athenians followed the advice of Aeschines, and by crossing to Oropus they saved themselves’’.82 The implication is that most or all of the Athenian cleruchs resided in Athens, and not in the cleruchy at Chalcis.83 The recently published roster of 250 Council members in the Athenian cleruchy at Samos (Wrst established in 365/4) serves to conWrm this interpretation of Herodotus. The publishers of this relatively well-preserved and unique inscription were able to identify a considerable fraction of the cleruchs (with varying degrees of certainty, from the absolute to the likely) with men present in Athens from the 360s to the 320s.84 Samos therefore presents an almost paradoxical case of durability and mobility, for on the one hand Athens outWtted its cleruchy with a full set of permanent civic institutions (a half-Council of 250, and a half-board of Wve generals, alongside the normal ten tribes, and nine archons), but on the other hand the cleruchs seem to have moved freely and frequently between Samos and Attica, and indeed to have lived their lives in both places.85 If this was true for Samos, it would be truer still for the cleruchs at Chalcis, who could easily travel the short distance between Euboea and Athens. They would, in other words, have been absentee owners, many or most of them no doubt rentiers like the Athenian cleruchs at Lesbos in 427 described by Thucydides: Afterwards tribute was not imposed upon the Lesbians; but all their land, except that of the Methymnians, was divided into three thousand allotments, three hundred of which were reserved as sacred for the gods, 81 Hdt. 6.100 with Brunt (1966), 87–9. 82 Hdt. 6.100–1. 83 Pace e.g. A. H. M. Jones (1957), 175. 84 Hallof and Habicht (1995), 293–9. 85 Ibid. 299: ‘‘Die neue Urkunde lehrt manches u¨ber die Mobilita¨t der Kleruchen . . . Es zeigt na¨mlich, daß die Entscheidung des Einzelnen, sich in einer Kleruchie anzusiedeln, nicht unwiderruXich war, der BetreVende vielmehr fru¨her oder spa¨ter nach Attika zuru¨ckkehren konnte’’; and p. 303: ‘‘Die etwa 250 Namen umfassende Liste athenischer Ratsherren auf Samos zeugt mit besonderer Eindru¨cklichkeit fu¨r die Enschlossenheit Athens, annektierten fremden Besitz fu¨r die Dauer zu behaupten’’.

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and the rest assigned by lot to Athenian cleruchs, who were sent out to the island. With these the Lesbians agreed to pay a rent of two minae a year for each allotment, and cultivated the land themselves.86

The new Samian document now lends overwhelming weight to the well-known arguments of Brunt and A. H. M. Jones, to the eVect that many or most of the cleruchs at Lesbos returned to live in Athens. Brunt explained: ‘‘Athens was an imperial city, governed by the citizens themselves, even the poorest, and there they enjoyed the pleasure of power, and its material perquisites, which they could vote to themselves’’.87 This is correct as long as we are careful not to associate cleruchs with ‘‘the poorest’’: obtaining a rent of two minae a year from Lesbos meant ipso facto that each of these 2,700 men was now of hoplite status (at least).88 Some of the bouleutai at Samos (like Euetion of Sphettos, appearing also in Athens as a mining-lessee and trierarch) were in fact quite wealthy men.89 These cases of mobile and wealthy cleruchs underline that it is absurd to think of cleruchies as either military colonies or democratic charity-aVairs. While it is obvious that Athenian interests private and public were served by any cleruchs who chose to remain abroad, the idea that cleruchs were oYcially forced to remain overseas and garrison their cleruchies has absolutely no foundation.90 Athenian 86 Thuc. 3.50 (Crawley trans.) with Brunt (1966), 81–4. 87 Brunt (1966), 72 n. 8; see A. H. M. Jones (1957), 174–6. 88 See [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 7.4: "ıª Ø b ºE f ØÆŒØÆ a ı ø  Ø F Æ, with [Dem.] 43.54: › b "ıª  ,ŒÆ e  Œ Æ (sc. æÆ); see also n. 135 below. Probably by the early Wfth century, the terms of the Solonic requirement changed to being expressed in drachmas instead of in medimnoi, on a 1:1 basis: see Busolt (1926), 822 n. 1, 837, 1272, 1276; Rhodes (1993), 142–5; cf. the assessment in [Arist.] Oec. 1347a18–24, where the sum of 200 dr. per person again appears, though in a context diYcult to interpret. 89 See Hallof and Habicht (1995), 294. 90 A. H. M. Jones (1957), 174–5, rightly dismisses the two main sources for this view: Plut. Per. 11 (see n. 78 above) and Isoc. 4.107 (see n. 1 above); in contrast, he emphasizes that no military participation is recorded of Athenian cleruchs in key cases during the Peloponnesian War (Lesbos in 424 and 411, and Euboea in 411) when we should expect it had they been present in the cleruchies. The exception proves the rule: in 411 the whole of Euboea revolted, except Oreoi/Histiaea which was held by the Athenians (Thuc. 8.95: ŒÆd o æ P  ººfiH ¯h Ø  –ÆÆ I  Æ  ºc æ F ( Æ b ÆP d `Ł ÆE Ø r ) . . . ). Cf. Salomon (1997), 120–50 (rightly criticized by Osborne (1999), 207), who takes the extreme and very doubtful position that Athenian cleruchies were rotating garrisons temporarily settled on public lots; see



absentee rentierism suYciently explains, in short, why a new generation of Hippobotai apparently faced no Athenian opposition in returning to, and establishing themselves at, Chalcis by 446.

B. The Periclean Settlement The settlement of the Euboean revolt in 446/5 drastically redesigned Athens’ relations to the island. Pericles not only successfully established Athenian domination of Euboea on a secure and permanent footing, but also performed what was regarded as a democratic masterstroke. Although Tolmides (as is now practically certain) had imposed a cleruchy on Carystus in 453/2 or 452/1,91 the conquest of Euboea was still remembered decades later as the joint success of Pericles and the Athenian demos. Geometry appears in Clouds as the ‘‘democratic and useful scheme’’ (ØÆ   ØŒe ŒÆd æØ ) with which the cleruchic land was measured out92—seeing the island on a map then prompts Strepsiades to say that the Athenians under Pericles had defeated and performed this intellectual exercise on the Euboeans.93 Athenian popular control over Euboea seems to have become a kind of comic topos in the Wfth century, with another poet saying that thanks to Pericles ‘‘the demos became like a wild horse ‘and no longer dared to obey, but bit Euboea and leapt on the

also the further doubts cast by Faraguna (1999), 69–73. Geyer (1903), 50, 71, long ago held the same mistaken view (e.g.: ‘‘so war die Kleruchie in Chalkis keine Ackerbaukolonie, sondern eine Garnison . . .’’, and: ‘‘es [the Eretrian apoikia] war eine Sta¨ndige Garnison, die im Verein mit der chalkidischen, histiaiischen und karystischen die Insel bewachen und zugleich in Botma¨ssigkeit erhalten sollte’’). But the phenomenon of Milita¨rkolonien, very diVerent from cleruchies, is distinguished and discussed, e.g. in Busolt (1926), 1279. 91 Paus. 1.27.5 mentioning (and Diod 11.88 dating to 453/2) Tolmides’ cleruchy ‘‘to Euboea and Naxos’’, with IG I3 259, col. II, l. 16 showing Carystus’ tribute as 12 talents in 454/3 (this is lowered to 7.5 talents in 450/49). The number of cleruchs is reported by Diod. 11.88 as a total of 1,000 for Euboea and Naxos. See Erxleben’s discussion (1975: 85–7) against the version of events reconstructed, before the fragment was known, in ATL III, 294–9. 92 Ar. Nub. 202–5. 93 Ibid. 211–13. I take the verb ÆæÆ  ø here to operate in a triple pun: to lie geographically, to lay low (i.e. defeat), or to lay out (for measurement into kleroi).

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islands’’’.94 But comedy simultaneously reXects considerable ambivalence and even popular resentment towards a settlement which (as we have seen in the cases of Oeonias and others) undoubtedly enriched and beneWtted Athens’ already wealthy political class. In 422 Bdelycleon attacks these men as follows: But whenever they’re scared, they promise you Euboea and get set to supply you with Wfty-medimnoi rations of grain. But they never give it to you, not counting yesterday when you got Wve medimnoi, but only after narrowly escaping a challenge to your citizenship, and then it was barley in one-quart installments. Which is why I kept you locked up: I wanted to feed you and didn’t want these blowhards to make a chump of you.95

The passage clearly refers to habitual fears and promises, but particularly (as the scholiast thought, referring to Philochorus) to events of the year 424/3, when Athens seems to have reinforced its military control on Euboea.96 Especially if compared with the enthusiasm of Strepsiades, Bdelycleon’s hostility gives the idea that Pericles’ democratic project on the island had been betrayed: the land of Euboea and its grain, instead of a public good, were in the hands of a greedy few capable of clinging to it only by calling the Athenian demos to arms. Of course, these are only statements of perception, useful on a general level but as historically imprecise as statements of the kind that Wfth-century Athens ‘‘held more than two-thirds of Euboea’’, or indeed the whole of it.97 Let us therefore turn to Pericles’ settlement in more detail. The principal consequence of the Athenian revolt in 446, as Thucydides notes, was the depopulation of Histiaea and its resettlement with Athenian cleruchs.98 The number of cleruchs is variously recorded as 1,000 or 2,000.99 In order to make this 94 Plut. Per. 7.6. 95 Ar. Vesp. 715–21 (Loeb trans.). 96 See n. 114 below. 97 These statements are made by Andocides and Aeschines respectively: see n. 42 above. See also the Ravenna schol. on Ar. Nub. 213: KŒº æ  Æ b ÆP c `Ł ÆE Ø ŒæÆ Æ  ÆP B. 98 Thuc. 1.114 (+ ¯ ØÆØA b K ØŒ Æ  ÆP d (sc: ƒ `Ł ÆE Ø) c ªB  ); also Philoch. FGrHist 328 F118: —æØŒº ı b  æÆ ª F  ŒÆ Æ æłÆŁÆØ ÆP f A  Ø $غ æ , ŒÆd c b ¼ºº Kd › º ª fi Æ ŒÆ Æ ÆŁB ÆØ, + ¯ ØÆØø b I ØŒØŁ ø ÆP f c æÆ Ø . 99 Diod. 12.22 (1,000); Theopomp. FGrHist 115 F387 (2,000); 2,000 is taken as the more likely Wgure for the cleruchs in IACP, 656 (citing Figueira (1991), 258–60); see Cary (1925), 248.



settlement permanent (i.e. to avoid the sort of dissolution just seen at Chalcis through cleruchic homecoming), Histiaea was provided with the institutional permanence of an Athens in miniature. Attested on the fragmentary inscription of her regulations is possibly her own council and court, and certainly a number of ‘‘travelling judges’’.100 It is in reference to the fact that the Athenians at Histiaea ‘‘lived away’’ but nevertheless retained these ‘‘same institutions’’, that Thucydides calls Histiaea (along with Lemnos, Imbros, and Aegina) a colony (I ØŒ Æ) of Athens: The Athenians themselves, who were Ionians, went of their own free will against the Syracusans, who were Dorians; they were followed by the Lemnians and Imbrians, and the then inhabitants of Aegina, and by the Histiaeans dwelling at Histiaea in Euboea: all these were their own colonists (¼ ØŒ Ø), speaking the same language with them, and retaining the same institutions.101

Thucydides here does not say that Histiaea, Lemnos, Imbros, or Aegina were apoikiai and not cleruchies, and his statement does not exclude other Athenian cleruchs serving in the Syracusan campaign.102 Thucydides is interested in the cleruchs that he lists simply because they were exceptional: they lived (or mostly lived) ‘‘on-site’’, and yet were still linked to Athens in speech and institutions (i.e. they had neither ‘‘gone native’’ nor become independent colonies). The Athenian cleruchic phenomenon was indeed remarkable and worth Thucydides’ attention.103 The corollary of Thucydides’ comment is 100 IG I3 41, ll. 58, 89–110 with Cary (1925), 249, who follows von Ga¨rtringen’s restoration of thirty ØŒÆ Æ , just as in Athens ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. 26, 53). Lewis restores the number as [h] , but thirty now seems a more likely guess if the recently published list of Athenian councilmen in the cleruchy at Samos from 365 to 321 is any guide. Here are nine archons, as in Athens, while the Council (250) and Generals (5) are precisely half: see Hallof and Habicht (1995), 288–91. On ‘‘travelling judges’’ (ØŒÆ Æd ŒÆ a  ı) see Andrewes (1982b), 407. 101 Thuc. 7.57 (Jowett trans.). 102 Modern eVorts to deny that Histiaea was a cleruchy, based largely on this sentence (e.g. Figueira (1991), 12–13, 69–70, 223), are unconvincing (‘‘the nature of the distinction is not to be determined philologically’’: Brunt (1966), 73, 77); see also Graham (1964), 170–2. 103 See HaloV and Habicht (1995), 301: ‘‘Die Aussendung von Kleruchien war ein typisch athenisches und fast allein auf Athen beschra¨nktes Pha¨nomen’’. Indeed, the phenomenon of overseas colonization by a thalassocrat is a major theme in Thucydides, sounded Wrst at 1.4 (Minos) and returning thereafter in his work: Kallet (2001), 25–6.

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that Wfth-century Athenian cleruchs normally resided in Attica, and from there drew an income (in produce or rent) from their overseas properties. We can now turn to aspects of Pericles’ subjection of Euboea covered by Thucydides’ term ‘‘by agreement’’ (› º ª fi Æ). Despite considerable resistance,104 the weight of the evidence strongly favours the case for the establishment of new cleruchies at Chalcis and Eretria. First the Tribute Lists: despite having been frustrated in their rebellion, Chalcis and Eretria experienced a lowering of tribute (at Chalcis from Wve(?) to three, and at Eretria from six to three talents), a moderate but necessary measure to compensate for the loss of part of their land to Athens.105 The stele recording the oaths of the settlement with Chalcis also mandates an exemption from Chalcidian taxes for  Ø who pay Athenian taxes, and these are probably to be identiWed with Athenians.106 Much more secure (in fact a direct parallel to the later Athenian settlement of Lesbos) is the evidence from the list of leases of Athenian sacred lands on Euboea.107 This document agrees with a garbled passage by Aelian, which should be interpreted as saying that the lands of the Chalcidian Hippobotai were now divided into 2,000 lots for Athenian cleruchs and the goddess Athena, presumably in the same proportion of 10:1 as in Lesbos.108 104 See especially Figueira (1991), 258–60; Meiggs (1972), 565–70. 105 This depends on the restorations proposed in ATL III, 294–5. 106 IG I3 40, ll. 52–7: e jb   e K -ƺŒ Ø, h Ø NŒ Ð j b º ÐØ `Ł Æ", ŒÆd Y Ø  ÆØ hjıe e  Ð `Ł Æ I ºØÆ, e b ¼jºº  ºÐ K -ƺŒ Æ, ŒÆŁæ h Ø ¼ºº jØ -ƺŒØ, with Ostwald (2002), 141 (restating ATL III, 297): ‘‘The objection that ‘an Athenian decree would not call Athenians  Ø [in GHI, 143]’ has only limited validity once we assume that the present Athenian decree echoes the language of the original Chalcidian request for a ruling about the obligations of aliens in their midst. Support for this assumption can conceivably be derived from the prominence of the phrase e b   e K -ƺŒ Ø which introduces this clause (52–3), and whose position parallels the introductory phrase æd b Ð h æ in line 47. There is, accordingly, no reason to deny Athenians a presence in Chalcis by arguing as Gauthier does, that Athenian allies among resident aliens are meant here . . .’’. See also n. 114 below. 107 IG I3 418. 108 Ael. VH 6.1 with ATL III, 295–6 (whose interpretation of the passage I accept), and Raubitschek (1943), 30. One of the stones marking Athena’s land was found at Pe´¨ı, some 5 km northeast of Chalcis (IG XII.9.934: [ ] j [ `]Ł Æ ); cf. IG I3 418.2–3: [ . . .c:5 ::]  j [K -ƺŒ ]Ø Ææa e B `Ł Æ Æ æ [ ÐØ ?—] (restoring [ `Ł A] on l. 2 seems possible despite the alternative form on the following line )).



The surviving leases show that this process of land distribution took place not only on the territory of Histiaea (which had been depopulated),109 but also on that of Chalcis,110 and Eretria.111 The unusually high numbers of Attic white ground lekythoi and choes from Eretria (the only one of these three sites which has undergone excavation), also suggest an Athenian cleruchy, especially since ‘‘there is a noticeable increase about the middle of the Wfth century and these objects seem to be present in quantity right down to 411’’.112 And probably at this time (since it is a direct corollary to Pericles’ citizenship law of 451) the right of intermarriage (KتÆ Æ) with Athenians was also given to all Euboeans.113 This law, which eVectively freed the hereditary transfer of all Euboean private land into Athenian ownership, only makes sense as part of a full legal panoply giving Athenians the means of appropriating Euboean territory. The future safety of Athenian interests on Euboea constituted a diVerent facet of the settlement of 446. The Athenians entrusted this to their generals under a broad mandate: ‘‘As to the protection (ıºÆŒ) of Euboea, the generals shall have the responsibility, to their best ability, that it be as excellent as possible for the Athenians’’.114 The principal physical manifestation of this command to 109 K + ¯ ØÆ ÆØ—: One lot: l. 6: ˇæ  ÆØ. 110 K -ƺŒ Ø—: three separate lots: ll. 3: Ææa e B `Ł Æ Æ æ [ ÐØ ?—], 11, and 22. 111 K ¯æ æ ÆØ—: two separate lots: ll. 9: `NªÆºÐŁ , and 14. 112 Green and Sinclair (1970), 522–7. 113 Lys. 34.3. 114 IG I3 40 (¼ GHI 52), ll. 76–9 (446–5 bc) (æd b ıjºÆŒÐ ¯P Æ e  æÆ ªe KغjŁÆØ h  i  ÆØ ¼æØ Æ, h  i jØ h  º Ø Æ `Ł Æ Ø) (Fornara trans.). The down-dating of this decree to the Euboean expedition of 424/3 (recorded by the scholiast to Ar. Vesp. 718 with Philoch. FGrHist 328 F130: a æd c ¯h ØÆ  Æ ÆØ ŒÆd ÆP a ı ØØ ÆE Øƌƺ ÆØ: æıØ ªaæ Kd ¼æ  æ ı K æ ıÆ K ÆP  , ‰ $غ æ ), as proposed in H. B. Mattingly (1961), 124–32, is unconvincing. One would need to assign impossible perversity to Thucydides in failing to record a large expedition to Euboea, especially given his own clear belief in the island’s importance to Athens (esp. in 8.95–6, but elsewhere in his work from 1.114 on). The expedition is missing from Thucydides simply because it was relatively minor: it was probably recorded by Philochorus as no more than a reinforcement of the forts securing the island, intended to stem the tide of allied rebellion after Delium and Amphipolis (see Lewis (1992), 427 n. 144; Erxleben (1975), 87: ‘‘Viel eher handelt es sich bei diesem Feldzug um Sicherungs- und Schutzmaßnahmen’’). That these took place habitually in any case is implied by Aristophanes’ own phraseology on the lines (Vesp. 715–18) that prompted the scholiast’s reference to

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‘‘guard’’ or ‘‘watch’’ was the massive fortiWcation of Rhamnous,115 a position that, as Ober noticed, ‘‘commands a Wne view over the Euripus straits to Euboea, but has limited outlook inland in any direction’’.116 As a fort protecting the Athenian cleruchies on Euboea, Rhamnous (and its view) had at least one predecessor. The much humbler fort on the edge of the Lelantine plain at Vrachos has now been excavated and dated by pottery to between the end of the sixth century and c.480. It is therefore contemporary, and in all likelihood associated, with the Athenian cleruchy established at Chalcis in 506. Its excavators describe the view from this fort: To the west there is a clear view across the river and the fertile Lelantine Plain to the hill of Vathrovouni which conceals Chalcis, and the southward view over the coastal plain and the straits of Euboea is also excellent. But to the east the ground is broken, and an enemy could with care approach unseen.117

SigniWcantly, the pottery at Vrachos does not seem compatible with an Athenian (or even Eretrian) occupation of the fort.118 This fact considerably puzzled the excavators, who hold to the fort’s role in Philochorus: Iºº › Æ b  ø ÆP , c ¯h ØÆ ØÆØ j !E , ŒÆd E !  Æ ÆØ ŒÆ a  Œ Æ   ıj  æØE . To deny the historicity of Philochorus’ report, on the other hand, would be dangerous given the absence of other events from Thucydides’ narrative, e.g. the absence of an engagement at Spartolus c.424/3, made evident only in the treaty quoted in Thuc. 5.18.5, which now appears recorded in a cavalry casualty list from that year (Parlama and Stampolidis (2000), 396–9: showing the battle sequence Megara, Tanagra (i.e. Delium), Spartolus) discovered north of Kerameikos in the Athens Metro excavations. This is one more event demonstrating ‘‘the likelihood that the narrative [of Thuc.] is not as allembracing as it may appear’’ (Lewis 1992: 380). I am grateful to Prof. E. Badian for personally communicating this insight on the date of the casualty list. 115 See pp. 119–20 below. 116 Ober (1985), 137. 117 Sapouna-Sakellaraki et al. (2002), 1. 118 Ibid. 62: ‘‘Gesamthaft gesehen ist die auf dem Vrachos von Phylla gefundene Keramik nicht besonders qualita¨tsvoll, du¨rfte in einem Milita¨rkamp allerdings auch nicht zu erwarten sein . . . Das ebenfalls in die spa¨tarchaische Zeit zu datierende Material von der eretrischen Agora, das vielleicht in den dortigen La¨den zum Verkauf aufgeboten wurde, ist dagegen reich an schwarzWguriger Keramik und zeichnet sich auch durch ihre qualita¨tsvollere Fabrikation aus.’’ Cf. p. 114: ‘‘there is in fact little Attic pottery for an Athenian force, and the low standard of the single letters incised on some cup bases contrasts with the degree of literacy suggested by painted and incised Attic inscriptions of this period . . .’’.



protecting the Athenian cleruchy, but seem surprised to conclude that it was manned by a large troop (of up to 200) non-Athenian mercenary archers.119 The puzzle is solved if (as we discussed above) Athenian cleruchs chose to stay on their plots or go back to Athens as rentiers, but in any case were never intended or oYcially used as garnisaires. We will return to Vrachos and Rhamnous below, but at this point we must note that they were probably not the only Athenian forts guarding the island. Archaeological survey strongly suggests that the Athenian guard of Euboea, especially after 446, entailed the construction of numerous other forts. As we shall see, this was in eVect a permanent siege, by land and sea, of the entire island of Euboea and its major cities: ‘‘the Athenians in conjunction with Pericles besieged it, especially the Chalcidians and Eretrians’’.120

C. Cleruchic Taxation From the creation of the Wrst documented Athenian overseas settlement at Salamis and throughout the Classical Period,121 the principle was the same: ‘‘cleruchs remained Athenians and were liable to Athenian taxes and to service in the Athenian forces’’.122 Again, the latter condition does not mean that they were the garnisaires of their cleruchies, but simply that having a kleros qualiWed them ipso facto as hoplites,123 and that they could therefore be marshalled into the 119 Sapouna-Sakellaraki et al. (2002), 87 (bronze arrowhead), 114–15. The excavators tentatively suggest Athens’ corps of Scythian bowmen. 120 Schol. vet. Ar. Nub. 213a (K ºØæŒ Æ ÆP c `Ł ÆE Ø  a —æØŒº ı ŒÆd ºØ Æ -ƺŒØÆ ŒÆd ¯æ æØÆ): see n. 93 above. 121 IG I3 1 ¼ GHI 14 (NB the analogous language in [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 55.3: Faraguna (1999), 86); most scholars would restore Œºæ  in the Wrst line: see Cargill (1995), 2 n. 5. The duties of these Athenian settlers are set out as paying taxes and giving military service to Athens (ll. 2–3: [ `Ł ]jØ ºÐ ŒÆd  æÆ [Ł]ÆØ). Renting of land is restricted, with a tax to be paid to the Athenian treasury (ll. 3–7). The tenant must be capable of providing arms worth 30 dr. for military service (ll. 8– 10). An archon of Salamis is charged with overseeing these conditions (ll. 7–8, 11). The resettlement of Lemnos with Athenian cleruchs in 386 seems to look back explicitly to these regulations (IG II2 30 fr. b, l. 34: ŒÆŁ]æ E K ƺÆ[E Æ; see Stroud (1971), 172–3 who rightly stresses that details of the rules need not be the same, and GHI, 27); see also Faraguna (1999), 84–5, who discusses a new fragment published by Matthaiou that supports the above interpretation. 122 Meiggs (1972), 121. 123 See n. 88 above.

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Athenian army or cavalry in groups designated as, for example, ‘‘Histiaeans’’, ‘‘Lemnians’’, ‘‘Imbrians’’, etc.124 Obviously, just as the ownership of the kleros provided the basis for Athenian military service, it also provided the basis for Athenian taxation, hence the evident signs of state concern regarding the kleros’ transfer and rent.125 The problem of cleruchies and taxation, previously informed only by stray references to taxation at Salamis, Chalcis, and Histiaea, can now be better understood thanks to the well-preserved Grain-Tax Law of 374/3.126 Since the publication of Stroud’s editio princeps and commentary, it is generally agreed that this law converts two previously existing taxes in cash (a dodekate, or one-twelfth, and a pentekoste, or one-Wftieth), originating in Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros, into the same taxes in grain.127 Second, it is agreed that the payers of the taxes are the Athenian cleruchs themselves, since (as Miltiades and Cimon ensured, even more ruthlessly than Pericles at Euboea) all three islands lacked native populations by 476/5.128 Third, it is agreed that a fourth-century nomos such as this was automatically endowed with a superior legal status and had perpetual eVect.129 Fourth, it is agreed that the supply of grain envisaged by the law would be large and its management complex.130 In short, it is clear that, at least from 124 See e.g. n. 101 above, also Thuc. 4.28 on the Lemnian and Imbrian forces taken by Cleon to Pylos. It is in this sense that the ‘‘cleruchs at Chalcis’’ are sent (from Athens, as I think) to help the Eretrians: see pp. 93–4 above. See also the example of the Lemnian cavalry, below, p. 109. 125 See GHI, 27; these still very obscure rules on the alienability of cleruchic land cannot be interpreted automatically as rules prohibiting the alienability of land, as does Salomon (1997), 170. 126 A synopsis of the following arguments is published in Moreno (2003), 97–106. 127 Stroud (1998), 80, 109; cf. Harris (1999), 272, who thinks that the dodekate is a transit-tax (collected in cash) on grain trade passing through the three islands (this is correctly dismissed by Rhodes and Osborne (GHI II, 123), Bresson (2000), 207, Fantasia (2004), 515, and Engels (2000), 114: Harris’ transit-tax would have shifted overseas grain away from Athens rather than towards it). 128 I follow Badian (1993), 99, in dating the capture of Scyros. On the expulsions, see IACP, 742, 756, 774; Stroud (1998), 31–2 with Cargill (1995), 5–6. 129 See Stroud (1998), 15–16, with Hansen (1999), 161–77. 130 The Athenian Aiakeion would have to be converted into a warehouse (ll. 14–16, with Stroud (1998), 97–8), and ten men would have to be elected by vote (and not by lot, as normal magistracies) to supervise an evidently complicated process of weighing, storing, and selling the grain (ll. 36–55 with Stroud (1998), 70–1).



374/3, the Athenian cleruchs of Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros were directly responsible for supplying a considerable quantity of public grain to Athens. This conclusion is obviously interesting in itself, but there still remain many serious problems in our understanding of the inscription. It seems likely that the pentekoste is, as Stroud thinks, a tax ‘‘levied on the cargoes of grain that left the harbours of the three islands’’.131 But the rest of the inscription remains, on the whole, enigmatic. What role is played by the additional (and larger) dodekate? What is the function of the merides of 500 medimnoi, and 3,000 medimnoi (ll. 8, 32)?132 What, if any, is the signiWcance of a rate of one-twelfth? Were all or only some of the cleruchs on the islands liable to pay? On what basis was the tax sold in Athens (was the successful bidder he who gave the highest estimate of one-twelfth of the following year’s harvest)? Did Athens sell the tax to one or more tax collectors? How did he (or they) collect the tax? What is the role of a symmory of six men? Are these six taxcollectors, or taxpayers? None of these questions has been satisfactorily answered, and Stroud himself concludes his commentary saying: ‘‘I publish this inscription knowing that I have left unresolved many of the important issues it raises’’.133 The document is, however, fairly clear once we understand the nature of the tax itself, a dodekate. Stroud notes that this is ‘‘our Wrst and only evidence for an Athenian tax at the rate of 813%,  øŒ ’’.134 This is only partly true, and crucially overlooks the fact (long ago demonstrated by Bo¨ckh) that the yearly income 131 Stroud (1998), 37–8. This is to be distinguished from the  Œ  c F  ı collected in cash at Piraeus, as mentioned in Dem. 59.27 (see Stroud (1998), 37 nn. 75–8 for references to scholarship on this tax). Another  Œ   was decreed between 336 and 330 bc to be collected on imports and exports probably at Oropus (called ‘‘Nea’’), as appears from IG II2 334 and SEG xviii 13 as interpreted by Robert (1960), 189–203. Still another was the  Œ   levied as an ad valorem tax on all merchandise entering or leaving Piraeus, and collected by Agyrrhius and Andocides shortly after the Peloponnesian War: since Andocides claims to have collected more than 36 talents in 401/0, this would indicate that the Piraeus handled more than 1,800 talents worth of merchandise even in the depressed conditions following the war. For the Athenian empire as a revenue-generating mechanism, see Kallet (2001), 195–205. 132 The meaning of æ  as a portion of land, as proposed by Faraguna (1999), 92–3, seems to me very unlikely. 133 Stroud (1998), 120. 134 Stroud (1998), 27, 109; cf. Faraguna (1999), 65 n. 2 for reference to the epigraphic attestation of a twelfth at Iasos, and Engels (2000), 106 n. 38.

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deWning the taxable capital of the Wrst Solonic class, the pentakosiomedimnoi, was itself a dodekate.135 The tax of 500 medimnoi (100 of wheat and 400 of barley) imposed by Agyrrhius is thus simply the whole of the notional income that deWned a Solonic pentakosiomedimnos. As Bo¨ckh also showed, the proportion between an income of 500 and a taxable capital of 6,000 (both again being obviously notional Wgures, oYcially assumed without regard for actual variations) must have been set by Solon on the basis of a net rent (i.e. income) from land of one-twelfth, which he probably obtained by dividing the earlier prevailing one-sixth (the old Athenian hektemorage) by half.136 As well as a tax, the dodekate can therefore also be 135 The Solonic value of 500 medimnoi was one-twelfth of one talent (6,000 dr.) (see Plut. Sol. 23.3 ¼ Ruschenbusch F77), and one talent (according to the section of Pollux’s Onomasticon dealing with the Athenian constitution) was how much a member of the Wrst Solonic class ‘‘expended upon the state’’ (I ºØŒ N e  Ø ): )ØÆ Æ  q 

ÆæÆ:  ÆŒ Ø   ø , ƒø , "ıªØ H , Ł H . ƒ b KŒ F  ÆŒØÆ  æÆ  æa ŒÆd !ªæa  ØE Œº Ł : I ºØŒ  N e  Ø ºÆ : ƒ b c ƒÆ º F  KŒ b  ÆŁÆØ æØ ¥  ı ŒŒºBŁÆØ  Œ FØ , K ı b  æÆ æØÆŒØÆ, I ºØŒ b Ø ºÆ : ƒ b e "ıªØ º F  I ØÆŒ  ø  æø ŒÆ ºª , I ºØŒ b  A ŒÆ: ƒ b e Ł ØŒe P Æ Iæc qæ , Pb I ºØŒ P (Poll. Onom. 8.129.6–131.1). Bo¨ckh brilliantly interpreted this in 1817 to mean that 6,000 medimnoi/drachmas was the taxable capital and the dodekate (¼ 500 medimnoi) the tax (1828 Eng. trans., vol. 2, 270–1). It has long been held (and tacitly accepted) that this interpretation was ‘‘exploded’’ by Beloch (see Rhodes (1993), 140, citing Hignett), but any reader of Beloch’s attack (1885), 245, can safely dismiss the basis of this explosion as a harmless (and, since 1890, obsolete) argumentum ex silentio: ‘‘Und u¨berhaupt ist er sehr misslich, eine Einrichtung so verwickelter Natur und so zweifelhaften Nutzens, wie eine Progressivteuer, in die Zeit der Kindheit der Finanzwissenschaft verlegen zu wollen, um so mehr als das ganze spa¨tere Alterthum von einer solchen Steuerform nichts weiss, oder doch wenigstens nicht u¨ber die rohesten Ansa¨tze dazu herausgekommen ist’’. It should be noted that Ste Croix (2004), in the most thorough modern study of this evidence, actually follows Bo¨ckh, despite arguing against him(!), 57–8: ‘‘I would now accept the passage in Pollux as probable evidence that the census classes were intended to be used as the basis for assessment for direct taxation, in such a way that the three top classes paid at the same rate (whatever it was on each occasion) but on a notional assessment which was diVerent for each class, so that if the levy was 1%, for example, each Pentakosiomedimnos would pay 60 drachmae, each Hippeus 30 drachmae and each Zeugites 10 drachmae . . . unlike the complexities which Bo¨ckh’s theory involves, such a system was an admirably simple one’’ (emphasis in original). But Ste Croix’s is precisely the system that Bo¨ckh envisages (see [1817] 1828, 271–2). Ste Croix also sees no major obstacle for the institution of the tax by Solon. 136 Cf. Stroud (1998), 32: ‘‘We do know, however, of rents in kind at this period, and 8% is (suggestively?) a very common rate for rent paid by lessors of public land in Attica’’. He pursues this insight no further.



seen as a notionally payable ‘‘rent’’: every pentakosiomedimnos was liable to pay this rent/tax if he held any Attic land (including land in cleruchies), because all such land must have notionally belonged to the Athenian polis.137 That Agyrrhius’ law refers to a class of Solonic pentakosiomedimnoi on Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros Wnds additional support in (or explains the presence of) the complete term for the members of this class in the genitive plural ( ÆŒ Ø   ø ) thirteen years earlier in the badly mutilated decree concerning the Athenian cleruchy at Lemnos.138 Equally suggestively, the same decree has a reference to the regulations of the cleruchy at Salamis established in Solon’s day.139 Once the essential fact is clear that this is a tax on pentakosiomedimnoi, the full meaning of Agyrrhius’ law emerges. By 374/3, when the drachma:medimnos relation was no longer 1:1, but approximately 9–6:1 for wheat, and 5–3:1 for barley,140 only an exceptionally wealthy Athenian would still be qualiWed to belong to the pentakosiomedimnic class and pay its tax ( ºE  ÆŒ Ø Ø ) in Solon’s sense, i.e. to produce a taxable 500 medimnoi worth approximately 2,900 to 1,800 dr. And yet this is what Agyrrhius’ law, in suitably democratic language, is asking his taxpayers to do (ll. 5–10). 137 Faraguna (1999), 81–9, presents a series of convincing cases supporting this, and suggests that the Athenian equivalent of the cleruchic tax was the KªŒ ØŒ . The taxable capital of the other classes was a tenth, a Wfth, and nothing, respectively: see n. 135 above. The polis’ notional title of ownership need not have aVected the private ownership or alienability of Attic or cleruchic land any more than the ‘‘Radical Title’’ of the Crown aVects land in England today: see the fuller discussion of this Athenian phenomenon on pp. 304–6 below. 138 Agora XIX L.3, l. 12, with Stroud’s commentary (1971), 172: ‘‘It appears that the property-qualiWcations of the new cleruchs were the subject of this part of the decree’’. In his commentary on the grain tax, Stroud (1998), 43 n. 88, again misses the point: ‘‘The latest attestation of  ÆŒ Ø Ø Ø in an Attic inscription known to me is (signiWcantly?) the decree concerning Lemnos, . . . 387/6 BC’’. Since my interpretation of the grain tax proves the presence of  ÆŒ Ø Ø Ø on Lemnos, Luria’s interpretation (ap. Stroud (1971)) of the word as barring them from the cleruchy (restoring [ºc ƒø ŒÆ]d  ÆŒ Ø   ø , on analogy with the Brea decree GHI 49, ll. 39–42: K bj [´]æÆ K Ł Ð ŒÆd "j[ı]ªØ Ð N ÆØ e I j[ ]Œ ), is to be decisively rejected. See n. 78 above. 139 These regulations were inscribed towards the end of the sixth century. See n. 121 above. 140 For the prices and the evidence, see Pritchett (1956), 186, 196–8, and Appendix 1.

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The law was a democratic masterstroke not only because it provided a public supply of grain for the Athenian demos, but also because it turned a tax on the wealthy cleruchs of Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros from a dodekate in cash (a relatively painless yearly payment of 500 dr.) into a much more onerous dodekate in grain, equalling a yearly 500 medimnoi from each cleruch.141 If Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros had ever been oVshore tax havens for the rich, Agyrrhius’ law ensured this would no longer be the case.142 It is not surprising that Demosthenes called him ‘‘a good man, a democrat, a zealous champion of our masses on repeated occasions’’.143 In eVect his Grain-Tax was a new and considerable liturgy that, although costing only about half the price of a trierarchy, had to be performed year after year.144 Let us now examine the sale and collection of the tax. The Athenian state would have a record of how many pentakosiomedimnoi held plots of land (kleroi) in its cleruchy, and could thus predetermine (even before the harvest) exactly how much grain was to be collected: it was simply a matter of multiplying 500 medimnoi by a number of kleroi.145 Now enter the prospective tax-collector. He would be a single man, and (by necessity) would be extremely wealthy and wellconnected himself.146 For not only would the expense of arranging 141 On the switch from 500 medimnoi to 500 dr., see n. 88 above. 142 See Engels (2000), 108 on a recorded revenue of 3.5 talents from Lemnos and Imbros in 305/4. I use the term ‘‘tax haven’’ quite intentionally: cleruchs were otherwise not liable for payment of Athenian taxes or service on symmories (Dem. 14.16). 143 Dem. 24.134. 144 See APF, pp. xxi–xxii on the costs of trierarchies. 145 I assume the operation of a legal system that somehow ensured that the number of kleroi remained the same over time, perhaps similar to that envisaged by Plato in Leg. 740b–c, addressing the problem of partible inheritance. Alternatively, see Foxhall (2003), 85–6, on ways in which elites circumvent the problems of partible inheritance. 146 The singular › æØ  is used Wve times (in ll. 11, 18, 22, 27, 30). Stroud is badly misled into thinking of several collectors by the use of the plural twice (ll. 21, 47), and by his erroneous interpretation of the role of the symmories (ll. 31–6: see n. 148 below). The two appearances of › æØ  in the plural are most likely an imprecision in the law’s drafting, as for example in the sentence: ‘‘Presidents of the United States are elected to serve a 4-year term of oYce’’. Let us remember (Andoc 1.133) that Agyrrhius himself had been the single buyer of the pentekoste (in cash) for thirty talents in 402/1, and that Andocides outbid him the following year (again, individually) by oVering thirty-six talents. In each case, the individual was no doubt



and transporting the entire tax from the three islands to Piraeus, and from there to the asty, rest on his shoulders (ll. 10–15), but in order to buy the tax he would need to present two solvent guarantors for each 500 medimnoi in his bid (ll. 29–31).147 SigniWcantly, the law refers to him as an emporos (l. 26). The sale of the tax is evidently a winnertakes-all contest between these individual shipping tycoons, each striving to outbid the rest in bringing back to Athens the greatest portion of the predetermined tax. The successful buyer would return to Athens with this contracted amount (the net tax), gaining the right to keep the diVerence between it and the full predetermined amount (the gross tax). This diVerence, minus the expenses incurred in collecting the tax, would be the tax-collector’s proWt. But how was the tax collected? Once the tax-collector arrived in Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros, he would Wnd the pentakosiomedimnoi there neatly arranged in symmories to pay the tax, and each symmory would be responsible for handing to him a meris of 3,000 medimnoi (ll. 31–3).148 The Athenian state would hold each of the pentakosiomedimnoi and their symmories severally and individually liable for the transfer of this batch of grain to the tax-collector (ll. 33–6). We can immediately see the logic of this arrangement: the symmories simpliWed the sale of the tax in Athens (since the payload of the average merchant ship was 3,000 medimnoi,149 each prospective buyer eVectively bid by the numbers of ships that he could proWtably aVord to mobilize). By setting the tax burden on six pentakosiomedimnoi

the Iæ  of a large group of speculators who remained in the background. The same kind of anti-competitive bidding practices will of course have been possible with Agyrrhius’ Grain-Tax. 147 Since the law does not prohibit it, we should assume that the same pair of guarantors, depending on their wealth, could stand as surety for more than one batch of 500 medimnoi. 148 Cf. Stroud (1998), 65, goes wrong in assuming that a symmory refers to a group of tax collectors: ‘‘Agyrrhius appears to provide for joint speculation by six priamenoi possibly on a smaller scale than some of the other emporoi, with shared risks and expenses’’. Faraguna (1999), 66 and Engels (2000), 104, 108 follow this mistake. Theirs would be the Wrst and only known instance of an Athenian taxcollector symmory, whereas taxpayer symmories are well attested: see Hansen (1999), 113: ‘‘Symmories were Wrst established in 378/7 in order to systematize the payment of eisphora . . .’’. 149 See Casson (1954), 183–99.

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instead of one, the symmories also lowered the risk of incapacities in paying the grain (e.g. in cases of harvest failure or unforeseen dowry payments). Finally, the symmories simpliWed both the collection of the tax by the tax collector, as well as the enforcement by the Athenian state in cases of non-compliance with the law. From the arrangement of the pentakosiomedimnoi into symmories we can easily deduce the minimum and maximum amounts of grain tax from the islands, and this in turn reveals the entire land-holding structure of Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros.150 For, on the one hand, the law clearly envisages that each island will have at least one of these symmories. And, on the other hand, the law also assumes that every cleruch on the islands will be a pentakosiomedimnos capable of producing at least enough grain to pay the tax (both from a cadastral and a democratic perspective, it would have been impossible for the Athenian state to grant pentakosiomedimnic kleroi only to some of its cleruchs). It might be asked in this connection whether this position conXicts with the fact that Athens kept a cavalry force, commanded by a hipparch in Lemnos during the fourth century. In fact, Hyperides shows us these hippeis as individually liable to pay a tax (termed a misthos), a useful fact to notice in connection with our inscription.151 But as Ste Croix shows, there is no contradiction in belonging to the tax class pentakosiomedimnoi and at the same time serving as a cavalryman.152 Now Scyros, the smallest island, has an area of 202 km2 , of which approximately one-quarter is cultivable; Imbros has 225 km2 , of which approximately one-half is cultivable; Lemnos has 477 km2 , of which approximately three-quarters are cultivable.153 The 150 As Faraguna shows (1999), 77–80, the possibility that there existed a community of (non-Athenian) Lemnians alongside the Athenians on Lemnos can be discarded at the outset. 151 Hyp. Lyc. fr. IVb cols. 13–15; see Faraguna (1999), 81. 152 Ste Croix (2004), 25–6. 153 See Philippson (1950–9), vol. 4, 53, 221, 224; IACP, 742, 756, 774, gives the size of Scyros as 223 km2 , Imbros as 275 km2 , Lemnos as 478 km2 (I intentionally choose the lower Wgures to make my results conservative). Garnsey (1988), 100, is unacceptably pessimistic on the cultivable extent of Lemnos: see Fredrich (1906a), 242: ‘‘So ist Lemnos die Xachste und landschaftlich langweiligste, obwohl die gro¨sste der Inseln im thrakischen Meere [Philippson (1950–9), vol. 4, 227, glosses: ‘. . . auch die fruchtbarste’]’’. Fredrich also gives the following valuable description: ‘‘Fruchtbarer ist der nicht vulkanische Teil, besonders um die Golfe von Mudros und Purnia und die Ostku¨ste. Hier kann man in Mai und Juni wirklich eine Stunde und la¨nger durch



distribution of the cleruchs would obviously have depended on the approximate proportion of cultivable land on each island, expressed roughly in the ratio 1:2:7. In other words, if Scyros had only one symmory, Imbros would have two, and Lemnos would have seven: and this total of ten symmories (i.e. sixty cleruchs) would have paid a yearly tax of 30,000 medimnoi of grain. However, Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros were obviously not occupied by just sixty cleruchs. The islands cannot have been so empty of people. Nor can one imagine each cleruch having a kleros of 870 ha (almost 10,000 plethra), since this would provide income next to which a dodekate of 500 dr. (or even 500 medimnoi) would be impossibly low. Let us then imagine the converse scenario in which each kleros was only large enough to produce Agyrrhius’ tax of 500 medimnoi. Assuming possible yields of 650 kg/ha and the use of biennial fallow, each kleros would need to measure about 50 ha (575 plethra).154 We should reserve one-tenth of the cultivable land for sacred (and thus tax-free) kleroi, following the example of Lesbos in 427.155 Dividing the islands in this fashion would result in 18 symmories for Scyros, 36 for Imbros, and 126 for Lemnos. This total of 180 symmories (i.e. 1,080 cleruchs) would have paid a yearly tax of 540,000 medimnoi of grain. But this again is an impossible scenario, not only because the dodekate cannot have equalled the entire production of the islands, but also because a yearly 540,000 medimnoi never came to Athens from Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros. According to Demosthenes, 400,000 medimnoi came to Athens yearly around the mid-fourth century from the Bosporan kingdom, and another 400,000 from ‘‘all other places’’ put together.156 Getreidefelder reiten. Nur als Weide brauchbar ist der ganze Nordwesten und der Phakos. Bau¨me sind u¨berall auf der Insel selten, und Fruchtbau¨me fehlen fast vo¨llig; auch der Weinbau muss gegen das Altertum sehr zuru¨ckgegangen sein.’’ 154 Foxhall (1997), 130, table 10.2, thinks that the minimum holding for a pentakosiomedimnos would have been ‘‘c. 20þ – 34þ ha’’ for wheat and ‘‘c. 17–28 ha’’ for barley (i.e. 229–389 plethra and 194–320 plethra respectively), but she arrives at this Wgure using the considerably heavier weights for grain believed before 1998; and assumes too high a range of yields (650–1,000 kg/ha). 155 Thuc. 3.50. 156 Dem. 20.31–2. We have every reason to trust Demosthenes’ information: see discussion in Chapter 1, p. 32 n. 185.

The Fruits of Empire Table 3.

Estimates based on the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 Cultivable area Number of Number of six-person kleroi of 1,000 plethra cleruch symmories



60,000 plethra ¼ c.14 of 202 km2 Imbros 120,000 plethra ¼ c.12 of 225 km2 Lemnos 420,000 plethra ¼ c.34 of 477 km2 Total 600,000 plethra

60 (54 for cleruchs, 6 sacred) 120 (108 for cleruchs, 12 sacred) 420 (378 for cleruchs, 42 sacred) 600 (540 for cleruchs, 60 sacred)

Total medimnoi produced (yield ¼ 650 kg/ha, biennial fallow)

Medimnoi taxed as dodekate by Agyrrhius

Medimnoi remaining to Cleruchs after tax

















The actual size of the cleruchies and their grain tax must therefore lie between these two extreme hypotheses, for example as in the scenario in Table 3. This is put forward only as a set of estimates, but we are now at least in the realm of the possible. Kleroi of 1,000 plethra would be very large indeed, but fully compatible with the largest Athenian land-holdings attested.157 The estimated populations are also of acceptable size. On Scyros, a population of 60 families (54 cleruchs and six lessees of sacred lands) may seem especially low, but this does not take into account non-cleruchs (e.g. metics or persons engaged in pasturage in the mountainous southern half of the island).158 Cleruchic slave-ownership may have been unusually large, not only due to the wealth of a pentakosiomedimnos, but also (and 157 Compare Alcibiades’ 300-plethra at Erchia in the Attic Mesogaia ([Pl.] Alcib. I 123c); or Lysimachus’ 200-plethra in Euboea (see n. 64 above); on these, see Finley (1973), 58; on Alcibiades, see also APF, 20. See also Ste Croix’s classic (1966) study of the estate of Phaenippus: ‘‘I suggest that we ought to think in terms of no more than three or four hundred acres [¼ 1,390–1,850 plethra] at the very most, and probably only a hundred or two [¼ 460–920 plethra]’’ (p. 110). 158 See Leake (1835), 106–11; Fredrich (1906b), 257–9; Philippson (1950–9), vol. 4, 53–60.



especially) because their labour would have been vital to the exploitation of very large estates. Assuming that in Greek antiquity one man could plough between 0.2 to 0.4 hectares and harvest 0.2 hectares per day, our 1,000 plethra (87 hectares) under biennial fallow would require 109 to 218 man days to plough and 218 man days to harvest.159 Guessing a force of forty to Wfty slaves per plot, each task could be accomplished in four to Wve days.160 In sum, the number of cleruchs, non-cleruchs, and slaves would result in a total population for the cleruchy at Scyros that is comparable to that of the modern island (c.2,700 people).161 We must remember that the total size of Scyros is 202 km2 , so that (if our approximations are sound) population density on this cleruchy would have been thirteen inhabitants per square km. This level of habitation tells us something very interesting about the way that the Athenian grain supply from the cleruchies functioned, and how it compared to settlement patterns and the economy of Attica. Contrast Euonymon’s calculated minimum population of 2,300 and its total size of c:15 km2 : a population density of at least 153 inhabitants per square km. This stark diVerence in settlement density between area of production and area of consumption resulted in large surpluses that could be shipped and sold at Athens, or taxed by Agyrrhius’ dodekate in grain. Our calculations of total grain production for Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros put us in the realm of probability, since the First Fruits oVered in 329/8 must have been very small fractions of a total of approximately this order. It is true that our estimates are, on average, about 25% higher per island than those extrapolated from IG II2 1672 by Garnsey and others, but this should not surprise us: as we have seen in Chapter 1, these scholars may well have used the wrong fractions to calculate total production; or 329/8 may have produced a bad harvest; or (according to A. H. M. Jones) Athenian farmers may 159 See Foxhall (2003), 81; cf. Braudel (1981), 337. 160 Given the paucity of our evidence this cannot be more than a guess, grounded in Athenian reality only by the statement of Socrates (in Plato) that a wealthy man in the Greek cities of his day would have ‘‘Wfty slaves or more’’ (Resp. 578e). I fancy the input of agricultural labour in an Athenian cleruchy to have been similar to that described in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina (part 3, chapter 4), where Levin joins his fortytwo liberated serfs in harvesting his estate. I thank Oswyn Murray for bringing this passage to my attention. 161 See R. Barber (1988), 423.

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have systematically underestimated their crops.162 (In relation to this last possibility, we must observe that the dodekate, being a Xat rent/ tax amount of 500 medimnoi, was impossible to evade by underestimating production.) More importantly, our calculations allow for each of our cleruchs to pay a yearly tax of 500 medimnoi in grain, while retaining just as much for individual consumption and sale. This Wts with the assumption, surely correct, that it was not Agyrrhius’ aim, by switching the dodekate from cash to grain in 374/3, to kill the goose that lay the golden egg. Finally, our calculated tax of nearly 300,000 medimnoi Wts well with Demosthenes’ information that 400,000 medimnoi came to Athens from ‘‘all other places’’. As grain sources for fourth-century Athens, our three islands put together will have ranked only below the Bosporan Kingdom itself.163 The Grain-Tax reveals much about the power and wealth of Athenian emporoi. For in order to collect even the minimum tax of 30,000 medimnoi, a single tax-collector would have had to mobilize ten ships to Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros. And at the likely tax level of about 270,000 medimnoi, ninety ships would be required. In order to collect this much grain, the tax-collector would undoubtedly have to arrange sub-contracts with a multitude of smaller emporoi, and call on a very large group of solvent guarantors (varying according to 162 A. H. M. Jones (1957), 77; on evasion, see Stroud (1998), 34 n. 69. I consider the speciWc proportions of 1/600 for barley and 1/1200 for wheat, used by Garnsey to extrapolate total production form IG II2 1672, as uncertain in the extreme (see Chapter 1, pp. 13–14). 163 If the grain tax of Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros was in the vicinity of 300,000 medimnoi, as the evidence shows must be the case, Stroud’s identiWcation of the Aiakeion as the Rectangular Peribolos in the Athenian agora is to be rejected. Even the minimum tax of 30,000 medimnoi required by the law almost equals the c.31,000 medimnoi which Stroud admits would hardly Wt into this building of 821 m2 . (See Stroud (1998), 98: Wtting 31,000 medimnoi of grain in the Rectangular Peribolos would require piling it up to a height of c.2 m and leaving no room inside for work or access.) How large would the Aiakeion then need to be? Clearly Athens envisaged that only the net tax would be stored there (obviously, the tax-collector could not bid to deliver to Athens the gross tax, leaving himself no proWt or means to fund his operation). If we therefore imagine that the Aiakeion would Wt a net tax of, say, half of 270,000 medimnoi, this would require a building at least four times the size of the Rectangular Peribolos, and about as large as the Square Peristyle on the east side of the agora (dated, however, c.300). While I agree with Stroud that the Aiakeion is somewhere near the agora, perhaps it still lies undiscovered to its north or east. The evidence for a location in Kollytos is an epigraphic restoration, and I would thus prefer it not to dictate where we should look for the Aiakeion.



what fraction of the gross tax he bid to bring back to Athens). Clearly the rules for the sale of this tax are drafted to favour men endowed with extensive maritime contacts and the support of a network of solvent friends. The Grain-Tax therefore makes untenable the old view that all Greek emporoi were humble men.164 Let us now ask if there could have been an earlier dodekate in grain applied to the Athenian cleruchs at Histiaea, Chalcis, Eretria, and Carystus. Two considerations show this to be a very likely possibility. First, as we have seen, the tax and its computation as a rent in kind are Solonic, just as the Wrst Athenian cleruchy at Salamis. But a second piece of evidence is decisive, and applies directly to Euboea. We have seen Aristophanes’ Bdelycleon expressing angry disappointment with the politicians who ‘‘promised Euboea, but never gave it’’.165 If Aristophanes is seeking in this passage to portray the demagogues as tight-Wsted crooks, the modern reader is inevitably confused to Wnd a grain distribution ‘‘in Wve-medimnoi amounts’’ (ŒÆ a     ı) being criticized, since this would entail each recipient’s receiving a free choinix of barley every day for eight months, a lavish gift! How should we understand this statement? There is no error in the text: the Wve-medimnoi amounts are a tenth of the Wftymedimnoi amounts (ŒÆ a  Œ Æ) that the demagogues had originally promised one line earlier. It is the crucial evocation of the fraction (a tenth) that gives the joke its point: because it assumes that even the supposedly generous promise of Wfty medimnoi fell one-tenth short of the amount (i.e. 500 medimnoi—a dodekate) that Aristophanes and his audience must have perceived as being due from the cleruchic taxpayer on Euboea. In short, by enshrining in his law the promise that each share would be 500 medimnoi ( b æd ,Œ  ÆØ  ÆŒØ Ø Ø Ø), Agyrrhius was distributing grain to the Athenian demos precisely as Bdelycleon had wished, in 500medimnoi amounts. The Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 would, under this theory, not be Agyrrhius’ invention, but would have a direct predecessor in Athenian-controlled, Wfth-century Euboea. A Euboean dodekate in grain, if we follow Aristophanes’ language, would have been habitually proposed by politicians, most recently (as the scholiast suggests) in 424/3 at a time of special danger to the 164 See discussion in Chapter 5, pp. 242–99.

165 Ar. Vesp. 715–18.

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island, when Athenian troops were mobilized there.166 It was therefore not a yearly tax, but an eisphora, which incidentally is the term that we Wnd in the mutilated regulations for the cleruchy at Histiaea.167 The Grain-Tax of 374/3 itself is probably best considered as an eisphora, but (being embodied in a nomos) one to be paid every year in perpetuity. Agyrrhius’ law thus becomes the Wrst known yearly eisphora, a mode of taxation previously thought to have begun in Athens only during the last half of the fourth century.168 If Athens imposed eisphorai in grain on wealthy cleruchs on Euboea by 422, just as in Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros in 374/3, our knowledge of the Athenian grain supply is radically transformed. The evidence shows that the importance of these islands as grain sources was based on surplus production from the land-holdings of a relatively small number of wealthy citizens. Wealthy Athenians could transport their supply of grain to Athens and sell it there, but they could also be directly taxed for a considerable part of it by the demos. The problem of how this delicate fact should be handled undoubtedly shaped the political relationship of the Athenian demos and its aristocracy. Chapter 5 of this book will examine in greater detail the textual evidence for this interesting clash of economic and political ambitions.

D. The Decelean Route (446–13 bc) Along with their regulations concerning the eisphora from Histiaea, the Athenians included regulations concerning the cattle (‘‘horses, asses, and sheep’’) belonging to their cleruchs, and the rates for ferrying passengers along the main routes in the Euboean gulf: Chalcis–Oropus, Oropus–Histiaea, and Chalcis–Histiaea.169 Lines 72–7 are most tantalizing. Lewis edits them thus: 166 See n. 114 above. 167 See n. 74 above. 168 See Hansen (1999), 112 n. 318. 169 IG I3 41, ll. 60, 67–76 (446/5 or soon after). The restoration of the fares and routes in IG I3 is as follows (I also include those in ATL III, 301–2, and McGregor (1982), 105, in parentheses): Chalcis to Oropus, 3 obols (2 obols); Oropus to Histiaea (or to Dium?), or vice versa, 7 obols (1 dr.); Chalcis to Histiaea, 4 obols. Note only the Oropus–Histiaea route is price-controlled in each direction, and also that these transactions, and indeed the entire monetary economy of Euboea under the Athenian Empire, were carried out using Athenian currency: see Kraay (1976), 89.




ÆæÆ O º[ . . . . . . . . . :21 . . . . . . . . . : :] [:] b h Ø  ı [ . . . . . . . . .18 . . . . . . . . .  ][] ÆØ, º e h[Øı: Ka b h  æŁ b] [K]ŁºØ ¼ª e  [ Æ . . .7 . . . :ŒÆ a a ªª][æÆ] Æ, :¯:[ . . . . . . . . . . . . : :29 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ] ----------------------------------------------

The inscription is so fragmentary that it is impossible to know securely what is missing, but I think that this very speciWc clause, showing the Athenian state ensuring that those engaged in a certain kind of   from Euboea pay only half-price to the ferryman, is much more likely to refer to the conveyance of grain (  or KŒ c F  ı, or Ø   Æ) than to a festival or mission.170 Whatever the speciWc content, the inscription clearly demonstrates that the sea-traYc between Attica and Euboea was important and required the direct oversight of the Athenian demos.171 The mass naval evacuation of Xocks and beasts of burden from Attica, sent ‘‘to Euboea and the nearby islands’’ in 431, was therefore not without long and signiWcant precedent, both logistical and legal.172 The inscription also clearly shows the important role of the Oropus–Decelea route for transport between Athens and Euboea as far back as 446, and that such transport was not a measure instituted during the Peloponnesian War.173 Oropus (mod. Skala Oropou) had provided Athens with its principal ‘‘bridge’’ to Euboea since 506.174 170 Pace e.g. McGregor (1982), 109. If the subject were a festival (of which Athens had very many), how could a ferryman normally hope to ascertain that a passenger was in fact going to it? Calculating a smaller stoichos, Hiller von Ga¨rtringen had: Ł

ÆæÆ O º: [Ka b º Øj ] b h Ø  ı [, ÆP e b b  j] ÆØ,

º e h[Øı: Ka  Ø jb] ŁºØ ¼ª e [º Æ ŒÆ a a ªªjæÆ] Æ (see Cary (1925), 246–7). For forms of   see: Thuc. 3.51: KŒ ; 4.108 (of Amphipolis):  ºØ ÆP E q TºØ  ºø  Æı ª  ø  fiB; also Dem. 18.87, 241, 301; 19.123; 23.155; Theopomp. FGrHist 115 F292; Philoch. FGrHist 328 F 162: Ø   Æ; IG II2 212.15: KŒ c F  ı; GHI II 100, ll. 219–20: K æ Æ NŒ Æ ŒÆd j[Ø ]   Æ . . . 171 Ziebarth (1929), 123. 172 Thuc. 2.14. Notice, with HCT II, 48, the use of the aorist ØłÆ , denoting ‘‘a single, organized operation, aided perhaps by the state for the transport by sea’’, in contrast to the previous imperfects. The evacuation was not, of course, total: see Thuc. 7.27. 173 See Ziebarth (1929), 123, against the view held e.g. by Jarde´ (1925: 197 n. 4). 174 The date is based on the Athenian campaign against Boeotia and Chalcis in Hdt. 5.77, see Petrakos (1997), 489. Given our absolute lack of evidence, the likeliest

The Fruits of Empire


As Thucydides says, ‘‘Oropus, facing Eretria, while held by the Athenians could not be other than a serious annoyance, both to Eretria and to the whole of Euboea’’.175 There was an Athenian æ æØ there for precisely this purpose.176 Describing the main route between Oropus and Athens, via Decelea, Ober concludes: ‘‘The Decelea road was clearly a major access route and deWnitely could be used by even the largest, most heavily encumbered armies’’.177 There is no question that loaded mules and carts could easily cover this route of 48 km.178

E. The Sunium Route and the Loss of Euboea (413–411 bc) It was the occupation of Decelea by the Peloponnesian army from 413 that cut the Oropus–Athens route and required the new and expensive step of sending all traYc of provisions from Euboea around Sunium. Provisions, which had been formerly conveyed by the shorter route from Euboea to Oropus and thence overland through Decelea, were now carried by sea round the promontory of Sunium at great cost. Athens was obliged to import everything from abroad, and resembled a fort rather than a city.179

Although the Peloponnesians now ‘‘prevented the Athenians from enjoying the use of their land’’, practically destroying Attica’s agriculture and husbandry,180 this is clearly not the meaning of ‘‘at great guess for the date of the Wrst annexation of Oropus by Athens is c.519, i.e. coinciding with the Plataean alliance in Thuc. 3.68 (Beloch (1912), 391 n. 3). Pace ACT I, 279 (‘‘It cannot have been Athenian in 507 because it is not a Kleisthenic deme’’), Oropus was, like Salamis and Eleutherae, a Cleisthenic possession not included in the Cleisthenic system (see Rhodes (1993), 253, 773). The acropolis of Classical Oropus seems to have been on Loumperdi hill (80 m. above sea level): see Cosmopoulos (2001), 58; Frazer (1913), 465; with HMGS (1990). 175 Thuc. 8.60 (Jowett trans.). It was land, as Thucydides says (2.23), m  ÆØ æØ Ø `Ł Æ ø !Œ Ø. 176 Thuc. 8.60; see also Lys. 20.6 with Rhodes (1993), 611. 177 Ober (1985), 115. 178 See NSID, 209. 179 Thuc. 7.28 (Jowett trans.) with Ehrenberg (1962), 116; pace Michell (1940), 262; Westlake (1948), 3 n. 1. 180 Thuc. 7.27, with Westlake (1948), 3–5, and Ehrenberg (1962), 116 n. 3, challenged by Hanson (1995), 153–66.



cost’’ in this context.181 Thucydides is here saying simply that sea transport from Euboea around Sunium was more expensive than transport by sea from Euboea to Oropus, and thence by land through the Decelean pass—an important exception to the modern dogma that land transport in antiquity was necessarily more uneconomical and ineYcient than sea transport.182 To what in particular does Thucydides’ ‘‘great cost’’ then refer? The answer lies in the logistical aspects of securing the new Sunium route. Modern sailing times suggest that instead of a one-hour sail between Oropus and Eretria,183 the Athenians now had to deal with journeys lasting over nine hours in the best conditions,184 longer given the notoriously hazardous winds and diYcult waters past the narrows oV Cape Ay. Marina, through the channel between Attica and the island of Helena (mod. Makronesos), and around Cape Sunium.185 A short crossing previously left to individuals using the local ferrymen, and in any case easily guarded from mutually visible shores,186 was thus turned into a massive state-directed eVort to engage, coordinate, and protect convoys of merchant ships using the new route.187 Thucydides gives the most important example of these centralized preparations: during the winter of 413/12, the Athenians ‘‘fortiWed Sunium for the protection of their grain-ships on their sailing-round (æ º ı) [from Euboea] to Athens’’.188 Archaeology can amplify 181 Pace Westlake (1948), 3–4. 182 See ibid. 3. 183 Buchon (1911), 74: ‘‘D’Oropos a` Eretria, il n’y a qu’une heure de navigation par un bon vent’’. 184 See Noel-Baker (2000), 45, describing a caique journey (‘‘with good wind in her sails’’) from Piraeus to Chalcis in autumn. 185 Pouilloux (1954), 19–20; Mussche (1961), 178; Semple (1932), 629; Lawrence (1979), 174. 186 Thuc. 8.60: the Athenian garrison at Oropus (.Ł Æ ø Kæ ıæ  ø ); Thuc. 8.95: the Athenian fort on the territory of Eretria ( e  ØÆ e K fiB ¯æ æ fi Æ) with HCT V, 319–20. 187 See Thuc. 7.28: H   ø › ø KÆŒ H KE  ºØ, ŒÆd I d F ºØ r ÆØ æ æØ ŒÆ  . 188 Thuc. 8.4. The æ º ı is clearly that around Attica from Euboea, not just that around the Sunium promontory: see HCT V, 11 (connecting this with Thuc. 7.28); this is also made clear by the fact that the ‘‘intended preparations’’ detailed in this chapter (ÆæÆŒı" . . . uæ Ø Ł Æ . . .) look back to 8.1 to their initial description, among which is: . . . ŒÆd a H ıø K IºØÆ  ØEŁÆØ, ŒÆd ºØ Æ c ¯h ØÆ . . . (‘‘. . . they would make sure of their allies, and above all of Euboea . . .’’: Jowett).

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this passage, although the crumbling cliVs of Sunium have taken some of this important fortiWcation into the sea.189 Wrede carried out the fundamental study of the oldest remaining fortiWcation at Sunium, a wall of poros blocks running northwest to southeast for about 110 m, and measuring up to 2.6 m in height.190 The wall could safely be dated to the last half of the Wfth century based on independent criteria,191 and Wrede speciWcally attributed its unusually hasty and poor execution to the emergency described by Thucydides in 413/12.192 The wall of the fort, originally about 400 m long, with towers, controlled land access to the cape from north and east, while the sea-facing cliVs, about 20 m high, completed the circuit to the south and west.193 The two ship-sheds situated outside the walls to the northwest, and believed also to date from 413/12, were apparently built to house guard-ships about half as long as triremes.194 The Athenians must have paid dearly for this project, but they received a clear return: the ground at the top of the fortress, 63 m above sea level, has uninterrupted visibility over the Aegean for about 2258, northeast to west.195 Archaeology has shown that the other pivotal Attic coastal fortresses on the route from the Euboean gulf to Piraeus (‘‘le comple´ment ne´cessaire du Sounion au Sud’’) was Rhamnous.196 An outer circuit of towers and walls, about 800 m long and at least 6 m high, surround a fortiWed citadel 40 m above sea level.197 The site commands the Euboean gulf before it narrows dangerously at Cape Ayia 189 Mussche (1964), 430; map in Travlos (1988), 408. 190 Wrede (1933), 10–11, pls. 26–7, with plan in Mussche (1964). 191 Another wall of the same masonry style stands as a reinforcement of the inner wall of the Poseidon temenos, Wnished c.440: see n. 192 below. 192 Wrede (1933), 10–11, 19, pls. 26–7, 45–7, with Mussche (1964), 424, and Travlos (1988), 404. 193 Ibid. 405. 194 Blackman (1968), 185, against the Hellenistic date proposed by Kenny (1947), 197 (and followed e.g. by Osborne (1985), 31, and Hornblower (2002), 126). Kenny relied on the fact that ‘‘the ship-sheds are outside the Wfth-century wall’’. However, the passage from Demetrius of Callatis, quoted in n. 259 below, shows that Athenian ships at the fort on Atalante were hauled up outside the walls. 195 HMGS (1988). 196 See Pouilloux (1954), 58. 197 Petrakos (1999a), 47–51, ills. 8–9; map, 16. Frazer (1913), 449, gives a good description of the site.



Marina, 5.25 km to the southeast. Visibility is excellent from the area of the narrows, all the way to the territory of Eretria at Amarynthos to the northwest. Just below the fort down its east and west slopes are two convenient harbours.198 The size and Wnish of the complex leave a decidedly diVerent impression from the work at Sunium, and there is a simple reason why Thucydides does not group the two: the most recent excavations at Rhamnous have dated the fortiWcation deWnitively to c.450.199 This fact is conWrmed epigraphically: by 429/8, Rhamnous was secure enough for its sanctuary of Nemesis not to have to transfer its treasures to Athens, whereas, for example, Poseidon at Sunium did make such a transfer.200 The mid-Wfth-century date provides the essential clue to the nature of this Attic fort. If we accept 446 (or shortly thereafter) as the likeliest date of its construction, we Wnd that Rhamnous is as closely linked to Euboea historically as it is geographically (at a mere 8 km across the straits). We have, in other words, a fort built speciWcally to secure Athenian control of that island. We shall have opportunity below to explore its companion forts (largely unexplored and probably contemporary) ringing Euboea like so many iron bars. We must now examine a third site, at Thoricus, where the Belgian Mission led by H. Mussche excavated a fort on the neck of the Ayios Nikolaos peninsula.201 The fort’s walls, about 800 m long and surviving up to 2.7 m in height, enclosed an isthmus between two sheltered bays, Frankolimani and Port Mandri, which are strategically situated halfway between Piraeus and Rhamnous, and supplied

198 Petrakos (1999a), 161–2, ills. 101–2. 199 Ibid. 26, 79. The key to the dating is the circular tower at the entrance to the citadel, dated by ceramic Wnds to 480–50, and providing a terminus post quem for an orthogonal tower enclosing it (ibid. 145–8, ills. 92–4). The masonry of the later tower is analogous to that of the south wall of the outer enceinte (ibid. 51–61, ills. 10–17), and of the retaining walls of the sanctuary of Nemesis outside the fort; the in-Wll of the latter, on which the great temple stood, yielded ceramics no later than the mid-Wfth century (ibid. 210–15, ills. 106, 126–8). There is now no reason to follow Pouilloux, Wrede, and Scranton in dating the fort to 412 (see Pouilloux (1954), 43–60). 200 IG I3 383 (accounts of the Treasurers of the Other Gods, pursuant to the 434/3 decree of Callias, GHI 58A), ll. 106–11, 319, 330–1, with Eliot (1956), 200; Petrakos (1999a), 79; GHI, 146. 201 See the map in Travlos (1988), 433.

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with spring water.202 The top of the fort, where the saint’s chapel now stands, is at 31 m above sea level and commands the channel of Makronesos.203 Despite the intrinsic uncertainty in dating any ancient wall by its style of construction, Wrede’s analysis at Sunium provided Mussche with the basis for dating the fort at Thoricus to the winter of 413/12—and this despite the explicit testimony of Xenophon, who dates it to the spring of 410/9.204 In the fort at Thoricus Mussche claimed to identify not only a design similar to Sunium’s, but also the same hasty and poor masonry work.205 Should we accept Mussche’s arguments? Although Mussche does not note this, Xenophon’s alleged mistake in post-dating could be placed alongside another (much more serious) Xaw in the earliest section of the Hellenica: the recall of the Syracusan Hermocrates, wrongly put in the summer of 410/9 instead of 411/10.206 If Xenophon was indeed mistaken and Thoricus was fortiWed in 413/12, it would, however, be much more diYcult to account for Thucydides’ silence. We should surely expect him to say ‘‘they fortiWed Sunium and Thoricus for the protection of their grain-ships . . .’’. It is, in short, more likely that Thoricus was not fortiWed in the same year as Sunium. But the archaeological insights of Mussche can be combined with another, much better alternative date. In midsummer of 411, before the revolt of Euboea,207 we Wnd the Four Hundred fortifying Eetioneia

202 Mussche (1961), 177–80 (the spring emerges underwater in Port Limani, and Mussche reports its use by local Wshermen); see Frazer (1913), 408. Notice the length of the walls is similar to that at Rhamnous, and also to that at Decelea (‘‘the perimeter exceeded 800 m in length and the carefully built rubble was about 2 m thick’’: Lawrence (1979), 175). 203 Mussche (1961), 178, with HMGS (1988); on St Nicholas, the patron saint of sailors, often found taking over havens like Thoricus from pagan predecessors, see Semple (1932), 623–4, 629. 204 Xen. Hell. 1.2.1: )fiH b ¼ººfiø  Ø . . . `Ł ÆE Ø b ¨ æØŒe K  ØÆ . 205 Mussche (1961), 204; (1964), 431. 206 Cf. Xen. Hell. 1.1.27 with Thuc. 8 and HCT V, 281–5, 441–2 (referring to the period around 411/10 as ‘‘the years about which he [Xenophon] knew least’’). 207 If one follows the chronology set out by Rhodes (1993), 405–11, based on [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 32.1–33.1, then the Four Hundred dismissed the democratic Council on 14 Thargelion (¼ 9 June) 412/11, and fell by the end of the second month of 411/10 (i.e. late August or early September), so that their rule spanned four (Attic) calendar months: Thargelion, Skirophorion, Hekatombaion, and Metageitnion.



and the makra stoa in the Piraeus.208 The leaders of the operation, according to Xenophon, were Aristoteles, Melanthius, Aristarchus, and their fellow generals.209 Thucydides describes their activities: They also walled oV the largest stoa in the Piraeus and the nearest to the new fortiWcation, which it joined; this they controlled themselves, and ordered that the grain be seized, both what was already inside and what came in by sea, and that it be taken for sale from there.210

It is clear from this passage that the Four Hundred were attempting to exercise a strict control over Athenian grain stocks and supplies.211 This should cause the attentive reader no surprise, and even less suspicion, or else Thucydides (who has a well-known antipathy for this group) would hardly have missed the opportunity to raise it.212 This was Agis’ third year at Decelea,213 Oropus had been lost to the Boeotians less than six months before,214 and Euboean rebels had made two known overtures to Sparta over the past eighteen months.215 Athenian Wnances were in a shambles, and (as we have seen) the transport of grain around Attica was extremely costly. Even before a Peloponnesian Xeet appeared in the Saronic gulf, it was therefore clear that the summer of 411 would be decisive for the fate of Euboea and its role as a source of grain for Athens. But now Agesandridas and his forty-two ships were at hand, ready at any moment to sail along the coasts of Attica to Euboea and raise the

208 This is probably the same as the stoa IºØ øºØ built by Pericles; see [Dem.] 34.37; Ar. Ach. 548 with schol 548a; Ø ØŒe KæØ : [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 51.4. Judeich (1931), 448, locates it on the northern side of the Great Harbour, on the peninsula that separates the latter from the ˚øe ¸Ø . See also Garland (1987), 152–3. 209 Xen. Hell. 2.3.45. Aristarchus, the only one of these three men who appears in APF, may have been from Decelea (see APF, 48). Did a personal interest in the old grain-route contribute to his fortiWcation activities in 411? It would also be interesting to know the demotics of the other two. 210 Thuc. 8.90. My translation follows the comments in HCT V, 306–7. 211 See Rosivach (2000), 47: ‘‘an eVort to prevent hoarding by middlemen’’. 212 There is, for example, no suggestion whatsoever that the Four Hundred were planning to ‘‘starve’’ Athens into acquiescence to their rule, as Ferguson (1958: 337) thinks. On Thucydides’ antipathy for the Four Hundred, see Westlake (1989), 181–200. 213 Thuc. 7.19. 214 Thuc. 8.60. 215 Thuc. 8.5 (early 412: Euboean envoys to Agis at Decelea); 8.60 (early 411: Eretrian envoys to the Peloponnesian navy at Rhodes).

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island in revolt.216 It was in these urgent circumstances that the Four Hundred will have decided to supplement Sunium and Rhamnous, the two principal forts securing the passage of grain from Euboea, with a third fort at Thoricus and a fourth at Piraeus itself, on Eetioneia. Unfortunately, Thucydides does not tell us any of this, at least not directly. He will simply not allow the leadership of the Four Hundred or their generals to speak for themselves. Instead, Thucydides is happy to report only the inXammatory criticism of their dissident colleague Theramenes: Theramenes insisted that these ships were intended, not for Euboea, but for the party who were fortifying Eetioneia, and that if the people were not on the alert, they would be undone before they knew where they were.217

And again: Theramenes insisted that if they had been on their way to Euboea they would never have gone up the Saronic gulf to Aegina and then turned and anchored at Epidaurus but that someone had invited them for the purposes which he had always alleged; it was impossible therefore to be any longer indiVerent.218

Both of these abbreviated speeches reveal something that Thucydides does not wish to present explicitly, namely the explanation of the Four Hundred themselves for their policy of fortiWcation. If we read between the few lines assigned to Theramenes, we can see plainly enough that they were appealing to the existing danger to Euboea. Their previous actions amply conWrm this: only eight days after the inauguration of their new Council on 22 Thargelion, the Four Hundred had sent out to Eretria one of their own members, Polystratus of Deirades, as its new garrison commander (a fact which we learn, not from Thucydides, of course, but from pseudo-Lysias!).219 Let us therefore consider what the danger to Euboea had to do with a fortiWcation at Piraeus, and the solution is clear: with the Athenian navy at Samos in open insurrection against the new regime, Piraeus

216 Thuc. 8.91–2. 217 Thuc. 8.91 (Jowett trans.). 218 Thuc. 8.92 (Jowett trans.). 219 [Lys.] 20.14, 17; see APF, 467–8. The inauguration date (in [Aris.] Ath. Pol. 32) equals 17 June, that of Polystratus’ departure 24 June; see n. 207 above.



was dangerously unprotected, its main harbour and grain stores vulnerable to a Peloponnesian raid—or worse. All shipping into Piraeus was likewise open game. This fact, and not some nefarious concert with the Four Hundred, is what must have brought Agesandridas into the Saronic gulf in the Wrst place, and retained him there for some time. Years later, one early morning in the spring of 387, Teleutias with twelve ships showed just what Agesandridas will have hoped: slipping into Piraeus, he seized merchants and shipowners from the Deigma,220 towed away their ships, and sailed back out to intercept Wshermen, ferries, and merchantmen bringing in grain and other goods from the direction of Sunium.221 In the face of this very real and dangerous possibility, it made sound sense for the Four Hundred to fortify not only the entrance to the harbour, but also the makra stoa with its stores of grain. They also needed to reinforce the route from Euboea against Peloponnesian piracy, which meant fortifying Thoricus as quickly as possible. The hasty and poor masonry work discovered at Thoricus reXects Thucydides’ description of the work at Eetioneia (‘‘they worked eagerly on the fortiWcation and wanted to have it Wnished in time’’), and we might have comparable archaeological remains in Piraeus today had the building not been completely dismantled at the instigation of Theramenes.222 It is clear why Thucydides, who wants to guide his reader as unambiguously as possible to his own version that Eetioneia was nothing but a stratagem to betray Athens to Sparta, never makes clear this concern of the Four Hundred for the safety of Piraeus or Euboea. His wholehearted espousal of Theramenes’ conspiracy theory regarding Eetioneia is barely concealed behind a sly fac¸ade of distanced objectivity. ‘‘The charge was not a mere calumny, but had some foundation in the disposition of the ruling party’’.223 Thucydides leaves unmentioned the fortiWcation of Thoricus because doing so would have given the lie to his case, and revealed the honest concern of the Four Hundred, his villains, for the safety of the Athenian grain supply. Xenophon probably had more innocent reasons for placing the fortiWcation of Thoricus in 410/9. As Mussche showed, his interest in 220 On the Deigma, see Judeich (1931), 448. 222 Thuc. 8.92, 94. 223 Thuc. 8.91.

221 Xen. Hell. 5.1.21–4.

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that fortiWcation is directly linked to his long-held conviction of the importance of the Laurium mines.224 Xenophon refers to Thoricus once again (and at greater length) in Ways and Means, but only in connection with its use as a base for cavalry and patrols protecting the mines against enemy incursion, and as a place to secure the mines’ slave personnel.225 Here Xenophon is undoubtedly looking back to the Decelean War,226 and his memory of 410/9 in connection with Thoricus (if not an outright mistake, his second misplaced event from the summer of 411) may perhaps relate to its role (even its refortiWcation?) against an otherwise undocumented threat from Decelea to Laurium in 409. It is clear why Xenophon would have disregarded Thoricus’ role as an important naval station on the route from Euboea: if its fortiWcation by the Four Hundred is correct, that role will have turned out to be negligibly short. When Euboea rose in revolt in late August or early September 411, the fort had probably been in use for not much longer than a month. We can reXect that had the partisan opinion of Theramenes against the fort at Eetioneia not prevailed, and had the Four Hundred been given the opportunity to act on their legitimate interest in securing the Euboean grain-route, Athens might well have avoided the Wnal calamity of losing Euboea. Instead, Athenian forces spent much of the precious summer of 411 absorbed in paranoia, fearing and ineVectually dismantling a useful fortiWcation. It was not until Agesandridas had Wnally sailed around Sunium that the majority Wnally woke up to the imminent loss of their principal granary, and scrambled to piece together some semblance of a response. Disingenuously, as if the Four Hundred had not long anticipated this by sending out Polystratus, Thucydides now says: ‘‘the matter was vital and urgent: Euboea was all in all to them now that they were shut out from Attica’’.227 The historian makes the pitiful defeat of the thirtysix Athenian ships Wnally assembled at Eretria almost sound like a surprise: 224 Mussche (1961), 202–4: ‘‘Xe´nophon . . . n’envisage que le point de vue du tacticien terrestre’’. 225 Xen. Vect. 4.43–8. 226 Cf. the report of 20,000 escaped Athenian slaves in Thuc. 7.27, and the similar phenomenon at Chios (Thuc. 8.40). 227 Thuc. 8.95 (Jowett trans.).



When the news of the battle and of the defection of Euboea was brought to Athens, the Athenians were panic-stricken. Nothing which had happened before, not even the ruin of the Sicilian expedition, however overwhelming at the time, had so terriWed them. The army at Samos was in insurrection; they had no ships in reserve or crews to man them; there was a revolution at home—civil war might break out at any moment: and by this new and terrible misfortune they had lost, not only their ships, but what was worse, Euboea, on which they were more dependent for supplies than on Attica itself. Had they not reason to despair? But what touched them nearest, and most agitated their minds, was the fear lest their enemies, emboldened by victory, should at once attack the Piraeus, in which no ships were left; indeed they fancied that they were all but there. And had the Peloponnesians been a little more enterprising they could have easily executed such a plan . . . 228

The paragraph is a masterpiece: Thucydides here prepares his reader to assume uncritically that the deposition of the Four Hundred, to which his narrative turns immediately, was simply a natural consequence of their failure in avoiding this disaster, and their negligence in bringing Athens so close to total ruin.229 For had only the Spartans exploited this victory by besieging Piraeus, he says, they would have anticipated Lysander by seven years.230 Only a writer as skilful as Thucydides could avoid the fact that the Four Hundred had been right all along, and in the end land them squarely with the blame.231

I V. FO RT S A N D T H E I M P E R I A L T E R R I TO RY The ‘‘Old Oligarch’’, that shrewd observer of Wfth-century Athenian imperialism, argued that thalassocracy was the fundamental factor in giving the Athenians control of the natural resources from Sicily to 228 Thuc. 8.96 (Jowett trans.). 229 Thuc. 8.97. 230 Thuc. 8.96. 231 Thanks especially to Badian (1993), 125–62, we have begun to appreciate that a historical context in which rhetoric, dispute, and persuasion counted for so much produced Thucydides the advocate: a writer who may tell the truth and nothing but the truth, but often (and especially in matters of politics) not the whole truth. Needless to say, many historians still refuse to remove Thucydides from the pedestal of historical objectivity.

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Egypt to Pontus. Island allies, he tells us, were kept obedient by the threat of starvation (ºØfiH),232 while mainland cities were controlled either through fear (Øa  ) or need (Øa æ Æ ), depending on their size: ‘‘for there is no city which does not have to import or export, and these activities will be impossible for a city unless it is obedient to the rulers of the sea’’.233 This naval supremacy was responsible, according to him, for giving Athens access to crops ( ƒ ŒÆæ ) (2.6), luxury goods (ØŒæ æÆ; Pø ÆØ; ‹ Ø ) (2.7), naval mate´riel—timber, iron, copper, Xax, wax—and wealth generally (› º F ) (2.11). And, while enemies could be excluded from these resources, ‘‘I, without doing anything, have all this from the land because of the sea’’.234 In this connection (cf.  Ø ), the Old Oligarch mentions what he believes is the indispensable tool of Athenian naval enforcement: . . . every mainland has either a projecting headland or an oVshore island or some strait, so that it is possible for a naval power to put in there and to injure those who dwell on the land.235

Making no claim to being exhaustive, we can point to the oVensive use by the Athenians of Wve such locations in the pages of Thucydides.236 The Wrst of these is on Atalante (‘‘formerly an empty island oV the coast of Opuntian Locris’’) from 431;237 the second at Boudoron (‘‘a promontory on Salamis facing Megara’’) from 429 to 427;238 the

232 [Xen.] Ath. Pol. 2.2. 233 [Xen.] Ath. Pol. 2.3. 234 [Xen.] Ath. Pol. 2.12. 235 [Xen.] Ath. Pol. 2.13. Pace Kalinka (1913), 222, who considers this passage a non-sequitur, or an inept repetition of 2.4 (on ravaging by the thalassocrat, generally), it is indisputable that economic and military considerations are closely inter-linked in this and previous sections of the text. 236 Additional examples include: (1) on Cythera from 424 (Thuc. 4.54: taken and garrisoned by Nicias; 118: kept by Athens under truce of 423; 5.14: used with Pylos to ravage Laconia (ºfi  ı   B æÆ KŒ B —º ı ŒÆd ˚ıŁæø ); 18: required to be given up under Peace of Callias; but, 7.57, evidently still under Athens in 413); and (2) in Laconia opposite Cythera, on an isthmus-like site (Thuc. 7.26: K a ŒÆ Æ ØŒæf ˚ıŁæø B ¸ÆŒø ØŒB . . . NŁH Ø øæ ), probably on the bay of Boiai (HCT IV, 399–400), from summer to winter of 413/12 (8.4). 237 Thuc. 2.32. 238 Thuc. 2.93–4; the site (Kd b B ƺÆE  e IŒæø æØ e æe ªÆæÆ ›æH ) was identiWed on the south shore of the Perama promontory by McLeod (1960), 316–23.



third on the island of Minoa (‘‘in front of Megara’’) from 427;239 the fourth (and most elaborately narrated by Thucydides) at Pylos from 425 to 409;240 and the Wfth at Delphinium (on Chios) from 412 to 407.241 It is clear, however, that a naval fort could also be used defensively, as in the case of the Megarians at Minoa before the loss of the island to the Athenians.242 Or a fort could serve oVensive and defensive functions simultaneously. This was the case with the island of Atalante on the Euboean straits (see Map 2), fortiWed by the Athenian general Cleopompus in 431 ‘‘in order to prevent pirates (ºfi  Æ ) sailing from Opus and other places in Locris and plundering Euboea’’,243 but also as an ‘‘KØ  ØÆ of Locris for waging war on the inhabitants of the country’’.244 As the otherwise uncertain regulations for Histiaea suYce to show, piracy around Euboea had been a concern since the foundation of the cleruchy.245 Thucydides adds that Cleopompus had been sent ‘‘for the protection (ıºÆŒ) of Euboea’’.246 This is probably the oYcial wording of the mission, or close to it, since its last clause recalls the Wnal lines of the Chalcis decree of 446/5.247 The type of Athenian protection exercised at

239 Thuc. 3.51; 4.67, 118; Legon identiWed the site (m ŒE ÆØ æe ªæø ) as the modern promontory (and former island?) of Teichos; Thucydides implies that it superseded Boudoron as the main Athenian æ æØ against Megara. 240 Thuc. 4.2–6, 8–23, 26–41, 118 (mostly echoed by Diod. 12.61–3). The end of this fortiWcation, after the Spartan victory over its Messenian garrison, is in Diod. 13.64.5–7. Unsurprisingly, Pylos has received the most frequent attention of modern scholars, although (from a topographical point of view) it is the least amenable to a deWnitive solution, given the complex series of changes to the coastline since antiquity that Pritchett highlighted in (1965), 6–17, and revisited in (1994); see also Wilson (1979), 47–84. 241 Thuc. 8.38, 40, 55. The end of this fortiWcation is in Xen. Hell. 1.5.15; Diod. 13.76.3–4; the site was published by Boardman (1956), 41–9. 242 Thuc. 3.51. 243 Thuc. 2.32. 244 Diod. 12.44. 245 See IG I3 41, l. 39: [—.] Ka b ºØ Ð —; see Cary (1925), 250: ‘‘Fortunately the two main inferences from the inscription, that Histiaea was plagued with privateers and property-tax, stand beyond the range of doubt’’. 246 Thuc. 2.26; Diod. 12.44 has:   ¯h ØÆ ÆæÆıº

Ø ŒÆd ¸ Œæ E  ºE . Before fortifying Atalante, the general Cleopompus and his thirty ships had ravaged the Locrian countryside and taken hostages from Thronium. 247 IG I3 40, ll. 76–9: see pp. 100–1 above.

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Atalante in 431 perfectly suits the concepts that interested the Old Oligarch: by protecting Euboea, maritime forts would have provided Athens with the resources of the land through the control of the sea. This section will present evidence suggesting that other Athenian maritime forts besides Atalante ringed Euboea. This survey work necessarily provides only a preliminary footing. Nevertheless, its cumulative weight shows that the scholiast to Aristophanes is to be literally believed when he says that the Athenians under Pericles laid siege to the island (K ºØæŒ Æ ).248 And it seems that this encirclement lasted well beyond 446. The best-known segment of this ring of fortresses is, as we have seen, at Rhamnous. The archaeological case for the rest must remain circumstantial until excavation is undertaken, but we can make considerable headway by selectively examining the Wve examples oVered by Thucydides. They will help us understand not only the general purpose, but also the physical location and construction of these forts. Thucydides explains that on the promontory of Boudoron ‘‘there was a fort (æ æØ ) and a guard (ıºÆŒ) of three ships to prevent anything entering or exiting Megara by sea’’.249 The fort on the island of Minoa, located directly before Megara, was obviously expected to accomplish this blockade much more eYciently.250 Delphinium (15 km to the north of Chios) had a diVerent, more complex purpose: it was used to wreak havoc on the economy of an enemy territory,251 while its small double harbour also oVered easy control of the sea-traYc along the coast of Asia Minor.252 The location of these forts was determined not only by strategic considerations, but also by the access to supplies and the possibility of anchoring or beaching ships.253 Access to building materials for

248 Schol. vet. Ar. Nub. 213a. 249 Thuc. 2.93. Since the fort was in easy communication with Piraeus by means of Wre signals (æıŒ ) (Thuc. 2.94) it does not necessarily follow that ‘‘three ships were able to intimidate the Megarians’’ (McLeod (1960), 323), but the number seems common for forts of this type. Brasidas was nevertheless able to attack this fort by sailing out of Nisaea at night with forty ships. 250 Thuc. 3.51. 251 Delphinium became a magnet for slave desertions, like Decelea: see Thuc. 8.40 and cf. 7.27. 252 See Boardman (1956), 41–5. 253 See ibid. 42–3.



the fort was also crucial, as Demosthenes insisted at Pylos.254 Construction was to be quick, easy, and cheap, out of the available wood and stone. Thucydides oVers the fullest description in the case of Pylos: . . . at length the soldiers, who were standing about idle, were themselves seized with a desire to fortify the place forthwith. So they put their hands to the work; and, being unprovided with iron tools, brought stones which they picked out and put them together as they happened to Wt; if they required to use mortar, having no hods, they carried it on their backs, which they bent so as to form a resting-place for it, clasping their hands behind them that it might not fall oV. By every means in their power they hurried on the weaker points, wanting to Wnish them before the Lacedaemonians arrived. The position was in most places so strongly fortiWed by nature as to have no need of a wall . . . In six days the Athenians Wnished the wall on the land side, and in places towards the sea where it was most required; they then left Demosthenes with Wve ships to defend it.255

It is interesting to compare this description with the reported excavations on the fortiWcation wall on the acropolis at Delphinium: The thickness of the wall averaged 2.10 m and the construction was of rough stones quarried from the hill with no attempt at facing. There is hardly a stone in it which could not have been moved by one man, and everything points to hasty building. Such a wall could hardly have stood higher than about 3.0 m.256

We have no information on the number of men stationed in these garrisons, and we can expect that they varied from case to case. Diodorus, however, gives ‘‘about Wve hundred’’ as the number of the Athenian garrison at Delphinium surrendering to Callicratidas in 407.257 A number of two to Wve guard-ships for each maritime fort seems the standard, as the cases of Atalante, Boudoron, and Pylos show.

254 Thuc. 4.3 with HCT III, 439. 255 Thuc. 4.4 (Jowett trans.). Diod. 12.61.1 gives twenty days instead of six (. . . K YŒ Ø æÆØ K  Ø c —º ), but is probably wrong: HCT III, 441. The description of such forts conforms perfectly to Polybius’ famous summary of Greek practice in fortiWcation: Polyb. 6.42.2–3. 256 Boardman (1956), 47. 257 Diod. 13.76.4.

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After the fortiWcation of Atalante in 431, we hear no more of it until the great earthquake and tsunami of 426, which ‘‘carried away a part of the Athenian fort and dashed in pieces one of two ships which were drawn up’’.258 The full description of that event (evidently famous) by the Hellenistic historian-seismologist Demetrius of Callatis speciWes that these ships were triremes, and shows that they were drawn up on slips ( æØÆ) located just outside the Athenian enceinte.259 Atalante lay some 20 km across the Euboean gulf from Orobiae. But the preliminary survey of Euboea carried out by Sackett et al. (from 1939 to 1965) suggests a dozen other similar sites much closer to the island, of which the best example is Ayios Vasileios, on the coast north of ancient Kerinthos (nos. 13–14 on Map 2). The survey describes it as: . . . once an island and now a rocky promontory separated from the main island by a sandbar, and having abundant evidence of a Classical fortiWed settlement. Walls, tiles, and many sherds including good Wfthcentury black glaze are thickly scattered on the promontory and on the slopes opposite . . . 260

This short description, written in the 1960s, still holds perfectly. Autopsy on 26 March 2000 revealed a desolate and still unexplored site, c.400 m (northeast–southwest) by 200 m (northwest–southeast). The rocky nature of this chalk islet, like the rugged shore of the mainland directly opposite, makes it distinctly useless for an agricultural settlement. On the other hand, the enormous amount of ceramic debris from black-glaze vessels, tiles, and amphorae (the place having, as far as I could tell, no water-source of its own), shows that the place was long occupied. The stone socles of those buildings that are visible above ground (especially on the north side) recall the masonry work described at Pylos and Delphinium, and make the use of this site as a 258 Thuc. 3.89. 259 Strab. 1.3.20 (citing the extended description of this seismic event by Demetrius in his work on earthquakes). Outside the walls, the ships could be protected by an outer stockade, e.g. at Pylos (Thuc. 4.9 with HCT III, 444; Lawrence (1979), 161); and at Chios (Thuc. 8.40). For the logistics of building these slips and hauling ships onto them, see Coates and Shaw (1993), 87–90. See also n. 261 below. 260 Sackett et al. (1966), 44–5. The survey also reports slag and signs of local smelting (see 45, 110). This site (as well as the River Boudoros) is misplaced in Fossey and Morin (2000) (Barrington Atlas Map 55): cf. HMGS (1989), and ABSA 61, pl. 8.



maritime fort very probable. At least one area with the right slope and size for hauling up guard-ships exists on the islet itself,261 but the site’s main advantage consists in its control of the enormous, 6 km-long sandy beach stretching south from modern Angale to ancient Kerinthos.262 It also commands a wide panoramic view along much of the northeastern coast of Euboea, and as far as the islands of Sciathos and Peparethos (mod. Skopelos) to the north. Sackett et al. treat Ayios Vasileios as a representative site, suggesting that it formed part of a system of naval fortiWcation together with other Classical sites along the eastern coast of Euboea.263 From Oreoi/Histiaea to Carystus additional possible fort sites were identiWed at (with reference to Map 2): Elliniko (no. 11),264 Vasilika (no. 12),265 Kotsikia Paralia (near Kerinthos),266 Tambouri (near Kerinthos),267 Kerinthos (nos. 13–14),268 Pilion 261 The slipways at Sunium (dry length: 18 m) are considerably smaller and steeper than those at Zea in Piraeus (dry length: c.37 m), and show that guardships need not have been full-sized triremes: see Kenny (1947), 194–6, pl. 31–4; Blackman (1968), 184–5. 262 See Philippson (1950–9), vol. 1, 579 with HMGS (1989). 263 See Sackett et al. (1966), 75 n. 123. 264 Ibid. 42: ‘‘. . . two Archaic-Classical sites in the small coastal plain of Elliniko; . . . 25 m above the sea . . . a small terrace is thickly scattered with small Wne archaic sherds; . . . the second site is the lower and southern of two ridges . . . and there are considerable traces of fortiWcation walls which look earlier than Classical; . . . enough black and brown glaze of Wne thin fabric was found to suggest that the fortiWcations may date from the sixth century BC.’’ 265 Ibid. 42 n. 34: ‘‘A hill site c. 220 m above the beach, oval in shape north to south . . . On top of the hill is the ruin of a Frankish tower and there are walls and much masonry to the south and toward the spring. The scatter of sherds over the whole hill suggests a settlement of almost a square kilometer . . . Classical: black glaze sherds and tiles, pyramidal loom-weight.’’ 266 Ibid. 45: ‘‘. . . in a little bay with a sandy headland, there are Classical walls, tiles, and sherds (?remains of an Athenian fort) . . .’’; see Philippson (1950–9), vol. 1, 579 (under Port Lutro´). 267 Sackett et al. (1966), 44: ‘‘Classical brown and black unglazed tiles and traces of buildings on the summit’’; Philippson (1950–9), vol. 1, 579: ‘‘antike Tru¨mmer’’. 268 Sackett et al. (1966), 43–4: ‘‘. . . a cliV site at the south end of a sandy beach; . . . less than a kilometer from the sea there is another hill, Ayios Ilias; . . . a small enclosed plain is thus formed by the two hills and looks as if it were once a bay, now silted and dried up by a change in the shape of the estuary, which has in fact changed since 1939, when the estuary was too deep to wade even in summer. Classical: many black glaze sherds from cups, skyphoi, kantharoi, kraters, lekythoi. Fine Attic glazed ware including Red Figure fragments, one with part of draped Wgure

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(Kastri) (no. 15),269 Vlakhia (Asprokhorto),270 Limnionas (?) (northeast of Mt. Dhirfys),271 Lamari (?),272 Cape Kyme (no. 83),273 Ano Potamia (no. 81),274 Philagra (no. 89),275 and Geraestus (no. 92).276 A complementary function would have been served by similar sites on the opposite (and more accessible) side of the island, at Khironisi (no. 4),277 and basket, probably Attic import of the third quarter of the Wfth century. Also lamp and casserole fragments, tiles, and pyramidal loom weights; . . . traces of the approach to the town from the estuary and of a wall on the west side of the hill are still visible . . . The town area must have been considerable since the hill, about 300  60 m., was completely inhabited. It seems to have been abandoned before the Roman period.’’ 269 Ibid. 45: ‘‘. . . two hills: . . . a fortiWed rocky spur overlooking the village . . . traces of walling preserved between outcrops of rock and rising up to three courses and over 2 m high; the walled summit area is very conWned (c. 20  25 m); the second site is the adjacent spur; . . . sherds and tiles from both hills and from the valley slopes between include Classical (black glaze skyphoi fragments), etc . . .’’. 270 Ibid. 75 n. 123 (there confusingly called ‘‘Kastri (Vlakhia)’’). This is suggested by the survey as a possible coastal fortiWed site, but no ancient remains are reported. 271 Bakhuizen (1976), 49–51, attempts to identify a site on this bay with Elymnion; see also Bakhuizen (1985), 127–8, 140 n. 33. But Sackett et al. report nothing from the site except signs of smelting in Roman or Medieval times (1966), 110. 272 See Sackett et al. (1966), 75 n. 123: the site is probably near the mouth of the Lamaris river, commanding Paralia Khiliadou. This is suggested by the survey as a possible coastal fortiWed site, but no ancient remains are reported. 273 Ibid. 76: ‘‘. . . a much disintegrated wall roughly constructed of the local limestone, running for about 150 m in a north-west to south-east direction and ending against the cliVs at north and south. It defended an acropolis of c. 50  130 m from the landward side, and measured up to 2.0 m thickness, and stood 1.0–1.50 m high in places. Powell’s report of late or post-Classical graves and pithoi from here suggest that this was a fourth-century stronghold like Philagra and Kastri . . .’’; Sampson (1981), 54, is attracted to an early Hellenistic date. Khili is a separate site, c.1.5 km northwest from Cape Kyme (photo in ibid. pl. 96): ‘‘. . . strong walling high on the rocky spur overlooking the hamlet of Khili from the south, but this cannot be dated’’. 274 Sackett et al. (1966), 75; Sampson (1981), 54. See below, pp. 137–8. 275 Sackett et al. (1966), 80, and n. 132: ‘‘A strongly fortiWed hill site . . . commanding the small beach, which is the only landfall for miles on a forbidding rocky coastline . . . Sackett found only late Classical material in 1964. These include two narrow skyphos bases with dull black glaze (fourth century bc). The fortiWcation wall, with two towers and other protruding bastions, runs for over 500 m along the southern and eastern sides of the summit, and is preserved in places up to 15 courses and 5.0 m high . . .’’. 276 Ibid. 81–2; see Thuc. 3.33, Strab. 10.1.7. 277 Sackett et al. (1966), 38–9: ‘‘. . . a small headland facing north to the Oreoi channel, above 30 m above the sea with a sandy beach on either side. The headland has a good view of the entrance to the Gulf of Volos, to Oreoi, and west to



Likhas Kastri (ancient Dion?) (no. 2),278 Yialtra Kastelli (ancient Athenae Diades?) (no. 3),279 Orobiae (no. 19),280 Atalante,281 Politika (ancient Aigai?) (no. 26),282 Chalcis,283 Eretria,284 and Amarynthos.285 East of Amarynthos a ship would enter the line of sight of the fortress at Rhamnous, but additional fort sites may be located at Aliveri-Mylaki (ancient Porthmos?) (no. 65),286 Nea Styra (no. 88),287 and Marmari (no. 90).288 Whether acting as shelters for shipping, forts (æ æØÆ) against pirates and other enemies,289 or stations (›æ æØÆ) and border bases (KØ Ø Æ Æ) against non-Athenians on Euboea (or adjacent

Phthiotis; . . . a fair-sized Classical site; . . . certain Classical pottery, slag, and crucible fragments; . . . An ancient wall crosses the headland between the beaches and there are traces of walls on the top of the site.’’ 278 Ibid. 37: ‘‘. . . a low hill about 60 m above the sea, and about 30 m by 20 m in area at the top. On the lower slopes are Classical to Roman, higher up are Early Helladic to Geometric sherds fairly widely scattered; . . . Its size and position suggest an important settlement fairly continuously inhabited from Early Helladic onwards.’’ 279 Ibid. 37–8: ‘‘A Wne natural acropolis rises sharply from a narrow valley and slopes gradually from the shore, with traces of a winding road from the beach to the top of the site. There are remains of walls and buildings and the whole area is thickly scattered with sherds from Neolithic to Roman’’. 280 Ibid. 46–7: ‘‘The site is a long hill about 50 m high and wide and about 300 m long, at right angles to the shore . . . Classical sherds, lamp fragments, painted plaster, and tiles are scattered on the top of the hill . . .’’. 281 See p. 131 above. 282 Sackett et al. (1966), 53: ‘‘A low mound c. 200 m in from the sea; . . . Classical and later material, including a number of inscribed tombstones; . . . The sherd scatter continues in the adjacent Welds for over 50 m . . .’’. 283 See Bakhuizen (1985), passim. 284 See Sackett et al. (1966), 62–3; Sapouna-Sakellaraki (1995). 285 Sackett et al. (1966), 65 and n. 92. 286 Ibid. 69: ‘‘Many Classical, Hellenistic, and Roman Wnds . . . lekythoi, rhytons, lamps, Wgurines, loom-weights, glass bottles . . .’’; IG XII.9.90–123, 190. 287 Sackett et al. (1966), 78–9: ‘‘. . . a small hill with good anchorage; . . . remains of a harbor mole; . . . the sherds and tiles so far discovered on the slopes are of Classical date. To the south and east of the hill three areas have been noted by Hankey as having similar remains, with glazed tiles and Classical sherds. At 3 which is a higher ridge, there are also the remains of a Classical-Hellenistic building c. 9 m square with masonry preserved three courses high in a style like that at Platanistos, and at 5 also traces of walling. These may have formed part of the harbor town for the cipollino quarries on the hill of Ayios Nikolaos above Styra.’’ 288 See ibid. 80. 289 See Thuc. 2.32, 3.89.

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territories),290 these sites will have been the bases for the enormous Athenian naval power (probably dozens of triremes) mentioned by Thucydides as guarding Euboea during the Peloponnesian War.291 This force will have been occasionally supplemented by special missions, like the thirty ships sent to ravage Locris and protect Euboea in 431.292 But the creation of permanent facilities, like those described at Atalante or evident from the massive amount of surface remains at Ayios Vasileios, indicates constant garrisoning. This fact lends support to Thucydides’ testimony that the Athenians had 16,000 men in the reserves in 431. He divides these men into two groups: those in the forts, which were hardly all in Attica, and those on the battlements (i.e. in Athens itself).293 It was precisely as its own base to counter the Athenian phrouria guarding Euboea that in 426 Sparta took the radical step of sending out a colony to Heracleia in Trachis, an event which (as Hornblower shows) Thucydides treats with special emphasis and with signiWcant narrative parallels to his description of Decelea.294 Besides helping the Dorians and Trachinians:

290 See Dem. 19.219, 326; 18.71; 8.36 (respectively) for the use of these terms in connection with Euboea. 291 See Thuc. 3.17: the Athenian Xeet at its height consisted of ‘‘a hundred ships which guarded Attica, Euboea, and Salamis, and another hundred which were cruising oV Peloponnesus, not including the ships employed in blockading Potidaea and at other places; so that in one and the same summer their Xeet numbered two hundred and Wfty’’. Steup’s criticism of this passage as a late interpolation is rightly rejected by Gomme (HCT II, 272–7) and Hornblower (2002), 400–1. The number of ships was drastically reduced by 411: on the revolt of the island from Athens, Thucydides (8.95) says that the number of ships sent to Euboea, added to the number already there, totalled thirty-six (see also Thuc. 8.74, 86). 292 Thuc. 2.26. 293 Thuc. 2.14: æÆØ b s o ø KŁæı  ÆP f, ›º Æ b æØغ ı ŒÆd ıæ ı r ÆØ ¼ ı H K E æ ıæ Ø ŒÆd H Ææ ƺØ ,ÆŒØغ ø ŒÆd ıæ ø . On this passage, see HCT II, 34–9; ACT I, 255–7. Ober (1985), 193 n. 7, rightly takes Thucydides to refer to forts both inside and outside of Attica. Attempts to explain away the manpower Wgures (e.g. Beloch’s (1886), 66, emendation of 16,000 to 6,000 reservists), like the numbers of ships above (n. 291), fail to grapple with the sheer defensiveness of Periclean strategy as far as Euboea was concerned: Athenian interests in the island meant that the revolt of 446 could not be allowed to happen again. 294 ACT I, 501.



. . . they also thought that the situation of the new city would be convenient for carrying on the war against the Athenians: there a navy could be equipped if they wanted to attack Euboea, which was quite near, and the station would be handy for the conveyance of troops to Chalcidice.295

But defending the colony from its own neighbours proved more trouble than the Spartans had foreseen, and their plans to use Heracleia against Euboea were not successful. Nevertheless, the foundation can certainly be seen as an important precursor to Sparta’s role in aiding Euboea’s defection from Athens in 411. This was the crucial Wrst attempt by the non-naval power actually to deprive Athens of its overseas grain-supply. Athenian forts not only ringed Euboea, but also were probably coordinated with other forts controlling its interior. Thucydides mentions one of these inland forts as the shelter for the Athenian crews defeated at Eretria in 411. It must have been not far from the coast: Those of them who took refuge in the city of Eretria, relying on the friendship of the inhabitants, fared worst, for they were butchered by them; but such as gained the fortiWed position which the Athenians held in Eretrian territory escaped, and also the crews of the vessels which reached Chalcis.296

Even after the Euboean revolt, this fort continued in Athenian hands, subsisting Wnancially from sums it managed to raise from the territory of Eretria, but reported to Athens as a loan (I  ºª Æ) due to the goddess.297 These testimonies of a fort in Eretria are considerably supplemented by two inland forts that have actually been excavated and studied. 295 Thuc. 3.92; see also Thuc. 3.93: ‘‘While the new colonists were collecting at Heraclea, the Athenians grew alarmed; the scheme appeared to be aimed at Euboea, for Cape Cenaeum on the opposite coast is within a short sail’’ (Jowett). 296 Thuc. 8.95. The idea that this fortiWcation may date from as late as 413 or 412– 11, put forward by Brunt (1966), 88, is unconvincing. The sorry state of Athenian Wnances after the Syracusan disaster meant that Athenian plans (mentioned by Thuc. 8.1) to ensure the obedience of Euboea above all their other allies never amounted to any major reinforcements: see n. 291. The fort was clearly not in the asty of Eretria, as shown by Steup (see HCT V, 319–20). Cf. ATL III, 295 and n. 100. 297 GHI 84, ll. 16–18 (3,740 dr., 1.25 obols on the sixth prytany of 410/9 to the general Eukleides at Eretria). See GHI, 259, ATL III, 365, and HCT V, 319–20.

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These are Vrachos and Ano Potamia, the former in the territory of Chalcis, the latter in that of Eretria. On Vrachos (near Phylla on Map 2), fortiWcation walls and two buildings have been dated to the late-sixth to early-Wfth centuries from pottery evidence, and Coulton reconstructs its Building 3, a large (112-m-long) row of twenty identical rooms, as an army barrack capable of housing around 200 men.298 We have already seen that the position of this fort, suitable only to observing movement from Chalcis over the Lelantine plain, Wts well into the context of the Athenian cleruchy at Chalcis in 506.299 The pottery from this fort is, as we have also seen, particularly valuable in proving that Athenian cleruchs were never required to garrison their own overseas lands.300 Vrachos heads a list of other (still unexcavated) fort sites on the largest plains on the island, namely that of Histiaea in the north,301 and that of Psachna (at Ayios Ilias (no. 30), Pirgos (no. 31), and Ayia Paraskevi (no. 33)), just north of Chalcis.302 Ano Potamia (no. 81) was excavated by A. Sampson from 1976 to 1978. The fort, on a 267-m-high hill overlooking the bay of Kyme, consists of two co-centric walls encompassing an area 298 Coulton in Sapouna-Sakellaraki et al. (2002), 40–3, and generally 111–16. 299 Hdt. 5.77, 6.100; Sapouna-Sakellaraki et al. (2002), 113–15. 300 See pp. 101–2 above. 301 Sackett et al. (1966), 39–40 n. 29 (Classical Wnds): ‘‘The mound is about 30 m high and about 100 m by 135 m along the sides. It is ringed by a fortiWcation, Byzantine and later, using Classical blocks (relaid in mortar) as a base. On the south side are remains of two rectangular towers, the better preserved about 4.0 m high, jutting 4.5 m from the wall . . . The size and position of Oreoi and its range of remains . . . point to a large settlement from early times.’’ 302 Ibid. 54–6 n. 61: Ay. Ilias, ‘‘. . . the most prominent hill in the low-lying plain of Psachna; . . . it holds a commanding view over the whole plain to the west and south as far as Politika and Chalcis, and to Mikrikapa, Krases, Steni, and Mt. Dhirfys to the east. The chapel of Ay. Ilias on the summit is partly founded on ancient blocks. These may perhaps be connected with the Ionic temple reported by Bursian. Sherds were found scattered over the entire western and southern slopes of the hill . . . dated Middle Helladic, Late Helladic, Geometric, and Classical. This was a strong and central site of some importance in its area, easily fortiWed at the summit’’; Pirgos: ‘‘. . . a low mound marked by the remains of a medieval tower. Sherds of the Early Helladic, Middle Helladic, Classical, and Medieval periods have been found here scattered widely over the Welds for more than 300 meters to the south and 100 meters to the west’’; Ay. Paraskevi (‘‘Pyrgos ruin’’ ¼ ancient Argura?): ‘‘. . . scattered sherds and tiles of the Geometric(?), Classical, and Hellenistic periods; also traces of ancient walling at the northern limit of the ploughland . . .’’.



c.120 m (east–west) by 80 m (north–south). The upper fortiWcation (Section VI) could be dated to the mid-Wfth century from pottery, especially lekythoi and Wne black glaze.303 Within the fort on its lower western side are two stone-lined cisterns and a metallurgical workshop: the pottery and architectural evidence for these structures presented by the excavator are meagre but fully compatible with a similar mid-Wfth-century date.304 In the territory of Histiaea, Sackett et al. suggest that Athenian cleruchs were responsible for hill fortiWcations located inland at Prokopion/Achmetaga (no. 16)305 and Dhafni Stefaniou (near no. 18).306 The former controls the Cereus, the latter (together with contemporary hill forts at StroWlia (no. 17)307 and Dhafni Kastro (no. 18)308) the Neleus river valley. In the Classical Period, a convenient land-route across the northern third of the island followed the Boudoros to the Neleus, ascended gently to the 300 m Mourties-Misipetri Ridge,309 and descended to the Euboean gulf at Limni (ancient Elymnion or Aigai?310) via contemporary sites at Ayia Kiriaki (near 303 Sampson (1981), 29–31 (for the date see esp. 30 n. 40), Wgs. 54–73, with maps. 304 Ibid. 18–22. From pottery and coin Wnds it is evident that the fort continued in use into the Hellenistic period. 305 Sackett et al. (1966), 45–6: ‘‘A hill site defending the natural route along the Cereus valley, c. 2 km north of the village and immediately west of the road . . . There are traces of walls on the hill and good black glaze sherds, indicating a substantial settlement in the Wfth century: fragments from kylix, olpe, cups and bowls (one ribbed), lekanis, kraters, amphorae, and tiles; also Wfth-century lamps and a thirdcentury acroceraunus.’’ On 26 March 2000, I observed scattered surface fragments of Attic Red Figure from the southern slope of this site, which is almost inaccessible through thick woods and brush. 306 Ibid. 46: ‘‘A fortiWed site . . . on a rock outcrop below the sheer cliV of Misipetri (525 m). The circuit wall can be seen from the top of Misipetri but is hard to trace on the site because of thick scrub. Inside the walls Classical sherds and tiles and remains of buildings were found in 1964.’’ 307 Ibid. 46: ‘‘. . . a fortiWed hill-site c. 1 km west of the village on a ridge which runs south. Classical walls on the east and west sides of this ridge and Early Helladic, Classical, Roman, and Medieval sherds suggest that the site was intermittently used.’’ 308 Ibid. 46 n. 40: ‘‘. . . a low hill (Kastro), where one course of large stones running round the circular crest appears to be the remains of a fortiWcation wall. Other masonry and architectural remains (which have since disappeared) were noted at the road cutting in 1939. One stone, still remaining at the roadside, has the inscription ¯—˜ˇ. Sherds include ?Protogeometric, Geometric, and Classical.’’ 309 Ibid. 51: ‘‘. . . ?Geometric, Archaic, and Classical sherds, similar to those from Dhafni Kastro . . .’’. 310 Ibid. 49. Cf. n. 271 above for an alternative identiWcation of Elymnion.

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no. 22)311 and Limni Kastria (no. 21).312 The survey suggests other cross-island routes further north connecting Orobiae (mod. Rovies) with the plain of Histiaea. One led over a Classical site on the 800 m pass near Galatsadhes over Mt. Telethrion,313 another via the lower (400 m) pass between Mts. Telethrion and Xiron through Palaiokhori.314 Athenian forts in the territory of Histiaea may have been necessary despite the expulsion of the Histiaeans, since (as the fragmentary regulations of the cleruchy show) the Ellopians and the people of Dium were allowed to remain there, and the Locrians opposite were considered to pose a threat.315 In the cleruch-occupied territory of Eretria, a long valley running almost at sea-level connects the Classical fortiWcations at Cape Kyme316 with Aliveri-Mylaki (ancient Porthmos),317 via the Classical hill sites above Ano Potamia (ancient Oichalia or Kyme/Komi?),318 Avlonarion (ancient Oichalia or Tamynai?) (no. 72),319 and Lambousa. (no. 71).320 When properly excavated and studied, many of these sites will probably prove to be similar to those excavated by Sampson and by Sapouna-Sakellaraki et al. If so, the Athenian phenomenon of fortiWcation for territorial defense, so well-known from fourth-century Attica, will have been pioneered in the Wfth-century cleruchies.321 311 Sackett et al. (1966) 50 n. 51: ‘‘. . . black glaze and tiles . . .’’. 312 Ibid. 49 n. 52: ‘‘. . . glazed tiles and sherds similar to those from Prokopion Kastri. Also loom-weights . . .’’. 313 Ibid. 49: ‘‘. . . indeterminate prehistoric, Classical, and Roman sherds . . .’’. 314 Ibid. 48–9: ‘‘. . . traces of a wall follow the contours of the hill with conglomerate blocks here and there; . . . slopes are strewn with sherds; . . . A few tiles were found on top of the hill; . . . On the east slope lower down are later sherds, Classical to Roman, and remains of walls with blocks in position. . . . The quality and range of Wnds point to a settlement on a fairly large scale from Early Helladic to Late Helladic and again from Classical to Roman.’’ 315 IG I3 41, ll. 101–2; see Erxleben (1975), 90. 316 See n. 273 above. 317 Sackett et al. (1966), p. 69: ‘‘Many Classical, Hellenistic, and Roman Wnds . . .’’. 318 Ibid. 75 and n. 120. See in detail pp. 137–8 above. 319 Ibid. 71–3: Palaiokastri, ‘‘a high and imposing conical hill, with remains of a fourth-century (or Hellenistic) fortiWcation much destroyed and in most places little more than a raised ridge in the Welds. The towers reported in 1902 are no longer to be seen’’; Itea (fourth-century temple of Apollo at Tamynai?); see also Sampson (1981), 52–3. 320 Sackett et al. (1966), 71. 321 Sapouna-Sakellaraki et al. (2002), 114. Cf. Ober (1985), 195: ‘‘It was only after the [Peloponnesian] war that new economic and military conditions and the growth



Of course, some of these sites will also turn out not to have been just forts (or even forts at all), but either variants of fortiWed hill-towns like Dystos, whose exceptionally well-preserved enceinte and buildings date to the Wfth century,322 or individual farmsteads like those near Sunium, studied by Young.323 In any case, the number, preliminary dating, and character of even a fraction of these sites join our other evidence in making clear that Athenian protection and exploitation of Euboean grain was a phenomenon long pre-dating the Peloponnesian War.

V. CONCLU SION This chapter has presented evidence for the importance of Wfthcentury Euboea in supplying Athens with grain. We have stressed the role of wealthy and mobile Athenian cleruchs in this phenomenon, and moved to the purely physical mechanisms that gave Athens control of the island and its agricultural resources. We have seen that all aspects of the cleruchic system that provided grain for Athens, from its foundation, to its taxation, to its protection, were addressed by Athenian law and ranked as vital interests of the Athenian state.324 The Grain-Tax of 374/3 now provides a valuable fourth-century parallel. For although Euboea was the granary of the Athenian Empire after 446, its history as such cannot be divorced from Lemnos, Imbros, or Scyros, or indeed from that of earlier cleruchies. The history of the Athenian cleruchy begins with Salamis in the time of Solon,325 but the origin of the great overseas Athenian land-holder is really to be found in the north Aegean, beginning with Phrynon at Sigeion c.600.326 In this tradition Wts the Peisistratid control of of the defensive mentality favored the development of a strategy of preclusive defense based on a system of border fortiWcations’’. 322 See Wiegand (1899), 458–67. 323 Young (1956), 141–2; cf. Osborne (1985), 31–4. 324 Contrast Garnsey (1988), 132: ‘‘The people received their share of the revenues of empire in the form of cash, not grain’’. 325 See Andrewes (1982a), 372–3. 326 See ibid. 373–4.

The Fruits of Empire


Sigeion and Lampsacus, and Wnally Philaid control of the Thracian Chersonesus, Lemnos, and Imbros.327 The ultimate purpose of these projects was not to settle or to feed the Athenian poor. It was instead to provide the abundant lands and resources for an Athenian elite. It was also to enable these aristocrats to continue to live (and indeed to rule) as princes over serf-like populations of Thracians or Pelasgians or the like—a luxury denied to them over Athenian citizens after the Solonian reforms. Most important, however, is the fact that for these men a desire for overseas resources was far from the wish to sever ties with their city. Political life and competition with their peers in a common arena (at Athens) was still the focus of their ambitions and their desire for wealth. The result was that peculiar Athenian form of overseas colonization, in which colonies never became autonomous, but were perceived and treated as parts of an overseas Attic territory (æÆ).328 Along with the Cleisthenic reforms, the Athenians approached this colonizing program on democratic but equally aggressive terms: to Salamis were added the lands of the Chalcidian Hippobotai in 506. The process may have acquired a democratic veneer—all Athenians were now equals and companions in the project—but the desire to raid and reap the fruits of overseas lands remained essentially the same. In fact, the new democracy drank so deeply and so early from this sort of exploitation that it became second nature. DiYcult as it is not to admire the Athenians’ eVort against Persia, especially in 490, it must be remembered that, just as freedom burned brightest in their hearts, they followed Miltiades to enslave their fellow Greeks at Paros. He ‘‘promised to enrich them if they would accompany him’’.329 But when Miltiades failed, he was impeached before the demos. The prosecutor was Xanthippus, the father of Pericles, and the proposed penalty was death. It was only by pleading his services 327 See Andrewes (1982b), 403–5. 328 See Ehrenberg (1946), 142–3; the passage most clearly illustrating this perception is Hdt. 6.139–40; more on this in Chapter 5, pp. 304–6. 329 Hdt. 6.132. The passage signiWcantly echoes Aristagoras’ promise to Artaphernes to help him win the Cyclades and eventually Euboea: Hdt. 5.31; see further Ehrenberg (1946), 137–42; Byron, Don Juan, canto III.86 (The Isles of Greece 12): ‘‘The tyrant of the Chersonese / Was freedom’s best and bravest friend / That tyrant was Miltiades! / Oh! that the present hour would lend / Another despot of the kind! / Such chains as his were sure to bind.’’



at Marathon and his conquest of Lemnos that Miltiades was Wned Wfty talents and allowed to die from his own wound.330 The rapacious ethos of the aristocratic buccaneer was, however, now Wrmly enshrined in Athenian democratic politics.331 Miltiades dead, his son Cimon tried his hand after 479. Following Wrmly in the footsteps of the Philaids he not only re-established Athenian control in the north Aegean, but also took Scyros in 476/ 5 and gave it to the demos to colonize. Claiming to have cleared the pirates’ nest on that island, Cimon resembled Thucydides’ Minos, who had done the same—and like Minos he had made the sea safe ‘‘so that its revenues would increasingly converge on him’’ ( F a æ  ı Aºº N ÆØ ÆP fiH).332 The analogy runs even deeper, for Minos: . . . having expelled the pirates when he colonized the greater part of the islands ( ƒ ªaæ KŒ H ø ŒÆŒ Fæª Ø I  Æ ! ÆP F, ‹ æ ŒÆd a  ººa ÆP H ŒÆ fiŒØ"), the dwellers on the sea-coast began to grow richer and to live in a more settled manner; and some of them, Wnding their wealth increase beyond their expectations, surrounded their towns with walls. The love of gain (Œæ ) made the weaker willing to serve the stronger, and the command of wealth (æØ ı Æ) enabled the more powerful to subjugate lesser cities.333

How easy it is to confuse the mythical Minoan with the Wfth-century Athenian empire of revenues and colonies. There could be no mirror more explicit of the Athenian empire as Thucydides knew it, a system that von Reden has characterized as ‘‘the application of local policies of power and patronage on a large scale’’.334 And so, Pericles and Tolmides followed Cimon (and Minos), taking Athenian cleruchs to all corners of the Aegean.335 And Alcibiades, fresh from taking a mere 500 cleruchs to Melos, quickly moved in 415 to the next and far more grandiose level—the conquest and colonization of Sicily.336 Why not? 330 Hdt. 6.135–6. 331 Cf. Humphreys (1978), 167–8; Murray (1993), 50–1. 332 Thuc. 1.4; 1.98; Plut. Cim. 8; Kallet (2001), 25–6. 333 Thuc. 1.8 (Jowett trans.); Minos’ colonization ‘‘of most of the Cyclades’’ appears in Thuc. 1.4; cf. [Xen.] Ath. Pol. 2. 334 von Reden (1995), 129. 335 See n. 91 above with Plut. Per. 11; note also the contiguous placement of the statue of Pericles and Phidias’ Athena Lemnia on the acropolis (Paus. 1.28.2). 336 Melos and Alcibiades: Thuc. 5.84, 116 with Meiggs (1972), 345; on Sicily, see Kallet (2001), 25 n. 18 (who follows Avery (1973), 8–13), stressing Thucydides’

The Fruits of Empire


By the time of the Peloponnesian War, the chain of Athenian cleruchies stretched from Pontic Amisus (renamed Piraeus!), near Colchis, to Piraeus. Along the way lay Sinope, Astacus, the Thracian Chersonesus, Lemnos, Imbros, Scyros, and Euboea.337 This was not yet a grain-route to Crimea, but itself the grain-source of Athens: an empire of cleruchies with Euboea as its crown jewel. The Athenians who went as cleruchs to these places were either wealthy land-holders, or (as probably at Brea) were allotted the lands that made them wealthy land-holders. In the latter case the system was indeed democratic. What is important is that the interests of all Athenian cleruchs either were or became those of an elite. And so their duties. As Agyrrhius’ Grain-Tax shows, the Athenian demos could expect to be supplied by men receiving great surpluses as settlers on what was technically Athenian public land. We may say that the gradual collapse of the Athenian Empire, beginning in 411 with the loss of all of Euboea except Histiaea, and culminating in 404 at Aigospotamoi, transformed this system only superWcially. The cleruchies on the route to the Black Sea, once lost, had nevertheless given to their old owners deep personal and economic connections to that distant world. The experience of the repatriated cleruch oVered the possibility of building a new system with the same elite at the helm. It should therefore not surprise us, as we will Wnd in the next chapter, that a group of Athenians discovered special aYnities of political outlook, and even artistic taste, with the kings of Panticapaeum. In 404 the Athenian empire was lost, but the shape of the city’s grain-supply experienced, fundamentally, a smooth transition into the fourth century.

presentation of the colonial history of Sicily (Book 6.1–5) in connection with the sending of the cleruchy to Melos: ‘‘Thucydides implicitly presents the expedition to Sicily as a colonizing venture . . .’’. 337 See Theopomp. FGrHist 115 F389–90; Diod. 12.34.4–5; Plut. Per. 19.1–2. Most of these places are archaeologically unknown. The recent work of Isaac on the Thracian Chersonesus (1986), 159–97, is unique in coordinating the history of this important Athenian possession with the meagre archaeological work so far carried out.

4 Ex Ponto: The Athenian Grain Supply and Black Sea Archaeology The history of the Black Sea as a source of grain for Athens has long suVered from overemphasis on literary evidence, and from a comparative inattention to the cultural and economic context provided by archaeology.1 Although scattered literary references can provide a chronological record (starting from the late seventh century) of Greek involvement on the shores of the Black Sea, the Propontis, and both Thracian straits, and speciWcally attribute a measure of such involvement (e.g. at Sigeion and Elaious) to Athens, they also present serious problems. Limited to such texts, and without recourse to archaeology, modern scholarship can either clothe events with a variety of ‘‘implicit’’ motivations (economic, imperialistic, etc.),2 or (conversely) rely on arguments from silence to denude them completely. While the Wrst approach may sometimes seem fanciful, it must be said that its minimalist counterpart, taken most recently with respect to the Athenian grain supply by Garnsey, is the more unsatisfactory for leaving us virtually where we started, i.e. with a set of chronologically ordered, but unexplained and decontextualized, facts.3 1 There are of course exceptions, and I do not mean to sideline the important work of Noonan (1973), Sheglov (1990), and Tsetskhladze (1997a, 1998a). 2 See e.g. Keen (2000), 69–70, who includes references to similar studies. 3 Cf. Garnsey’s single reference to a work of Black Sea archaeology (1988: 124 n. 11), dating from 1971. It is remarkable that the recent archaeological works addressing the Black Sea grain trade since Garnsey’s publication defer to his conclusions in connection with Athens! See Tsetskhladze (1997a), 249, (1998a), 63; Kuznetsov (2000), 110, 111.

K a z a n t i p

Ancient settlement Kurgan Rural settlement, 4th to mid-3rd centuries BC Modern settlement area

Zenonos Chersonesos



G u l f


Map 3. The Cimmerian Bosporus.



It is my aim in this chapter to avoid both of these purely literary approaches, emphasizing instead the relevant archaeological context to the problem of Athenian grain trade in the Black Sea, as well as introducing a much broader array of textual evidence than has so far been done. As we will see, the picture that emerges from the sources so combined is one of extremely close but uneasy coexistence between Greeks and their various barbarian neighbours during the sixth and Wfth centuries, followed by an intense process of mutual integration and economic expansion from the last years of the Peloponnesian War to the end of the fourth century. This second period crucially saw the beginning of a regular and large-scale grain trade to the Mediterranean, and especially to Athens.4 We will see that the key factor in this change was the transformation of a local tyranny at Panticapaeum into a powerful Graeco-Scythian monarchy, and that this largely ideological transformation was in turn chieXy caused and furthered by the political and intellectual elite that controlled the Athenian grain supply. Let us then consider the two periods separately.

I. NORTH ERN BLACK SEA ARISTOCRACIES: SIXTH AND FIFTH CENTURIES bc , TO 43 8 The most striking feature of the Greek colonies in the Black Sea to an Aegean visitor in the Wfth century bc was probably (and ironically) their unremarkable nature. As RostovtzeV once noted, Herodotus shows little interest in these cities, and turns his attention instead to the European steppes from Olbia to the Don, and especially to the Scythians, the only people known to him besides the Athenians and Spartans ever to have thwarted Persian expansion.5 Indeed, the ring of mostly Milesian settlements planted around the shores of the 4 Gernet (1909), 314–19, and Knorringa (1926), 77–8, had already correctly cast doubt on the importance of grain imports to Athens from the Black Sea before the fourth century. To Garnsey, on the other hand, it is clear that even the fourth-century imports were unimportant as regular amounts (1988), 97. 5 RostovtzeV (1931), 20; Herodotus’ visit is dated to 455–44 and the composition of the Scythian logos, c.450–25 (see Alekseyev (2005), 43); see also Hartog (1988), 36.

Ex Ponto


Black Sea from the early sixth century would not have provided either new or very interesting material for Herodotus.6 Not new because Hecataeus, who also had Wrst-hand knowledge of the region, had probably already written of their geography and distinctive features.7 Not very interesting because a strong degree of traditionalism and attachment to the ways of Old Ionia was prevalent in these cities. We get this impression not only from a fourth-century letter written in what seems to be the current Bosporan vernacular, an archaic form of Ionian,8 but also from a wider range of evidence from onomastics, cult, and architecture, fascinating to us, but unremarkable to anyone who already knew Ionian Greece.9 Given enough time, unremarkable traditionalism could of course become remarkable. We see this in the Wrst-century ad account by Dio Chrysostom on the (literally) Homeric backwardness he witnessed during his visit to Olbia. Here the Stoic philosopher shows clear delight in describing a city where Achilles was a god and Homer almost so, and where all the councilmen ‘‘were like the ancient Greeks described by Homer, long haired and with Xowing beards, and only one among them was shaven, and he was subjected to the ridicule and resentment of all’’.10 But far more signiWcantly, the horseman Callistratus, a young Olbian aristocrat, despite ‘‘having much of the Ionian in his appearance’’, is described as armed and dressed in Scythian costume.11 That very contradiction, reXected wherever else in Olbia Dio looked,12 expresses perfectly the capacity of the Black Sea Greek colonists to reconcile great change with an idealized and evolving sense of their own cultural tradition. We note this at the outset, because this single fact is crucial for understanding the cultural identity reXected in all Bosporan archaeological evidence, whether it comes from art, architecture, coins, 6 For their more widely accepted foundation dates see Boardman (1999), 245–55. 7 See RostovtzeV (1931), 19–21. 8 Vinogradov (1997a), 234, 244. 9 See Graf (1974), 209–15 and e.g. n. 44 below on Molpagoras (onomastics); Burkert (1990), 155–60 (religion); Rusyaeva (1994), 80–102 (Olbian terracotta mouldings copy exactly those at Miletus). 10 Dio Chrys. Or. 36.9, 14, 17 (Borysthenitica) (Loeb trans.). 11 ibid., chs. 7, 8: . . .  ºf ø ø ØŒe F Y ı. 12 See e.g. ch. 9, where the corrupt Greek dialect of the Olbians is juxtaposed with their ability to recite the Iliad by heart.



inscriptions, or graves. Especially in the fourth century, traditionalism in the Bosporan cities is reXected in the pursuit of a selfconsciously Homeric and Ionian ideal, though never without a strong admixture of Scythian inXuence. We shall constantly return to this, especially in order to show that the exacerbation of this tendency in the fourth century, and indeed its transformation into a distinctive style, is directly linked to contact with Athenian trade and intellectual life. For now, it is enough to say that a distinctly felt sense of traditionalism, a strong Ionian conservatism, already existed in the Black Sea colonies of Herodotus’ time and, if anything, further encouraged him to overlook these Greeks for the Scythians. Herodotus’ view of the Scythians, in marked contrast to that of later ancient historians (beginning with Ephorus), is pragmatic and unromantic.13 The one feature that roused his admiration for them, elevating them above all other men in wisdom, was the means whereby they defeated Darius: a mobility that made them unconquerable and unassailable (¼Æ Ø  ŒÆd ¼ æ Ø æ  ªØ ).14 The rest of their customs sparked Herodotus’ interest, but (as he explicitly says) not his admiration.15 One of these features they shared with the Egyptians, namely their intense dislike of foreign customs, especially those of the Greeks—he vividly proceeds to demonstrate this with the stories of Anacharsis and Scyles, members of the Scythian royal family who had been killed by their relatives for their attachment to foreign customs and intercourse with Greeks.16 Unbelievable elaborations of these tales of Scythian princes who became Greek aristocrats were already current in Herodotus’ time, as he shows with an example from the Peloponnese.17 As we shall see, this process of elaboration was literally to develop into an industry in 13 On Ephorus, see pp. 194 V. below. The structure of Herodotus’ narrative as a juxtaposition of ‘‘them’’ (i.e. Scythian) and ‘‘us’’ (i.e. Greek), as Hartog insists (1988: 369), is far from idealizing. This ‘‘mirror’’, which Hartog restricts to Herodotus, I see reXected in a wide range of contemporary evidence from the Black Sea. 14 Hdt. 4.46. 15 Ibid. 16 Hdt. 4.76; Anacharsis: Hdt. 4.76–7 (Herodotus believes only that he travelled widely and showed many proofs of his wisdom); cf. below n. 17. Scyles: Hdt. 4.78–80 with Hartog (1988), 61–84; see also below, p. 153. For the Egyptians, see Hdt. 2.91: On Anacharsis, see Kindstrand (1981), passim. 17 Hdt. 4.77.

Ex Ponto


Athenian hands during the fourth century, with enormous cultural and economic repercussions, and was in fact to be continued in modern Europe (most famously by the abbe´ Barthe´lemy) in exemplifying the idealized voyage de formation.18 What is important to note at this point is that, if Herodotus encountered a sense of traditionalism in the Greek colonies, the same sense seemed to exist among the Scythians. Indeed, these were aspects of the same ideological phenomenon, no doubt well reXected in the city wall that separated the Bacchic Scyles from his Scythian troops in Herodotus’ story. However, both Herodotus and a mass of archaeological evidence also show how thoroughly reality diverged from this ideal. Herodotus himself mentions the Callipidai, ‘‘a Graeco-Scythian people’’, who live just inland from Olbia,19 as well as the Gelonoi, who were ‘‘originally Greeks’’. The latter had moved from their trading stations on the coast, built a large polis called Gelonus with (entirely wooden) Greek temples in the territory of the nomadic Budini, and become in language ‘‘half Greek, half Scythian’’.20 Archaeological evidence from the vicinity of Olbia of material culture that would correspond to that of the Callipidai (‘‘populations barbares he´teroge`nes—rurales et urbaines—tre`s helle´nise´es’’) is well documented and dated after the foundation of the colony.21 Great controversy still exists among Russian archaeologists on the location of Gelonus, and whether it is to be identiWed with the enormous fortiWed settlement (gorodishe) at Bel’sk encompassed by a circuit of walls 36 km (!) in length, and located very far north from the coast, inside the wooded steppe, on the river Vorskla, a tributary of the Dnieper near Poltava.22 Although 18 Jean Jacques Barthe´lemy (1788); cf. Charles Malo (1822–3). 19 Hdt. 4.17. 20 Hdt. 4.108, 109. 21 Sheglov (1990), 146, with references to K. K. Marchenko; cf. Bylkova (2005), 131–47, demonstrating how diYcult it is ‘‘Wrmly to identify Scythian sites’’. 22 The main proposer of this identiWcation is B. A. Shramko of the University of Kharkov. For a summary of the debate, see Melyukova (1989), 47–8, and for a summary of the Wnds, 75; in English, see Rolle (1989), 117–19; Murzin (2005), 36–7: ‘‘. . . a whole nomadic ‘city’ could have been established on the extensive open ground within . . . with thousands upon thousands of yurts and covered wagons. Supplying the everyday needs of its population was the task of the merchants, craftsmen and farmers, whose houses and workshops have been clearly recorded . . .’’.



it might take further decades of excavation to resolve this problem, there is already enough evidence on and near Bel’sk to conclude that a large and heterogeneous settled population existed there from the sixth to the third centuries bc. A similarly complex cultural situation surfaces from the Wfthcentury Bosporan necropoleis. RostovtzeV usefully speaks of the wealthier graves of Panticapaeum and its neighbouring colonies as reXecting a more or less uniform ‘‘pala¨strische Charakter’’, namely the inclusion (in male graves) of sets of small vases (e.g. lekythoi, aryballoi, and alabastra) and strigils.23 This is the type of traditionalism that we are entitled to expect from any funerary context, but the occasional inclusion of a variety of types of weapons (e.g. daggers, arrow or lance tips) gives serious grounds against accepting RostovtzeV’s labels for the ‘‘purely’’ (rein) Greek or Scythian.24 In fact, Gajdukevich admits that the diYcult task of ethnically distinguishing the earlier burials in these necropoleis becomes a near impossibility for the following centuries.25 In this connection it is crucial to note that the most thoroughly investigated Bosporan necropolis, namely that of Nymphaeum, recently led Grach, its excavator, to withhold judgement on the ethnicity of its occupants of the sixth and Wfth centuries.26 Although this ethnic complexity has long been considered a particularity of Nymphaeum27—and still is, for good reasons that we will discuss28—it is in great part due to the fact that it is the wealthiest Wfth-century Bosporan necropolis. This necropolis Wts well into a context of strong cultural integration throughout the entire region. Looking at the Nymphaeum graves, one can see how a mid-sixth-century male inhumation (A59) containing a small Ionian ring-shaped askos and an Attic amphoriskos can easily lie some 15 metres away from a roughly contemporary inhumation of 23 RostovtzeV (1931), 180; cf. RostovtzeV (1922), 74. 24 Cf. RostovtzeV ’s remark (1931), 177–8 n. 2, that weapon burials indicate Scythian ethnicity. 25 Gajdukevich (1971), 262: ‘‘In den ersten Jahrhunderten ist es noch mo¨glich, zwischen griechischen und nichtgriechischen Bestattungen Unterschiede festzustellen, die sich jedoch mit fortschreitender kultureller Assimilation soweit verwischen, daß in spa¨thellenistischer und besonders in ro¨mischer Zeit eine Abgrenzung fast unmo¨glich wird’’. 26 Grach (1999), 30–1. 27 See RostovtzeV (1931), 230. 28 See p. 160 below.

Ex Ponto


another male (A60), similar in age to the Wrst, but this time accompanied by a traditional Iranian short sword (IŒØ Œ ) and the fragment of a plate with an incised meander pattern.29 Such an impression of assimilation is powerfully intensiWed as the necropolis of Nymphaeum becomes noticeably wealthier from the middle to the end of the Wfth century. We can turn as representative examples to six separate grave inventories of this period, which were excavated haphazardly in 1868 and are now at Oxford.30 Whereas the earlier Nymphaeum graves are simple pit burials with a few funeral items, the inventories that we have here were recovered from wooden sarcophagi (none of which survives but at least two of which the Wnder described as decorated, e.g. by a moulding) that were in turn deposited in graves and covered by kurgans. A helmet and twenty-three arrows belong to one of two buried males, and directly over his grave were buried the skeletons of a dog and a horse.31 The second man had an electrum torque, fragments of scale armour, bronze greaves, a sword (probably), a bronze ladle, three (probably Attic) black-glazed cups, and a bronze plaque of an elk’s head in the Scythian animal-style.32 A total of Wve women (one of them buried with the Wrst man) were accompanied by a wealth of objects including gold, electrum, and silver jewellery (in the form of bracelets, necklaces, earrings, rings, and Wgured applique´s), textiles (perhaps Wne-wool (Milesian?) according to lab analyses), small Attic black-glazed and red-Wgure pots, two bronze mirrors, a bronze strainer, a chalcedony engraved scaraboid, and a small silver cup.33 Vickers assumes that these graves belong to wealthy and hellenized Scythians who happen to be buried in a Greek necropolis.34 The reality, as we have seen, is much more complex. Scythian activity on 29 Grach (1999), 47–9, 185, 205–6. 30 Vickers (1979), 7–12, (2002), 5–13. The inventories were confused and badly described in the original documentation, and incomplete by the time they reached Oxford in 1880, so that Vickers had to carry out a thorough (and sometimes hypothetical) recataloguing. For another six Nymphaeum elite burials of the Wfth century with similar inventories, see Silant’eva (1959), 5–107. 31 Vickers (1979), 9, (2002), 7–8. 32 Vickers (1979), 10–11, 45, (2002), 9–10, 42–9. 33 See Vickers (1979), 34–48, (2002), 14–55. 34 Vickers (1979), 11–12, (2002), 10–11; see also Vinogradov (2001), passim, for the same assumption.



both sides of the Kerch straits certainly pre-dated Greek colonization in the sense of permanent, agricultural settlements.35 For example, a South Ionian Middle I Wild Goat oinochoe from the kurgan at Temir Gora some 10 km northeast of Panticapaeum dates from the 640s bc, at least half a century before the earliest pottery discovered on the site of the Greek colony.36 It belongs to an early phase of Greek penetration of the Black Sea, beginning in the last half or last third of the seventh century, during which Greek emporia at Histria, Berezan, and Taganrog used their location at the mouths of major rivers (the Danube, Bug and Dnieper, and Don respectively), to serve as distribution centres of Greek pottery.37 A similar funerary complex with a rich store of weapons and imported Greek pottery exists across the straits on the Taman peninsula at Tsukur Liman and dates to shortly after the arrival of the Wrst Greek settlers, namely to the second quarter or middle of the sixth century.38 The Scythian attraction to this area, as Herodotus suggests, was its location on the easiest crossing between Crimea and Taman.39 From this point of view, therefore, the earliest Greek permanent settlers of the Wrst half of the sixth century were newcomers to an ongoing exploitation of the region’s geographical and ecological potential. The intensiWcation of kurgan burials during the last half of the Wfth century around Panticapaeum, Phanagoria, Kepoi, Hermonassa, and (particularly) Nymphaeum40 should therefore be seen not as a recent Scythian arrival to the outskirts of these cities, but as the vigorous manifestation of a Graeco-Scythian culture by then more than a hundred years in the making. We have so far focused on the archaeological material from the Bosporus, and particularly from its necropoleis, but an interesting 35 Vinogradov (2001), 78. See also Marchenko and Vinogradov (1989), 808–13, on the chronology. 36 Vinogradov (2001), 78. Vinogradov believes that the vase came from the already existing settlement at Berezan. On the vase classiWcation and chronology, see Cook and Dupont (1998), 36–9. 37 Boardman (1999), 249 (Histria); Solovyov (1999), 29 (Berezan); Larenok and Dally (2002), 86–91 (Taganrog); see generally Tsetskhladze (1998c). 38 Vinogradov (2001), 78. 39 Hdt. 4.28; cf. Maslennikov (2005), 154–6, 159–60 (who notes the presence but not the interaction). 40 See Vinogradov (2001), 80–4.

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urban Wnd from Olbia points in the same direction. Built into the wall in the Classical gymnasium near the city’s agora was found a niche (re-)displaying the upper torso of a long-haired and clothed limestone kouros, apparently a local work of the Wfth century.41 The display of such a statue in a gymnasium demonstrates a remarkable interaction of Scythian custom with traditional Greek life, at least at elite levels. We recall that King Scyles, whose parents were the Scythian king Ariapeithes and a Greek woman from Histria, himself took a Greek wife and built an enormous house in Olbia decorated with sphinxes and griYns.42 Here he visited periodically, and having left his army outside the walls, changed from Scythian to Greek clothes, and ‘‘lived in the Greek way in every other respect, and made sacriWces to the gods according to Greek custom’’.43 If it was possible for a Scythian king to live this double life (or at least for Herodotus to hear, and by all indications believe, this story told in the Olbia of his day), we have good grounds to believe that the same was possible for a Greek. It is therefore in this sense that we should resolve the long and Werce debate over another famous Olbian Wfthcentury monument: the two-faced, marble funerary stele of Leoxos, son of a very aristocratically named Molpagoras. This remarkable monument shows a vigorous naked youth on one side, and a Scythian (or Amazon) on the other.44 Keeping in mind that conXict is almost always a concomitant feature (and not the opposite) of coexistence, let us now turn to see how crucial it also is for understanding the cultural situation in the northern Black Sea during this period. We can already see one kind of conXict, on an ideological plane, in Herodotus’ comments on Scythian xenophobia, not to mention in an implicit ‘‘Old Ionian’’ Greek counterpart. But the archaeological evidence allows us to consider more physical manifestations of conXict. In an inXuential article, Jurij G. Vinogradov interpreted the uniform presence of late sixth-century destruction levels and signs of abandonment at various settlements on the Ukrainian forest steppe 41 Levi (1984), 37, 109, pl. XI.7 (photo). 42 Hdt. 4.78–9. 43 Hdt. 4.78. 44 Sokolov (1974), 24–5 (illustration and general description); Vinogradov (1997b), 230–6, summarizes the controversy and reaches a very diVerent conclusion from mine (see p. 159 below). For Molpagoras’ name, see ibid. 239.



as the Wrst phase of an aggressive Scythian expansion after their defeat of Darius I’s invasion force.45 Shortly thereafter, during the Wrst third of the Wfth century, he notes the disappearance of virtually all the Olbian rural settlements that had been established over a very wide area along the Dnieper, Bug, and Berezan limans during the second half of the sixth century.46 Vinogradov counted more than ninety of these settlements before the end of the sixth century, and only one (which happened to be located in the immediate vicinity of Olbia) left by the 470s and 460s.47 Archaeological Wnds from Taganrog near the Don delta show a similar chronology: the emporium there was abandoned or destroyed in the late sixth century, and no major settlement was to be re-established in the area until the fourth century.48 After Olbia, similar evidence shows Scythian tribes moving south along the west coast of the Black Sea (where Histria, for example, has a destruction level dated to 500), all the way through Thrace to the Mediterranean.49 There, we Wnd Miltiades Xeeing the Thracian Chersonesus in 495 before a Scythian incursion, ‘‘for these nomads, having been angered by King Darius, came together and marched as far as this Chersonesus’’.50 At Olbia, Vinogradov saw this archaeological evidence as reXecting the creation of a ‘‘Scythian protectorate’’ (though he of course, correctly, never assumes either an articulated policy of conquest or a uniWed ‘‘Scythian state’’51). Herodotus’ mention of the ‘‘administrator’’ (K æ  ) of King Ariapeithes as one of his Olbian sources, and the way Scyles (Ariapeithes’ successor) is said to enter the city, leaving his army just outside the walls (K fiH æ Æ  fiø), certainly 45 Vinogradov (1997c), 107. He accepts the date of Darius’ Scythian expedition as 519: see ibid. 107 n. 44; cf. CAH IV2 for the date as 513 and bibliography on this controversy. 46 Vinogradov (1997c), 108. 47 Ibid. 108 n. 53. The original number of settlements is put at 107 in a more recent study, which conWrms that the territory of Olbia was reduced to an area 5 to 10 km in radius around the urban centre (the number of surviving settlements has now gone up to Wve): Kryzhitskiy and Buiskich (1999), 274–5; see also Kryzhitskiy (1999), 261. 48 Larenok and Dally (2002), 90, with bibliography n. 12; cf. Maslennikov (2005), 157. 49 Vinogradov (1997c), 108–9; see Boardman (1999), 248. 50 Hdt. 4.40. 51 Cf. Murzin (2005), 35.

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support this theory,52 as probably do the minting of Olbian staters with the barbarian name Eminakos during the third quarter of the Wfth century, and perhaps even the undemocratic Olbian decree honouring Timesileus the tyrant of Sinope and his brother.53 It is important to note that the constitutional nature of this protectorate, according to Vinogradov, allowed for simultaneously maintaining Olbia’s minting and political institutions, and thus at least the appearance of autonomy.54 Vinogradov also connected this evidence to a contemporary event with a very diVerent historical outcome: the political uniWcation in 480 of the Bosporan Greek cities under the control of the Archeanactid dynasty. Our only textual source for this event is Diodorus Siculus’ account of the year 438, which tells of the Spartocid succession to that dynasty forty-two years later.55 The idea of Bosporan uniWcation as an urgent countermeasure to Scythian expansion was not new, but Vinogradov was the Wrst to set out a mass of archaeological evidence, albeit mostly Olbian, in its support.56 52 How and Wells (1912) (as Vinogradov notes (1997c), 112 n. 75), had accepted something like this in an interesting note (330 n. ad Hdt. 4.78.3: ‘‘The Scythian king clearly had some authority in Olbia, though not as much as the Leuconidae later (438–304 bc) had in Panticapaeum and Theodosia, where they bore the title of ¼æø ; their heads appear on the coins of Panticapaeum. There is no parallel to this in Olbia.’’ Minns (1913: 458) had concluded, from the evidence available in 1913, that Olbia during this period was ‘‘a typical Greek town, at Wrst prosperous, later on hard pressed by the surrounding tribes, probably more or less tributary to barbarian chieftains, but essentially Greek’’. 53 Vinogradov (1997c), 111–12; see Braund (2005), 83–4 on the context of the decree. 54 Vinogradov (1997c), 111–12; Vinogradov’s theory is still widely accepted, although it has recently come under severe criticism from Kryzhitskiy (2005). 55 Vinogradov (1997c), 109, 114–15, 127–9; Diod. 12.31. On Diodorus’ sources for this, see RostovtzeV (1931), 102. 56 Vinogradov repeatedly acknowledges his debt to Gajdukevich; see Gajdukevich (1971), 50–5. RostovtzeV, in pre-1918 material (the second volume to Skythien und der Bosporus) unknown to Vinogradov until its rediscovery in the 1980s, used a similar explanation to explain Spartocid power (RostovtzeV (1993), 72): ‘‘Die sta¨ndig seitens des Skythenreiches drohende Gefahr war jener Zement, der die griechischen wie auch die nichtgriechischen Elemente des Bosporanischen Reiches an die Staatsmacht band’’. Two things must be noticed in connection with this passage. The Wrst is RostovtzeV ’s acknowledgement of the importance of a non-Greek element in the internal cohesion of the Bosporan state, a crucial caveat to the more confrontational interpretation of Vinogradov (see e.g. Vinogradov (1997c), 114: ‘‘Doch der unmittelbare Katalysator, der die im Schoße des Polislebens am Bosporos heranreifenden



It remained for Tolstikov to assemble the Bosporan archaeological evidence that he believes proves Vinogradov’s thesis of Bosporan uniWcation in 480, and of a simultaneous Scythian threat lasting from the end of the sixth through the Wrst half of the Wfth centuries.57 Tolstikov shows that out of thirteen representative settlements and cities located on both sides of the Kerch straits, seven show signs of Wre and destruction during this period.58 At Nymphaeum, for example, the archaic sanctuary of Demeter was destroyed by Wre; a hoard of seventeen silver Panticapaean coins was buried in the wall of a house;59 and in one of the inhumations (A44) from the necropolis, containing a black-Wgure Attic lekythos, the deceased male was found with a bronze arrowhead on his left shoulder.60 The date of the coins, the destruction level in the sanctuary, the lekythos, and the arrowhead all point to armed conXict at Nymphaeum at the end of the sixth or the beginning of the Wfth centuries.61 Similarly, at Tyritake (about 11 km south of Panticapaeum), we Wnd considerable numbers of Scythian arrows strewn about the base of the exterior walls of a building (at sector XIV) with a Wre destruction level dated by Gajdukevich to 480.62 Crucially, the destroyed buildings in this sector were incorporated into a new defensive wall for the city, and that wall in turn was aligned with a massive earthen rampart (the so-called ‘‘Tyritake wall’’), which stretched for 25 km from Tyritake to the Azov coast.63 Tolstikov Tendenzen in den umgekehrten Prozeß der Konsolidierung verwandelte, war zweifellos die oben beschriebene skythische Expansion’’; and again on 127). Second, it is important to see how Vinogradov (in his later work) criticizes this very passage of RostovtzeV as exaggerated, citing the Scythian role within the Spartocid army and in the internal power politics of the state, which included ruling-class marriage alliances with Greeks: ‘‘All diese Fakten berechtigen voll und ganz von einem traditionellen Bu¨ndnis zwischen den Bosporanen und den Skythen zu sprechen, und nicht von einer permanenten Konfrontation’’ (Vinogradov’s commentary in RostovtzeV (1993), 136 n. 3; emphasis added). We can say, to this extent, that Vinogradov has strongly modiWed his position, accepting an even closer coexistence between Scythians and Greeks than RostovtzeV. 57 Tolstikov (1984), 24 V. 58 Ibid. 30. 59 Ibid. 30, 42 n. 74. 60 Ibid. 42 n. 74 noting Olbian parallels; see Grach (1999), 45, 198. 61 Tolstikov (1984), 30, 42 n. 74; see Grach (1999), 45. 62 Tolstikov (1984), 29 n. 30; see Gajdukevich (1971), 45–7; Vinogradov (1997c), 110. 63 Tolstikov (1984), 29–35, based on his own excavations of a part of the rampart in 1983; according to him the wall was only restored or rebuilt from earlier (pre-colonial)

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concludes that this rampart spelled the diVerence between the harmed and unharmed Bosporan sites: none of the sites within it, Panticapaeum, Myrmecium, and Porthmium, show the usual destruction levels of the period.64 The Wnds from the urban centre of Panticapaeum (on the acropolis at Mt. Mithridates) so far conWrm Tolstikov’s theory. From the sixth through the fourth centuries he detects Wve successive building periods on its western plateau. Beginning from the appearance of the Greek settlement in the Wrst quarter of the sixth century, the Wrst building period is characterized by assemblages of poor pit-dwellings, the socalled dug-outs and semi-dug-outs that are a widespread phenomenon in virtually all early Greek settlements on the Black Sea.65 The second building period (in three phases starting from around 550) marks the real birth of Panticapaeum as a city, with rectangular, stone-socled, multi-roomed houses linked to a discernible street layout; a tholos and large building complex (MK I) on what appears to be the administrative centre of the city; and the minting of coins.66 By the Wrst quarter of the Wfth century, the centre of the city has a distinctly urban character.67 SigniWcantly, the third building period, starting from around 480, marks a clear disruption in this process of urbanization: for the next twenty or twenty-Wve years, there is a return to the more primitive dugout buildings—indeed two of these are found built over the tholos.68 Tolstikov stresses that the earlier buildings disappear not as the result of a Wre or a single catastrophic event, but gradually as the result of foundations. However, Maslennikov’s recent work (2003), 157–89, based on soundings and excavations from 1997 to 2001, argues against a single rampart, claiming instead three diVerent structures of very diVerent dates and historical contexts, none certainly Classical. I do not know how this explosive work has been received, and have continued to adhere in what follows to the orthodox opinion. It may turn out that the ‘‘Tyritake wall’’ will have to be removed entirely from consideration in what follows, although it might be replaced with the Ak-Burun wall, immediately to the west of Panticapaeum, with a terminus post quem of the end of the sixth century bc: see Maslennikov (2003), 189–94. 64 Tolstikov (1984), 30–2. 65 Tolstikov (1992), 59–62; indeed Tolstikov (ibid. 92–3) denies that we can speak of the foundation of a polis as such, and claims that for the Wrst forty to Wfty years of its existence, Panticapaeum was not an urban-type settlement. 66 Tolstikov (1992), 59–71. 67 Ibid. 93. 68 Ibid. 71–8; Tolstikov (2001a), 399–401, 410.



decay or dismantling (perhaps for use in fortiWcations?).69 At the same time (and indeed during the entire Wrst half of the Wfth century) appear signs of intensive metalworking in iron and bronze, including the manufacturing of weapons and armour.70 In the layers of this building period was also found a Panticapaean coin whose silver content shows a signiWcant debasement in comparison to previous issues.71 The last building period of interest for our study of Wfth-century Panticapaeum, begins, according to Tolstikov, around the 460s or 450s and continues for the remainder of the century.72 Its most distinctive feature is the construction of a monumental Ionic temple to Apollo Iatros on the upper plateau of Mt. Mithridates.73 There is also evidently a resumption of normal urbanization on the lower levels of the acropolis (Central Excavations), and the appearance of decorated buildings (including one andron) with mosaic Xoors and plaster walls.74 The mass of the available archaeological evidence we have reviewed therefore seems to point with distinct clarity to a concatenation of military conXict and economic hardship during the Wrst half of the Wfth century as one of the chief reasons for the creation of a uniWed Bosporan state in 480. Tolstikov sees the main task of its rulers, the Archeanactidae, as summoning the massive manpower needed to fortify the Tyritake rampart,75 and to defend the new 69 Tolstikov (1992), 67. 70 Ibid. 74–7. 71 Ibid. 78–9. 72 Ibid. 78–9; cf. Tolstikov (2001a), 405–6 (breakdown into three building phases). 73 Tolstikov (1992), 78. The materials were a combination of limestone (for the main structure of the temple), and marble (for the external decoration); its dimensions are given as 40  14 m (and up to 10 m in height): Tolstikov (1984), 44–5. Only fragments remain (see Tolstikov (1984), pl. 8), and because the location is once again hallowed ground (as the Soviet World War II memorial at Kerch), it appears that it will never be fully excavated. Cf. the dimensions of the Athenian Parthenon at 69.5  30.8 m (OCD, 1117); those of the Hephaisteion by the Athenian agora at 31.8  13.7 m (Wycherley (1978), 69); and those of the Athenian treasury at Delphi at 9.65  6.57 m (Bommelaer and Laroche (1991), 133). The diagrams of the latter (ibid. 134) are on the same scale as that given by Tolstikov for Panticapaeum (1984), 45. 74 Tolstikov (1992), 78–9; Tolstikov (2001a), 406 (for the date). 75 Tolstikov (1984), 35–41: he estimates (37) that just for the reconstruction of the pre-existing earthwork 4,000 builders and navvies would be required for a duration of 450 working days. It is for this reason that he suggests the likelihood that the Sindoi of the Taman peninsula, whom Herodotus (4.28) suggests as victims of Scythian incursions across the ice of the straits, provided crucial aid in the eVort, since the wall would considerably hinder such crossings (ibid. 38–41).

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alliance. Some twenty years after this eVort was undertaken, signs of its success appear in the rebuilding of the city, and the erection of its temple to Apollo. Tolstikov notes that the minting of a new type of Panticapaean coinage, which bears on its reverse the letters `—ˇ¸, is roughly contemporary (second and third quarters of the Wfth century) with the building of this temple.76 The powerful symbolism of temple and coinage in the context of the city’s military victory and economic recovery seems clear. It is signiWcant that Vinogradov interprets the (approximately contemporary) Leoxos stele from Olbia (discussed above) in a similar way: as a monument glorifying the deceased Greek in confrontation with the barbarian.77 We should add that these developments, spearheaded by the Archeanactidae, a dynastic tyranny whose very name harked back to old Milesian aristocracy,78 very probably symbolize the consolidation of a fundamentally traditionalist regime in Panticapaeum from 480 to 432. In this connection, however, we cannot fail to stress the level of cultural integration in the Bosporan cities, as we argued in the earlier part of this section.79 We must notice, for example, that the inside of the same building we saw attacked by arrows and destroyed by Wre around 480 at Tyritake (sector XIV) contained remains of Scythian hand-made pottery.80 Similarly, the fact that the rebuilding of the Tyritake rampart may never have been completed by the Archeanactidae,81 not to mention that it would have been 25 km long and thus probably impossible in any case to be manned as a wall, meant that it was never more than an inconvenient but avoidable military obstacle; one might say the Bosporan version of the Maginot Line.

76 Tolstikov (1984), 46. Gajdukevich (1971), 52, makes the very plausible suggestion that the coinage marks a short-lived attempt to change the name of the city to Apollonia. The name Panticapaeum ‘‘is probably not Greek but Scythian’’ (Sandys (1890), 37). 77 Vinogradov (1997b), 234. 78 See Vinogradov (1997c), 101–2. 79 It is also important to note that neither Vinogradov nor Tolstikov pushes his theory to the extreme of total confrontation between Greek and non-Greek. See e.g. nn. 56 and 75 above. 80 Gajdukevich (1971), 47. 81 Maslennikov (1998), 226; see now n. 63 above.



Perhaps most important of all is the fact that Nymphaeum was certainly not included in the fortiWcation schemes of the young Bosporan state, and seems only to have been annexed politically by Panticapaeum at the very end of the Wfth century.82 Its location on the shores of the Kerch straits, at the last point where the latter could be crossed over the ice in winter, set it on virtually the only land route to the Taman that avoided Panticapaeum and the other Bosporan cities.83 Both Herodotus and the pre-colonial archaeological remains on both sides of the strait areas suggest, as we have seen, that such crossings were a traditional aspect of life on the Crimean steppes.84 It is therefore not fortuitous, as Tolstikov stresses, that the Nymphaeum necropolis of the last two-thirds of the Wfth century gives a better impression than any of its neighbours of strong cultural assimilation between Scythians and Greeks.85 The little that we know about the necropolis of Theodosia presents a particularly valuable and stark comparison. Even though this city is located considerably closer to the central Crimean steppes than any of the other Bosporan cities, its necropolis conspicuously lacks the Scythian inXuences present on the shores of the Kerch straits, particularly at Nymphaeum.86 The straits were the natural point of gravitation, the real melting pot of cultures: whatever political power could most successfully manage the social and political tensions at this epicentre would grow vastly prosperous as a result. Everything suggests that mid-Wfth-century Panticapaeum had escaped becoming a Scythian protectorate, like Olbia and Nymphaeum, and that at the head of a uniWed league of Greek cities it was manifesting this achievement by conspicuously glorifying its Milesian cultural and religious heritage.87 But at what price had Panticapaeum achieved this? Nymphaeum, its younger sister colony just 15 km down the coast and on the outside of the Tyritake rampart, was a city open to Scythian inXuences and, as the great wealth of its tombs shows, experiencing its Blu¨tezeit.88 An uneasy 82 Tolstikov (1984), 41–2. 83 Ibid. 41. Shelov-Kovedjaev (1985), 66, 81 sets the maximum number of days per year during which the straits could be frozen at Nymphaeum at twenty, compared to forty at their shortest span closer to Panticapaeum. 84 Hdt. 4.28. See pp. 151–2 above. 85 Tolstikov (1984), 41. 86 See RostovtzeV (1931), 230. 87 Tolstikov (1984), 42–3. 88 RostovtzeV (1931), 230.

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victory over Scythia and control over a Greek alliance had, by comparison, ironically left Panticapaeum at the grave risk of becoming a cultural anachronism and an economic backwater. It is in this broad archaeological context that we can Wnally and fully appreciate the references in our textual sources to events connected with the Athenian grain supply. Let us now turn to them. After the Ionian Revolt, Histiaeus of Miletus is said by Herodotus to go to Byzantium to capture the merchant ships leaving the Black Sea.89 Later, while Xerxes is crossing the Hellespont at Abydos, he observes similar ships, now explicitly labelled by Herodotus as grain ships (º EÆ Ø Æªøª), sailing from the Black Sea en route to Aegina and the Peloponnese.90 As we have seen, the contemporary archaeological evidence from the entire western and northern Black Sea littorals, from Thrace to the Bosporan cities, shows a degree of political and military unrest that is incompatible with seeing the area as a major source of grain in the 490s and 480s. It therefore seems certain that the ships to which Herodotus refers were not carrying the yearly and massive cargoes that we will see passing the Hellespont in the fourth century, but much smaller and exceptional supplies probably being taken at high cost to various Mediterranean Greek states well aware of the coming of the Persians and especially desirous of stockpiling war supplies. Xerxes lets the ships pass: this was not only a gesture of his conWdence in victory, as Herodotus notes, but at the same time indicative that relatively small amounts of grain were involved, which could not decisively aid his enemies.91 For the period preceding the Scythian incursions on the Black Sea coasts and the Persian Wars on the Mediterranean, as the Black Sea Greek colonies developed into cities and rural settlements dotted the Olbian territory, a more signiWcant grain trade with the Mediterranean is possible.92 Nevertheless, even after its Wrst forty or Wfty years (i.e. by 510–500) a process of agricultural exploitation must still have been in its developing stages, and the amount of grain obtained surely not reliable or large enough to create a noticeable dependence for it in any Mediterranean city.93 Of course, a Greek commercial 89 Hdt. 6.5, 26. 90 Hdt. 7.147. 91 Cf. Hind (1994), 489. 92 See Sheglov (1990), 157–9. 93 Noonan (1973), 238–41 correctly inferred in 1973 that the evidence pointed at most to the satisfaction of the food needs of the colonists.



presence at Histria, Berezan, and Taganrog had come several decades earlier than landed settlements.94 Even if these emporia had very limited access to their own hinterlands, some might think that they could procure and control a supply of grain from native or Scythian sources.95 But it has been convincingly shown through archaeobotanical analyses of grain remains from numerous settlements, from the coast to the forest steppe, that the Greeks themselves introduced bread wheat (triticum aestivum) as a main crop to the northern Black Sea region.96 By the mid-Wfth century (as is to be expected) Herodotus notes that there lived close to the Greeks people like the ‘‘Scythian ploughmen’’ (ŒŁÆØ Iæ Bæ) who ‘‘cultivate grain not for their own consumption, but for sale’’.97 But a century before, it is impossible to imagine any Mediterranean demand for the common millet (panicum miliaceum), barley (hordeum vulgare), and hulled wheats (triticum monococcum and triticum dicoccum) that predominated in the region.98 By the middle of the Wfth century it still appears that the Black Sea was not a considerable source of grain for the Mediterranean. Even under the seemingly prosperous ‘‘Scythian protectorate’’ at Olbia, the overseas export of large volumes of agricultural goods seems not to have been a priority or perhaps even a possibility. The archaeological evidence shows that the Olbian territory was not ‘‘recolonized’’ until the end of the Wfth and the beginning of the fourth centuries,99 and the territories of the Bosporan cities on both sides of the Kerch straits show a similar chronology.100 For the sixth and Wfth centuries, we know of only Wve or six agricultural settlements from the territories of the Bosporan cities in Crimea, and about sixty from their 94 See n. 37 above. 95 See Boardman (1999), 250. 96 Pashkevich (2001), 539–40. 97 Hdt. 4.17. See Noonan (1973), 236–8, who places these Scythians on the Tiasmin river basin. The Alazones and so-called Scythian farmers (ŒŁÆØ ªøæª ) (Hdt. 4.18) who also lived nearby may well have been engaged in some form of grain trade with Greeks at around this time. I am unconvinced by Sheglov’s extreme scepticism in this connection, which extends to believing that the Iæ Bæ did not sell ð æ ıØ . . . Kd æØÞ but burn (from æŁø) their grain: see Sheglov (1990), 146–9. 98 Pashkevich (2001), 519–23, 526–30; see Sheglov (1990), 153–5. 99 Kryzhitskiy and Buiskich (1999), 275. 100 Noonan (1973), 233–5; see now Kruglikova (1975), 221–8; Kuznetsov (1999), 342–5; Maslennikov (2001), 252: the number of settlements rises slightly (by ten or twelve) in the last half of the Wfth century.

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counterparts in Taman.101 The little that we know about the latter comes from more recent surface Wnds and aerial photography, but their production was almost certainly outside the central control of Panticapaeum.102 This fact is indicated by the burial of the Bosporan wealthy in the necropoleis of their respective cities instead of at Panticapaeum, one of the few secure indices of the decentralized character of Archeanactid rule.103 The economic prosperity visible at Olbia, Taman, and especially at Nymphaeum at this time seems due not to grain trade, but to a variety of specialized economies well adapted to the semi-nomadic conditions of the hinterland, and independent of the more delicate situation in the territories.104 This entailed the predominance in trade of goods like cattle, horses, furs, animals, slaves, and Wsh—not to exclude bread wheat, albeit almost as a luxury and in very small amounts compared to those of the fourth century.105 The considerable extent to which Athenian economic hegemony in the Aegean inXuenced trade in this area during the last half of the Wfth century can be detected in the region’s metrology.106 The Pontic region was obviously rich, and therefore attractive to Aegean trade; but it is myopic to deduce from this an Athenian quest for grain. Plutarch’s obscure report of one version of Aristides’ death while on public duty in the Black Sea, perhaps in assessing the region’s wealth and interest in joining the Delian League, should be seen in this connection without further implications.107 For the second half of the Wfth century, 101 Noonan (1973), 235; see now Kuznetsov (2000), 108; Kruglikova thoroughly studied the settlements in the 1970s. The imbalance is probably due to the fact that while European settlements would lie exposed on the steppe, those on the Taman peninsula were located on easily defensible islands, which (like the settlements of the Olbian territory on three limans) would have access to water transport along the Kuban river mouths. 102 Sta¨hler (2002), 113–20 examines the rich Wnds of imported Wfth-century pottery from one of these settlements, whose inhabitants he concludes were Sindoi; see also Kuznetsov (1999), 341–2. 103 Vinogradov (2001), 84–5. 104 Sheglov (1990), 152. 105 See Hdt. 4.17–18. 106 A market weight from a city on the Pontic coast of modern Romania shows that Cyzicene and Athenian standards became interchangeable: see H.-C. Meyer and Moreno (2004), 214. 107 Plut. Arist. 26.1.



Pseudo-Xenophon likewise speaks of ‘‘luxuries’’ (Pø ÆØ) that came to imperial Athens from every corner of the world including Pontus, thanks to the city’s naval power.108 It is signiWcant that he considers them ‘‘slighter matters’’ (ØŒæ æÆ). In Aristophanes’ Wasps (performed in 423/2) we Wnd similar evidence in a parodied claim of social injustice: Bdelycleon complains that the demagogues who ran the Athenian Empire, stretching ‘‘from Pontus to Sardinia’’, could potentially provide luxury foods like hare or beestings to the Athenian poor, but did not.109 Despite being an obvious piece of comic exaggeration, the joke implicitly sees the outer tributary reaches of the empire (and speciWcally the Black Sea) as sources only of luxury foods for Athens. Grain is by no means taken for granted and omitted in this passage, but is part of the joke: according to Bdelycleon, in times of crisis the demagogues falsely promised the Athenians large quantities of wheat and gave them only small quantities of barley. SigniWcantly, the grain mentioned here is envisaged as coming from Euboea (as we saw in Chapter 3), not the Black Sea. However, the most discussed literary source for Athenian presence in the Black Sea in the Wfth century is the famous expedition of Pericles to Sinope, usually dated to the early 430s.110 This passage from Plutarch has received countless interpretations, from scholars who have Pericles continue to the north coast and secure a source of grain for Athens, to others who go as far as to deny the historicity of the whole account.111 The latter hypothesis is too extreme, but the combined archaeological and literary sources we have reviewed also demonstrate the extreme unlikelihood of the former. In the mid-Wfth century Panticapaeum was engaged in rebuilding after long economic and military disturbances. The shrunken and divided territories of the Bosporan cities, like that of Olbia, were still probably vulnerable to attack, and without strong central control. In short, for 108 [Xen.] Ath. Pol. 2.7. 109 Ar. Vesp. 700–18. 110 Plut. Per. 20.1–2. See Meiggs (1972), 197–9 (date in the 430s); cf. Meritt et al. (1949–50), 114–17, who propose to date it to 450; Minns (1913), 561 (444). More likely is 436 in Hornblower (2002), 106; cf. Lewis (1992a), 146 n. 113 (but see n. 113 below; IG I3 1180, with Athenian casualties at Sinope as a result of the expedition, does not allow a precise date). 111 See Tsetskhladze (who is among the more sceptical) for a full reference to the debate: (1997b), 461–6.

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most of the Wfth century the agricultural production on the northern Black Sea was neither regular nor considerable, the two criteria that form the basis of grain supply. We must therefore resist reading into Plutarch any direct link between Pericles’ expedition and the Athenian grain supply.112 The account is in fact obviously accurate as it stands, not only because Plutarch and his source managed to avoid all of the obvious anachronistic temptations that so attract us, but because it Wts perfectly with the well-known contemporary Athenian policies of establishing cleruchies and controlling maritime routes.113 These two things are essentially all that resulted from this expedition, according to Plutarch. The role of cleruchies in the Athenian grain supply has been discussed in Chapter 3. Here it is enough quickly to address the issue of control of maritime routes. This must have been, indeed, a basic motive for Athenian interest in the north Aegean since the late seventh century (e.g. at Sigeion and Elaious). Peisistratus and the elder Miltiades continued this trend in the Hellespont and Thracian Chersonesus in the sixth century, and Miltiades and Cimon did the same into the Wfth century.114 Pericles was merely following in this 112 Not to mention the temptation of combining his account with Diod. 12.31, which, as we have seen, dates to 438 the end of the Archeanactid tyranny and the accession of the Spartocidae. Variants of this (widely believed) reconstruction have Pericles going to Panticapaeum either to put Spartocus in power, or to negotiate with him regarding grain exports after his accession. See e.g. Meiggs (1972), 198; RostovtzeV (1922), 68: ‘‘Possibly one of Pericles’ motives for visiting the Euxine was the desire to enter into relations and to come to an arrangement with the new masters of Panticapaeum. The understanding which resulted conWrmed the power of the tyrant without sacriWcing the military and economic interests of Athens. Athens did not think of withdrawing her garrisons, and the tyrant of Panticapaeum had to accept the status of Athenian commercial agent for the export of corn to Athens alone.’’ 113 I accept Braund’s point (2005), 84–6, that a visit to Olbia, and indeed the Cimmerian Bosphorus, is likely, though (as he stresses) unconnected with a desire for grain. In addition to the cleruchy at Sinope, another was established at Amisus (which changed its name to Piraeus and began minting coins with Athenian-owl reverses) and Astacus in the Propontis: see Hind (1994), 492; Lewis (1992a), 146; Braund (2005), excellent on the context, persuasively connects the expedition to the revolt of Byzantium (c.440: Thuc. 1.115), which would have prompted the Athenians to make a show of force in the area, presumably as soon as possible; see also Mattingly (1996) for the ideological importance of this adventure, which Braund argues unleashed a kind of Pontomania at Athens, as well as a series of personal contacts with the region. 114 See Keen (2000), 67–8.



long tradition by venturing into the Black Sea. The proWt to be gained by controlling the specialized economies of Black Sea fur, Wsh, and so forth (as discussed above) would have been signiWcant. But Pericles went further and imposed on the Black Sea and its approaches all the various features of mid-century Athenian imperialism. In addition to the cleruchies placed there and in the strait areas, Athens at some point in the last half of the Wfth century established a garrison at Nymphaeum, led by Gylon, the grandfather of the fourth-century orator Demosthenes; Nymphaeum’s yearly tribute of one talent suggests considerable resources.115 We will return to Gylon shortly. Other measures of control included Athenian oYcials called ‘‘watchers’’ (æ ıæ ) by Aristophanes and Eupolis and attested at Byzantium and Cyzicus before 424/3 and at Chalcedon before 405.116 These seem to be the same oYcials properly called the ‘‘Guards of the Hellespont’’ (+ ¯ºº  ºÆŒ) in the inscriptions which instruct grain shipments to Methone and Aphytis to be allowed to sail from Byzantium.117 Thucydides provides a good example of how Athens used this naval control of the straits and Black Sea commerce: before revolting from Athens in the summer of 428, Lesbos was waiting for archers, grain, and other supplies to arrive from the Black Sea, obviously suggesting that an essential reason for Athenian control of the straits was to intercept all ships bound for allies in revolt.118 Periclean

115 Aeschin. 3.171–2; Craterus FGrHist 342 F8: ˚æÆ æe b K Ł H / Ø ø  d ‹ Ø `Ł Æ Ø e ˝ÆØ K ºØ ºÆ . The name of the city does not survive on the Athenian Tribute Lists (ATL II, 43: A9 IV.143): see Tsetskhladze (1997b), 464–5 with references. See Nixon and Price (1990), 142–3 for ‘‘big spenders’’ (cities paying more than one talent in 441) and ‘‘little spenders’’. 116 Ar. Vesp. 235–7; Eupolis fr. 247 K-A; Xen. Hell. 2.2.1–2. 117 IG I3 61: ll. 10–32 (date: 430/29) give tributary and diplomatic concessions to the Methoneans for good behaviour towards Athens; ll. 32–41 (date: 426/5) say that the + ¯ºº  ºÆŒ will permit import of grain from Byzantium tax-free (presumably also for good behaviour); IG I3 62: (date: 428/7) concessions on grain imports to Aphytis identical to those granted to Methone, in return for an oath of alliance with Athens and Athenian soldiers on Potidaea. 118 Thuc. 3.2. Burstein (1999), 101, has recently denied that Athenian control of the straits was a substantial means of rationing allied grain imports. But such a conclusion does not automatically follow, as he thinks, from the fact that Wfthcentury Black Sea grain exports were not substantial (at least in comparison with those of the fourth century).

Ex Ponto


Athens, like Xerxes at Abydos, had the capability of preventing the hostile stockpiling of grain and other supplies by the Aegean cities, but (unlike Xerxes) chose to exercise it. This is no more than the type of control described by Pseudo-Xenophon in his description of thalassocracy, and clear from other Athenian activities in the area of the straits during the Peloponnesian War.119 We can end our description of the Black Sea in the Wfth century with the young Spartocid dynasty at Panticapaeum and Gylon at Nymphaeum. We have seen the diVerent conditions in the two cities during this period reXected in their archaeology: Panticapaeum, prosperous again after serious setbacks in the Wrst half of the century, rebuilds itself under the Archeanactidae in strict accordance with a Milesian ideological heritage. Nymphaeum does the opposite and lays itself open to Scythia and its inXuences, remaining outside the Bosporan state. In this connection it is signiWcant that when Athenian control comes to Nymphaeum (at a time and precise conditions unknown to us) it is under Gylon of Cerameis, a man who marries into the Scythian nobility.120 Two generations later, Aeschines will Xing this fact at Gylon’s grandson Demosthenes as proof of his unAthenian descent, but it accords completely with everything we have discussed about Nymphaeum in this period, and is therefore extremely unlikely to be a baseless accusation. The rich Graeco-Scythian grave inventories at Oxford reXect perfectly the cultural complexity of Gylon’s Nymphaeum. We have seen that similar forces of cultural assimilation existed freely at Histria and Olbia, whereas at Panticapaeum they were present but probably suppressed in various ways under Archeanactid control. Whereas previous scholars have seen in the Thracian names of the Spartocidae signs that the dynasty was born out of imported Thracian mercenaries121 or out of native Cimmerian aristocrats of 119 [Xen.] Ath. Pol. 2.3. These other activities ranged from a heavy naval presence from 410 to the end of the war, to speciWc measures like Alcibiades’ levying of a 10% tax from merchantmen at Chrysopolis (Xen. Hell. 1.1.22): see Hind (1994), 493. 120 Aeschin. 3.171–3. Aeschines put the Scythian marriage not at Nymphaeum but at Kepoi, after Gylon’s betrayal of the city in 405. Such chronological detail need not be taken seriously from Aeschines, who had little interest in it other than its Wtting into a coherent story painting Gylon in the worst possible light. 121 Gajdukevich (1971), 67.



Thracian stock,122 it is preferable to think that the Spartocidae were a fairly typical Graeco-Scythian aristocratic family of Panticapaeum. Their Thracian name, in turn, goes back to the kind of royal marriage between Scythians and Thracians that we see clearly in Herodotus.123 The power of aristocratic families at Panticapaeum and the other Bosporan cities is abundantly evident. We have already seen their wealthy burials. Large urban dwellings and rich public dedications with the inscribed names of their donors point the same way.124 One of these monuments, a double herm dedicated by a Demarchos son of Scythes, points to the ethnically and culturally mixed aristocracy to which the Spartocidae belonged.125 It is likely that the latter led others of their class in the belief that Archeanactid rule ran against the wider interests of their city. The example they wished to follow was clearly visible nearby at Nymphaeum, a city grown wealthy thanks to intimate contact with Scythia. That this was a major factor in the Spartocid accession seems reXected in testimony that Theodosia sheltered ‘‘Bosporan exiles’’, probably including the Archeanactidae themselves:126 we have already seen that the necropolis of Theodosia, well removed from the Kerch straits, is peculiar for its lack of Scythian inXuences.127 With the accession of the Spartocidae, Panticapaeum therefore took the Wrst step in realigning its cultural and economic life to 122 See e.g. RostovtzeV (1922), 67; cf. Hind (1994), 491, equally unlikely: ‘‘It can surely be discounted that [Spartocus] was Greek, or Sindian, or Sarmatian, or a descendant of the Cimmerian stock still remaining on the Bosporus. He was rather of Thracian origin . . . Perhaps then the Thracians, being at the height of their power, attempted to exploit a diYcult situation by supporting the installation of one of their family in answer to an appeal from the Cimmerian Bosporus.’’ 123 Hdt. 4.80; Zhebelev (1935), 14. According to this hypothesis the Spartocidae were technically Thraco-Graeco-Scythian, an excellent example of the complex and far-Xung ties of the elite of this period. 124 Good examples of these houses, for both the late-sixth and early-Wfth centuries (Tolstikov’s second building period at Panticapaeum) and the late-Wfth century (fourth building period), are documented by Blavatskii (1957), 18–23; see Vinogradov (1997c), 114–15 n. 92, 123–4. Similar examples continue to appear in the latest excavations of the archaic levels on the Panticapaeum acropolis: see above, p. 158. 125 CIRB 1111 ¼ SIG 3 210 (from Phanagoria, early fourth century). 126 Anonymous Periplus Ponti Euxini, 51 (6th century ad but drawing on much earlier sources): K Æ fi b fi B ¨ı  fi Æ ºª Æ   ŒÆd ıªÆ KŒ H ´ æ ı NŒBÆØ; see Gajdukevich (1971), 65–6. For the date, see Diller (1952), 113. 127 See above, p. 160.

Ex Ponto


that of its Scythian hinterland and the rest of the northern Black Sea coast. From the end of the Wfth century, intimate contact with the Athenian aristocracy would take the city even further in that direction, and result in the collaborative creation of an entirely new type of royal economy admirably adjusted to the cultural and economic realities of fourth-century Athens, and to the grand ambitions of the rulers of Bosporus.

II. THE ROYAL ECONOMY: F RO M 4 38 TO THE END OF TH E FOURT H CENTURY b c From the end of the Wfth to the end of the fourth century, the quantity and quality of our evidence for the cultural and economic history of the northern Black Sea region, and of the Bosporan state in particular, is dramatically enhanced.128 The archaeological record progressively reXects a remarkable Xourishing in architecture and art, prima-facie signs of economic growth, and suYcient epigraphic and literary texts survive to allow us to interpret such change. Unsurprisingly, most of this evidence applies to aristocratic material life in the cities and the steppes, and in this basic sense presents a cultural and economic picture continuous with that examined in the previous period. The dynastic transition from Archeanactidae to Spartocidae thus superWcially resembles the replacement of one set of rulers by another. However, the new dynasty was radically diVerent from its predecessor in its aims and behaviour, and this can probably be attributed to its very diVerent perception of the past. Here the archaeology of Bosporus must be read alongside its intellectual history: intensiWed social and commercial contacts with both Scythia and the Aegean (and with Athens in particular) led the Spartocidae to reject the narrow Archeanactid nostalgia for a disappeared Ionian motherland, and to seek to replace it with a new ideology. We shall see that it was this revolution in outlook that dramatically transformed their society, turned the 128 A recent and accessible overview of this evidence is in Fornasier and Bo¨ttger (2002), but Gajdukevich (1971), Minns (1913), and RostovtzeV (1922, 1931, 1993) still remain the basic, indispensable works.



Bosporan state into a kingdom, and placed the economy of its conquered territories, and to a lesser extent that of its cities, in Spartocid hands. This royal economic system is the framework in which the grain trade and all other fourth-century economic ties between Bosporus and Athens belong. We can begin describing the development of kingship at Bosporus during the fourth century at the basic and formal level of titulature, i.e. the question of what the Spartocidae called themselves, or (rather) what they were called by those nearest to them. Contemporary inscriptions and Athenian oratory provide the best evidence for this. Later literary sources, either for ideological reasons or through simple carelessness, refer to the dynasty by tendentious and anachronistic names.129 Granted that we have no inscriptions from the rules of Spartocus (438/7–433/2) and Satyrus (433/2–389/8), the Wrst two members of the dynasty, and that even the extant documents for later rulers are relatively few, we can only lay out a rough sequential framework, as follows.130 One inscription from the rule of Leucon (389/8–349/8) from Panticapaeum features a body of Arcadians (perhaps mercenaries serving in Bosporus) who refer to him as ‘‘the Panticapaean’’, and to his father Satyrus by name alone.131 We also have the double herm of Demarchos from Phanagoria (referred to above), and a pedestal from Hermonassa, which call Leucon ‘‘arkhon of Bosporus and Theodosia’’.132 Until recently, however, all other extant references to Leucon combined the title ‘‘arkhon of Bosporus and Theodosia’’ with either ‘‘king (Æغ) of the Sindoi, Toretoi, Dandarioi and Psessoi’’, or ‘‘king of the Sindoi and all the Maiotai’’.133 (We will presently turn our attention to the important, newly discovered exception to this rule.) 129 See Vinogradov (1997c), 115–18, who gives a full list of the various titles (with


 as the most popular), and their literary attestations. Vinogradov correctly believes that the account of the dynastic transition in Diodorus (see n. 55 above) is completely anachronistic in its reXection of Bosporan titulature. 130 These ruling dates and those that follow are taken from Diodorus Siculus with some commonly accepted corrections; see Hind (1994), 490–5. 131 CIRB 37 (¼ SIG 3 209). For Satyrus, see also Belova (1967), 64. 132 CIRB 1111 (¼ SIG 3 210) (see above, p. 168); Belova (1967), n. 131 above. 133 CIRB 6 (¼ SIG 3 211); CIRB 1037; CIRB 1038; and (respectively) CIRB 8; cf. CIRB 7.

Ex Ponto


Leucon’s son Paerisades I (who shared power with his brother Spartocus II from 349/8 until the latter’s death in 344/3, and then ruled alone until 311/10) in turn appears as arkhon of Bosporus and Theodosia, and king, in several diVerent formulations and combinations, of the Sindoi and Maiotai (or Toretoi and Dandarioi), as well as of two new tribes, the Thateoi and Doschoi.134 One inscription calls him arkhon only of Theodosia,135 while another proclaims (poetically) that he ruled all the land that lay between the ranges of the Taurus and Caucasus.136 Strabo’s testimony that Paerisades was deiWed does not Wnd epigraphic conWrmation.137 A gap exists for the titles of his sons and successors, Satyrus II, Prytanis, and Eumelus, who fought a fratricidal war of succession (311/10–310/39) ending in Eumelus’ sole rule (310/9–304/3). The titles arkhon and king, now in conjoined or separated variants, appear under Eumelus’ son Spartocus III (304/3–284/3), while Eumelus is referred to by name alone in the patronymic.138 This takes us only a little beyond our period of interest. Thereafter, following the fashion of the Hellenistic period, the rulers of Panticapaeum drop the archonship and become kings tout court.139 This epigraphic evidence leads us to two interrelated observations. The Wrst is that, within certain limits, Spartocid titulature admitted a considerable amount of variation, the titles arkhon and king enduring for most of the fourth century, but other details (e.g. the mention of Maiotian tribes singly, or together as ‘‘all the Maiotai’’) changing quite often. The second observation is that none of the monuments that bear this titulature can be said to be oYcial: Spartocid titulature was disseminated not on coinage or state inscriptions, but instead on the individual dedications of other members of the Bosporan aristocracy, a narrow elite in which one family, for example, can be traced from these monuments for the length of four generations.140 On 134 CIRB 10; CIRB 11; CIRB 1039 (¼ SIG 3 215); CIRB 1040; CIRB 972; CIRB 1015 (¼ SIG 3 216); CIRB 1014 (¼ SIG 3 214). 135 CIRB 9 (¼ SIG 3 213). 136 CIRB 113. 137 Strab. 7.4.4. 138 CIRB 974; CIRB 1043; CIRB 18; CIRB 19. 139 See e.g. CIRB 20. 140 Belova (1967), 67, with the following family tree: Artemon I (in Belova’s inscription, see n. 131 above) is the father of Phainippos and Artemon II (CIRB 9,



their own inscriptions, signiWcantly, the Spartocidae seem to have omitted their own titles in favour of humbler phrases such as ‘‘Paerisades and his children’’ (—ÆØæØ  ŒÆd ÆE).141 Variation in Spartocid titulature can therefore be explained to some extent by a lack of Spartocid control over its expression. There were probably other factors involved: it may be true, for example, that Paerisades for a time appeared as arkhon only of Theodosia because his older brother Spartocus II was simultaneously arkhon only of Bosporus;142 or that the inclusion of diVerent tribes is due to the gradual extension of Bosporan territorial ambition and control.143 The precise reason for each variant is, however, diYcult to ascertain, and it would be quite arbitrary to map the history of Bosporan titulature in such minute and linear terms. Our concern, however, is with the broader ideological meaning and development of this titulature, and at this level more secure conclusions can be drawn. Most importantly it seems that each Spartocid embodied the dual powers of an arkhon towards his Greek, and a king towards his barbarian, subjects.144 RostovtzeV long ago saw this double nature (Doppelnatur,) or two-sidedness (Zweiseitigkeit), as a Bosporan feature unique in ancient history.145 This is a crucial point, since it encapsulates the complex cultural inXuences and compromises that were the foundations of Bosporan life and politics, but it begs the basic question of how and why this dual system was instituted. see n. 135 above); Phainippos is the father of an Artemon III ([—]ø $ÆØ  : CIRB 1056, col. I.1) and Phaidimos ([—]  $ÆØ  : CIRB 1056, col. I.2; CIRB 1038, see n. 133 above); and Artemon II could be the father of a Kteatos ([˚ ]Æ  `æ ø : CIRB 1056, col. I.12). Phaidimos is the father of the woman dedicant of CIRB 1043, see n. 138 above. 141 CIRB 1, 2, 5 (all grants of proxenia). 142 CIRB 9: see above n. 135. Dittenberger (n. 2 ad SIG 3 213), 291: ‘‘Bospori nomen hic non fuisse cum spatii rationes doceant, rectissime Schaefer statuit per illos quinque annos (347–342), quos Paerisades cum fratre natu maiore Spartoco una regnaverit, hunc Bosporo, illum Theodosiae praefuisse’’. 143 See Sokolova (2001), 370. An alternative explanation, which I cannot accept, is that variation in titulature denotes the underdevelopment of the Bosporan ruling system: see Vinogradov, in RostovtzeV (1993), 140. 144 Dittenberger (n. 4 ad SIG 3 211), 290: ‘‘Graecorum archontes, barbarorum reges passim vocabantur Spartocidae saeculo quarto’’. 145 RostovtzeV (1993), 70–1. Vinogradov (in RostovtzeV (1993), 90 V.) and Shelov-Kovedjaev (1985), 170–81 disagree with RostovtzeV ’s qualiWcation of ‘‘uniqueness’’, and assimilate the Spartocidae to the Sicilian tyrants.

Ex Ponto


A precious clue to answering that question has emerged from recent excavations in Nymphaeum, at the site of a monumental building complex on the southern plateau just within the walls of the city. The massive architrave of an Ionic monumental entrance discovered there in summer of 2000 bears an impressive and perfectly preserved dedicatory inscription, in which Leucon appears as ‘‘arkhon of Bosporus and Theodosia and of all Sindike, and of the Toretoi and Dandarioi and Psessoi’’ (emphasis added).146 This inscription is unique in representing Spartocid power as an archonship over both Greeks and non-Greeks. This fact goes signiWcantly beyond the normal variations in titulature that we observed before, while the dedication’s monumentality (not to mention its duplication on a much mutilated fragment probably from the same building) rules out error by the stonecutter or dedicant.147 We are therefore unequivocally presented with crucial new evidence for the early development of Spartocid rule. When compared to the inscriptions above, the new text immediately demonstrates that it was Leucon’s forty-year reign that saw the appearance in Bosporus of the title of king over barbarian subjects, and to that extent the transformation of the state into a kingdom. Instead of king of the Sindoi, Leucon is here arkhon ‘‘of all Sindike’’ ( B Ø ØŒB  ), a claim limited both to territory as opposed to people, and to magistracy as opposed to monarchy.148 The claim over Toretoi, Dandarioi, and Psessoi is personal, by contrast, but still an archonship. A similar (albeit much restored) text on a long-known altar might illustrate the introduction of kingship at a stage following that of the Nymphaeum inscription, since it shows Leucon as arkhon of the Sindoi and king over Toretoi, Dandarioi, and Psessoi.149 Thus 146 Sokolova (2000–1), 86, Wg. 8; (2001), 369 (the preliminary announcements of the Wnd). The editio princeps of the text has not yet appeared, but the letters are very clear on the photograph on (2001), 376. I am deeply thankful to Dr Sokolova for showing me other photographs of the text and discussing it with me on various occasions in Crimea and St Petersburg. For the architectural fragments associated with this complex, see Boriskovskaja et al. (1999), 20 (with photos). 147 Sokolova (2001), 371: the fragment is a copy of the third line of the inscription (see Boriskovskaja et al. (1999), 23). 148 Cf. n. 202 with nn. 146, 149; Sokolova (2001), 370–1. 149 CIRB 6a (Shkorpil’s restoration, see Sokolova (2001), 371). See also Vinogradov (1997c), 120 n. 121.



placing the beginning of royal titulature at Bosporus sometime in the period from 389/8 to 349/8 provides a satisfactory explanation for why the Spartocidae were commonly known in (later) antiquity as the Leuconidae.150 That name marked the beginning of an era; it designated the adoption of a monarchy that endured in a single dynasty until 109, and long outlived the other, magisterial half of the Spartocid Doppelnatur. Leucon’s rule is therefore of key importance in understanding the creation of monarchy at Bosporus. But we must remember that titles are only manifestations of deeper realities: Spartocid kingship had to develop as a concept of rule over non-Greeks before it could be expressed as a name. The Nymphaeum inscription only shows that as a concept it was not the initial or an automatic choice. A short summary of political events during this time serves to show that the change in titulature came in the context of a series of other developments tending to the substantial increase of Spartocid power. At the death in 389/8 of his father Satyrus, Leucon inherited an ambitious policy of territorial conquest and an established position of power in international aVairs. Satyrus had died while besieging Theodosia;151 had intervened aggressively in non-Greek dynastic aVairs across the Kerch straits, using his daughter to conclude a marriage alliance with Hecataeus (the king of the Sindoi) and precipitating a war with the Maiotai;152 and, of course, around the end of the Peloponnesian War, had wrested Nymphaeum from Athenian control.153 Instead of Gylon’s treachery (as alleged by Aeschines), the far more likely cause for this event was simply that Athens after 413 was in no position to defend an outpost as distant as Nymphaeum.154 We can conWdently infer that there would have been

150 Ael. VH 6.13 (second to third centuries ad). 151 Harp. s.v. ¨ı  Æ : ˜  Ł  K fiH æd H I ºØH :  Ø b øæ Œ  Kªªf ŒıŁH , n  ıæ   ºØ æŒH K º  . 152 Hecataeus imprisoned his Wrst wife, the Maeotian princess Tirgatao, after marrying Satyrus’ daughter: see Polyaenus, Strat. 8.55. On the identiWcation of this Satyrus as Satyrus I (as opposed to his four later Spartocid namesakes), and the overall historicity of this story, see RostovtzeV (1993), 118–20. 153 Aeschin. 3.171–2; see Hind (1994), 492 (setting the date as c.405). 154 See Shelov-Kovedjaev (1985), 93–5, who is, however, excessively sceptical of the sources, and ends by denying not only Gylon’s treason as commander of an

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little Athenian desire to contest Nymphaeum with a ruler who, if only appeased, could reliably promise friendship and war mate´riel, including grain. All were increasingly desperate needs for a city whose Aegean Empire was in clear and present danger of collapsing.155 From the praise later publicly lavished on him, we can see that Satyrus shrewdly read the situation, took Nymphaeum, and gave the Athenians the grain they needed in return;156 and when the Athenian defeat at Aigospotamoi interrupted that supply, he continued his benefactions by providing a safe haven for dislocated Athenian aristocrats (like the Mantitheus who speaks in Lysias 16), and proAthenian partisans (like the Byzantine associates of Alcibiades).157 We can digress brieXy to point out that this kind of elite migration went in both directions: in the 390s the Bosporan noble Sopaios gave his son money and two ships full of grain and sent him oV on a real voyage de formation, much resembling that idealized by the Peloponnesians of Herodotus’ day in connection with the Scythian prince Anacharsis.158 SigniWcantly, the voyage was not just educational but also commercial in nature (ŒÆ K æ Æ ŒÆd ŒÆ a Łøæ Æ ).159 The son seems to have gone directly to the school of Isocrates, and rapidly to move in the highest Athenian social circles, becoming a friend, for example, of the politician Agyrrhius of Collytus.160 Such voyages seem to have become a trend during the rule of Leucon, and by the 350s Isocrates could refer to a series of his other, no doubt similarly aristocratic, students from Pontus,161 who were educated in his school side by side with men like the politician

Athenian garrison (replacing it, entirely hypothetically, with some lesser misbehaviour during a Ø ø Æ), but also Nymphaeum’s membership in the Athenian Empire. 155 See Xen. Hell. 1.1.35; see Rosivach (2000), 40–1. 156 See Isoc. 17.57; IG II2 212, ll. 20–4; Tuplin (1982), 126, deduces from the lack of a reference in Isoc. 17 to the special honours for Satyrus implied by IG II2 212, that ‘‘an important step forward in Atheno-Bosporan relations was achieved during the Corinthian War, in the late 390s or early 380s’’, i.e. between the dates of Isoc. 17 and Satyrus’ death in 389/8. He is followed by Hind (1994), 500. The good relations apparent before the Corinthian War show that the only ‘‘important step forward’’ at this later date would have been the actual conferral of civic honours like those in IG II2 212. 157 Lys. 16.4; Xen. Hell. 2.2.1 (these Byzantines are later granted Athenian citizenship). 158 See nn. 16 and 17 above. 159 Isoc. 17.4 (c.393). 160 Isoc. 17.31–2. 161 Isoc. 15.224 (Antidosis, published 354/3).



Androtion, the general Timotheus, and the historian Ephorus.162 Many of these leading Athenians established intensely personal connections with the Spartocidae. For example, just as it is Gylon’s grandson Demosthenes who defends Leucon’s I ºØÆ in 355, it is Androtion who moves honours for Leucon’s sons in 346, and Agyrrhius’ great-grandson Agyrrhius who does the same for Spartocus III in 285/4.163 This network of elite Atheno-Bosporan ties was forged during the rule of Satyrus and Leucon, speciWcally from the end of the Peloponnesian War through to the middle of the fourth century (see Table 4). We will soon have a chance to turn to the extremely important intellectual and economic ramiWcations of this fact. From the start of his rule, Leucon moved to consolidate the gains made by Satyrus. By around 370 he had managed to win his father’s long war against Theodosia and its overseas ally, Heraclea Pontica,164 and, no doubt with an eye to the advantages of the port and its surrounding area,165 had refurbished Theodosia’s commercial facilities and opened them up to Athenian trade shortly before 355.166 Leucon’s brother Gorgippos for his part ended Satyrus’ war with the Maiotai and seems to have founded the city of Gorgippia (modern Anapa on the Taman peninsula).167 162 Demosthenes himself, according to pseudo-Plutarch, was a student of Isocrates: [Plut.] X orat. 844c. 163 Dem. 20 (See also Dinarchus (1.43) who later (in 323) blames Demosthenes: . . . e ƺŒ F K Iª æfi A  BÆØ —ÆØæØ ŒÆd  ıæ ŒÆd ˆæªØ f KŒ F — ı ıæ

ı, Ææ z ÆP fiH  ºØ Ø Ø Ø F K ØÆı F ıæH I  ºº ÆØ . . . ; Androtion: IG II2 212; Agyrrhius II: IG II2 653 (see also APF, 279–81; PAA I, 125–6). 164 The main literary sources for the war are: [Arist.] Oec.1347b3–15; Polyaenus Strat. 5.23; 5.44; 6.9.3; 6.9.4; Schol. ad Dem. 20.33. See Hind (1994), 498; I agree with RostovtzeV ’s (1933: 124) appraisal of this collection of clever anecdotes: ‘‘Diese Erza¨hlungen kann man benutzen, um sich eine Vorstellung vom allgemeinen Zustande im Bosporus im IV–III Jahrhundert . . . zu machen, aber die einzelnen mitgeteilten Fakta ko¨nnen kaum auf historische Glaubwu¨rdigkeit Anspruch machen’’. 165 Strabo (7.4.4) speciWes that Theodosia was a better port than Panticapaeum: it could harbour a hundred ships while Panticapaeum could harbour thirty. He describes the plain around Theodosia as a  hªø , and the land between Theodosia and Panticapaeum as hªø æÆ and æÆ AÆ Ø æ . 166 Dem. 20.33. Demosthenes clearly speaks as if the facilities have only recently been opened. 167 Polyaenus Strat. 8.55 gives the end of the war: ˆæªØ  b ıƒe ÆP F c Iæc ØÆ  ƒŒ  ÆP e KºŁH ŒÆd HæÆ  f ÆP fiB [viz. Tirgatao] ªØ Æ

e º ØºÆ . There has long been controversy over the precise nature of the

Other Athenians

Circle (‘School’) of Isocrates Isocrates Athenian Rhetorician and Philosopher (436–338 BC) (PAA 542150)

Gylon (Aeschin. 3.171–3) (PAA 282005) Mantitheus (Lys. 16) (PAA 632650)

Son of Sopaios Sails with grain to Athens, sues Pasion the banker (Isoc. 17)

Friends of Alcibiades (Xen. Hell. 2.2.1)

Anonymous others (Isoc. 15.224)

Ephorus of Cyme Historian Timotheus son of Conon General (PA 13700) Lacritus of Phaselis emporos ([Dem.] 35) Theopompus of Chios Historian et al.

Spartocid dynasty (ruling dates given if applicable)

Gives Kepoi (c.405) Gives Nymphaeum (c.405)

Satyrus (r. 433c388)


Marries Finds refuge

Find refuge Sopaios

Study and trade Associate

Androtion, son of Andron Atthidographer, Politician (PAA 129125)

Bosporan nobility

Agyrrhius I Proposer of Athenian Grain Tax Law of 374/3 (PAA 107660)

Marriage alliance

Anonymous others (Isoc. 15.224) Study and ?trade


Demosthenes (PAA 318625) maternal grandson of Gylon and hD



Defends ateleia

Leucon (r. 389–348)

Sets up statues


Sends grain yearly Moves honours: IG II 212 (346 BC)

Paerisades (r.349–310)


Spartocus II (r. 349–343)

Timocrates (PA 13772) Polyeuctus, son of Timocrates (PAA 778225)

Moves honours in rider 2 to IG II 212 (346 BC)

Agyrrhius II, great-grandson of Agyrrhius I (PAA 107665)

Moves honours: IG II 653 (285/4 BC)

Table 4. The Atheno-Bosporan network: their relations and services



Spartocus III (r. 304–283)



On a more general and important level, the series of stratagems agree in emphasizing the important roles of army, merchants, and fellow Bosporan aristocrats during Leucon’s rule. The prominent position that Scythian units hold in his army according to these episodes168 is entirely consistent with the receptive Spartocid attitude towards Scythia that we observed earlier.169 Contemporary inscriptions also demonstrate the use of foreign mercenary forces,170 while the stratagems refer to a corps of bodyguards,171 as well as to a navy,172 which the Athenians are seen to supply with men in 346.173 The Bosporan military under Leucon, in short, probably Wnished developing all of the features that appear when his grandson Satyrus II sets out from Panticapaeum in 310 against his rival sibling Eumelus: ‘‘enrolled in his army were not more than 2,000 Greek mercenaries and an equal number of Thracians, but all the rest were Scythian allies, more than 20,000 foot-soldiers and not less than 10,000 horse’’.174 Satyrus’ chosen position on the battle line is said, appropriately, to follow Scythian custom.175 Of merchants, the stratagems signiWcantly show how close their interests were to those of the Spartocidae. We need not believe the story that they took up arms on behalf of Leucon against his conspiring enemies176 to see an important continuity with the situation under Satyrus I. The latter had apparently taken great interest in the foundation, i.e. whether the town was renamed from the Ø ØŒe ºØ that appears in late sources: see Kruglikova (1971), 89–91. See also Gajdukevich (1971), 228–9 n. 197; Shelov-Kovedjaev (1985), 133–4; RostovtzeV (1993), 262–4; Alekseyeva (2002), 92–112. 168 Polyaenus Strat. 6.9.4. 169 See pp. 167 V. above. 170 See CIRB 37 (¼ SIG 3 209) with commentary, and Dittenberger n. 1 ad loc., 289 (see n. 131 above); CIRB 180. On the latter inscription, see Vinogradov (1997c), 124 n. 160, who provides the salutary explanation that we are not dealing with yet another son of Leucon, but (as is apparent from the order of the words, where Leucon comes after the ethnic) probably with the ellipsis of a word like ØŁ æ . On Bosporan mercenaries generally, see Mielczarek (1999), 32–43. 171 Aen. Tact. 5.2; Polyaenus Strat. 6.9.2. 172 Polyaenus Strat. 6.9.3. 173 IG II2 212, ll. 59–65. 174 Diod. 20.22.4 (Loeb trans.). 175 Diod. 20.22.3. 176 Polyaenus Strat. 6.9.2 (see n. 171 above): the story preposterously has Leucon borrow money from the merchants, and then refuse to repay it unless they protect him.

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case that the son of Sopaios brought against the banker Pasion. At Wrst he played the role of arbitrator (as Pasion himself had allegedly proposed), but when Pasion failed to appear before him in Bosporus, according to the plaintiV, Satyrus ‘‘called together the shipowners ( ÆŒº æ Ø) and asked them to assist me and not to suVer me to be wronged’’; Satyrus then sent a letter to the same eVect to the city of Athens, which the clerk read to the jury.177 Of Satyrus’ great-grandson Eumelus we are, in turn, told in Diodorus that: In the interests of those who sailed in the Pontus he waged war against the barbarians who were accustomed to engage in piracy, the Heniochians, the Taurians, and the Achaeans; and he cleared the sea of pirates, with the result that, not only throughout his own kingdom but even throughout almost all the inhabited world, since the merchants ( æ Ø) carried abroad news of his nobility, he received that highest reward of well-doing (Kıæª Æ)— praise.178

The fourth-century and later gravestones and proxeny decrees from Panticapaeum, Phanagoria, and Gorgippia demonstrate the widespread origins of the kind of men who, by trading in Bosporus, belonged to a group surprisingly intimate with its rulers.179 Of the Bosporan aristocracy, the stratagems show how essential their support was for the life of the Spartocid regime. Leucon is shown crushing ‘‘a conspiracy of many friends and fellow-citizens’’ ( º Ø ŒÆd  ºE ÆØ ı   Ø  ºº ) ‘‘with the help of his closest partisans’’ ( a H æd ÆP e Ø  ø ) and (as we just saw) the merchants.180 He appears dealing equally severely with treasonous Bosporan trierarchs and their relatives, Wrst deluding them into a sense of security with positions of power, only to round them up afterwards at the most convenient moment and execute them.181 Again, we need not believe the embroidered details to see that the essential presupposition of the stories (the considerable political weight of the Bosporan aristocracy) is the same, and 177 Isoc. 17.19–20, 52 (Loeb trans.). 178 Diod. 20.25.2 (Loeb trans.). 179 The cities represented are Chersonesus (CIRB 173), Heraclea (CIRB 923, 925), Sinope (CIRB 128), Piraeus/Amisus (CIRB 1 and 249–50), Chalcedon (CIRB 2), Colophon (CIRB 248), Chios (CIRB 1233), Syracuse (CIRB 203). 180 Polyaenus Strat. 6.9.2. 181 Polyaenus Strat. 6.9.3. See p. 187 below.



that the type of conspiracy of which Sopaios found himself suspected by Satyrus was a crucial factor in Spartocid politics.182 The evidence thus far shows territorial expansion, intimate contact with Athenian aristocrats, the development of eVective military power, Spartocid commercial interest, and the need to negotiate power among the members of the Bosporan aristocracy. The archaeological evidence fully supports this, showing simultaneous and noticeable changes in the material life of the Bosporan elite and its non-Greek neighbours. We have already seen that there is some literary evidence, particularly in the case of the Sindoi and the Maiotai, that the non-Greek tribes connected with Bosporus had their own aristocracies and royal families.183 The distinct burial culture with kurgan chambers of brick and wood identiWed around the city of Gorgippia (modern Anapa), and labelled with more or less certainty by diVerent scholars as Sindian or Sindo-Maiotian, belongs in any case to this type of conspicuously rich ruling class.184 The name of the Sindian king Hecataeus and the story of a marriage alliance with Satyrus point, like the abundant luxury imports in these tombs, to an advanced stage of hellenization present here already by the early fourth century. However, around 375, and coinciding roughly with the naming of Gorgippia after Leucon’s younger brother,185 that process of acculturation escalates into what we can term ‘‘Bosporization’’: the distinct Sindo-Maiotian brick and wood burials come to an archaeologically abrupt end, and are succeeded by the stone-chambered kurgans typical of fourth-century Panticapaeum.186 The aristocracy of this region is thereafter buried in the same way as the Bosporan ruling class. 182 Isoc. 17.4: The accusation is of plotting against Satyrus’ rule and associating with the exiles (. . . ‰ ŒÆd › Æ cæ !e KØ ıº Ø fiB IæfiB ŒIªg E ıªØ ıªªØª  . . .); the mention of the exiles accords well with the little else that we know about Satyrus’ war against Theodosia (see p. 168 above). 183 See above, p. 174. See also Strab. 11.2.10. 184 Strab. 11.2.10. The famous Seven Brothers kurgans belong in this group. See Alekseyeva (1999), 327–30 (who refers to the old controversy over labelling these graves as Sindian or Scythian); Vinogradov (2001), 85–7; Minns (1913), 206–15. 185 See n. 167 above. 186 Alekseyeva (1999), 330; Vinogradov (2001), 85–7; for the connections between Bosporan, Scythian, and Sindian elites, see Alekseyev (2005), 53–4.

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Just as indicative of considerable political change at this time is the overall centralization of kurgan burials. The diVused location of these monuments before the second quarter of the fourth century not only at Gorgippia, but also at places like Temir Gora, Tsukur Liman, Nymphaeum, Korokondame, and Kepoi, now turns centripetally towards the largest Bosporan city on each side of the Kerch straits, Panticapaeum on the European and Phanagoria on the Asian.187 The change is particularly clear around the Bosporan capital: a great new kurgan necropolis rose to its south on the ridge of Juz-Oba with graves lined up for more than 10 km, stretching from the sea at Ak-Burun, past the line of the old Tyritake rampart, and into the steppe beyond. A second ridge, on whose extremity stood the acropolis of Panticapaeum itself, was similarly used. Visible from every major road leading into the city from any direction, and on every conspicuous vantage point, stood the great mounds—Tsarskii, Kekuvatskovo, Patiniotti, Zolotoi, Kul’-Oba, Melek-Chesme—that became the resting places of the Bosporan elite beginning approximately during the rule of Leucon.188 This, therefore, is the situation at Panticapaeum at the time when (as the new Nymphaeum inscription lets us know) the term ‘‘king’’ was introduced into Leucon’s titulature. But, moving beyond the obvious attribution of this to an increase in the centralized power of Panticapaeum, or to the military and economic success of the Spartocidae, can we say anything more fundamental about what caused the institution of Bosporan kingship? RostovtzeV reXects common opinion when he suggests that the Spartocidae simply took over the types of government customary for each part of their subjects, civic magistracy for Greeks, kingship for barbarians.189 This at Wrst seems plausible, especially in the context of Spartocid political manoeuvres like the marriage alliance between Satyrus and the king of the Sindoi. In such a scenario, kingship was transferred to the Spartocidae from their various non-Greek subjects, in a process that gradually culminated with Leucon’s transformation from arkhon to king of these people. 187 Vinogradov (2001), 82–7; RostovtzeV (1993), 244; Kuznetsov (2002), 68. 188 RostovtzeV (1993), 176–80; Gajdukevich (1971), 269–89; Tsetskhladze (1998b), 48–50; Fless (2002), 81–4. 189 RostovtzeV (1993), 79.



However, the archaeological evidence that we have just examined makes this simple conclusion highly problematical. We have seen, for example, that Panticapaeum did not copy the burial rites of SindoMaiotian royalty or aristocracy, but instead that the process went the other way around. There has never been serious doubt that Greek architects built the full typology of stone-chambered kurgans of Bosporus, which also appear simultaneously and in great numbers in Thrace.190 A comparison of the typically Greek rusticated masonry from the Tsarskii kurgan with that from contemporary Bosporan monumental buildings makes this fact quite obvious (see Figure 4). More solid evidence comes from a kurgan in Sveshtari, Thrace, whose stones bear the Greek numeral signs that aided the construction of the building.191 Beginning from the fourth century, therefore, the custom and technique of burial in stone-chambered kurgans not only around Gorgippia, but also across the Sea of Azov in the region of the Lower Don, almost certainly emanated from Panticapaeum, and can be traced to the architects who worked there: these men created a hybrid form of burial, a Scythian mound redesigned according to the possibilities of Greek monumental architecture.192 This observation alone forces us to look more closely at the possibility that Spartocid kingship was itself an inspired hybrid of Scythian and Greek ideas of royalty, as we shall do at the end of this chapter. Identifying Greek intellectual sources for the meaning of Spartocid rule seems even more urgent if we turn our attention back to the Spartocid archonship. This oYce seems not to have existed previously as an eponymous magistracy in any of the Milesian Black Sea colonies, or even in Miletus itself. It was the overseers (ÆNı B ÆØ) of various priestly colleges that played the leading magisterial role in these cities until the Hellenistic and Roman periods.193 We must therefore be prepared to accept that not only the kingship, but also the archonship, were introduced to Bosporus during Leucon’s rule. This conclusion is plainly reinforced by the new Nymphaeum inscription, which applies the magistracy to Bosporus and Theodosia in seeming parallel to non-Greek communities, to which (we can be 190 RostovtzeV (1922), 78–9; see now Tsetskhladze (1998b). 191 Ibid. 53. 192 RostovtzeV (1922), 76–9; Minns (1913), 194. 193 Vinogradov (1997c), 120–1; e.g. the oYce existed at Olbia c.480 (see IACP, 938).

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Fig. 4. King’s (Tsarskii) kurgan, near Panticapaeum.

sure) it was new and foreign. But again, we leave the speciWc question of the intellectual source of this phenomenon until the end of this chapter. For now, the reasons for adopting the archonship at Bosporus are plain to discern. We have already seen the abundant evidence of the power and inXuence of rival aristocratic families in Bosporan politics.194 We also recall the related fact that Spartocid titulature appears only on the dedications of these other families.195 Every sign of Spartocid titulature is, in fact, absent from Panticapaean coinage until the late third century, i.e. almost a hundred years after numismatic declarations of kingship had become a Mediterranean commonplace.196 The explanation undoubtedly lies in the very sensitive nature of this coinage, announcing on its reverse the Wnancial backbone of the state as wheat, and its protection by armed force (the griYn, holding a spear in its jaw, and framed by the Wrst three letters

194 See p. 179. 195 See p. 171. 196 In comparison to that of Antigonus in 306 and of Agathocles in 304, the Spartocid royal minting began under Leucon II (240–20), and then only in bronze, a fact which Vinogradov regarded with amazement: see RostovtzeV (1993), 140.



Fig. 5. Panticapaeum stater, fourth century (reverse). Fig. 6. Panticapaeum stater (showing obverse) turned into ring (from the Great Ryzhanovka kurgan).

of the city’s name: —`˝ (see Figure 5); the obverse ambiguously shows either Pan or a satyr (‘‘Satyros’’), each of which could equally symbolize Spartocid Panticapaeum.197 Three examples converted into rings found in the Great Ryzhanovka kurgan (c.350–300) (see Figure 6), 150 km south of Kiev, may give a neat illustration of the practical uses of this coinage, Wrst by Spartocid paymasters, then by mercenary troops, to which the original owners of the rings may have belonged.198 At the request of such men, their coined wages could even be completely melted and worked into jewellery by the goldsmiths of Panticapaeum.199 Each of these facts illustrates the great circumspection that the Spartocidae employed in expressing the reality of their power, and in

197 On the coin, see Langner (2005), 56–61, who identiWes the Wgure on the obverse as a satyr, a reference to the Spartocid ruler Satyros; the debate between those who see Pan and those who see a satyr on this coin has been long and, in my view, unnecessary: I prefer to read a clever use of intentional ambiguity. 198 Reeder (1999), 210–11; on the kurgan and its Wnds, see Chochorowski and Skoryi (1997), 73, 91–2, photos 3, 4, 6. 199 On other forms of distribution of the objects to the Dnieper area (through gift, exchange, and booty) as a ‘‘circulation cycle’’, see H.-C. Meyer (2006), ch. V.3; see also n. 247 below.

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limiting, controlling, and sharing their own control of government. The institution of Spartocid archonship neatly Wts into this evidence for Bosporan aristocratic collaboration, a system undoubtedly more responsible than any other for the length and stability of Spartocid control for more than three centuries. The new magistracy legitimated what was in eVect a hereditary tyranny not only by dressing it in a constitutional name, but by leaving intact the most prestigious aristocratic oYces, in particular the traditionally powerful priesthoods, of each Bosporan city.200 Besides the stabilizing virtues of such an arrangement, this was a powerful incentive for propaganda, encouraging aristocratic dedicants to mention the Spartocid powers alongside their own, as in fact they did proliWcally, and with obvious pride. On the monumental entrance at Nymphaeum, for example, Theopropides the ‘‘president of the contests’’ (Iªø Ł ) seems to the onlooker to be a colleague of Leucon the arkhon.201 On the monumental statue base of Stratocles (c.370–350), where Leucon is arkhon and king, the dedicant’s father Deinostratos is the important priest of Apollo Iatros, chief divinity of Panticapaeum.202 In such juxtapositions of old and new titles, we see yet another instance of the successful combination of tradition and innovation that we discussed at the beginning of this chapter. We can see the ramiWcations of this system of aristocratic powersharing everywhere in Bosporus. The dozens of monumental kurgan graves that still surround Panticapaeum plainly reveal the existence of a jealous oligarchy incapable of tolerating the exercise of a straightforward monarchy by one of its members, or even the usurpation of the traditional magistracies. Whereas the inscriptions of this closed group of men exist in relative abundance, none has ever been discovered that betrays the existence (much less the authorship!) of a council ( ıº) or popular assembly (B ) at Panticapaeum.203

200 See e.g. Belova (1967), n. 131 above; CIRB 6, n. 133 above. 201 See n. 146 above. 202 CIRB 6, n. 133 above. 203 See RostovtzeV (1993), 84, who contrasts this remarkable situation with that in Syracuse and, later, Pergamum. For the single mention of a Panticapaean KŒŒº  Æ, see n. 235 below.



Archaeological evidence discovered during the last Wfteen years can now illustrate the role played by this oligarchy in the economic history of Bosporus. Seventeen rural settlements dating from the fourth to the middle of the third century have been excavated at various points of the European Bosporus, ten of these practically lining, or on, the Azov coast from Zenonos Chersonesos on the east to the western end of Kazantip gulf (Cape Kazantip) to the west (see Map 3).204 All of these settlements appear to be large farmsteads, with one or more buildings devoted to Wsh-salting, wine-making, and food storage.205 The largest of these settlements, at Generalskoe Zapadnoe, combines the functions just mentioned with a rampart/ditch defensive system and a port.206 No city or town lay in the vicinity of these complexes, only a steppe hinterland dotted with small, unfortiWed villages, 250 of which had already been mapped, surveyed, and occasionally excavated by the 1970s.207 Their extremely rudimentary construction, irregular planning, and overall material poverty (hand-made pottery, absence of storage pits, etc.) suggest the presence of a sparsely settled population dependent on the centres of the coast.208 The construction of Generalskoe Zapadnoe can be dated by means of amphora stamps and coins to c.370.209 Its construction is magniWcent: over a surface of more than 1,500 m2 , two wings of rooms (the Wrst extending 80 m east to west, the second 40 m north to south), three towers, two peristyle courtyards, and two auxiliary buildings with storage pits; tiled roofs, stone-paved Xoors, and walls of large, rusticated masonry of the same type as that of the palace at Panticapaeum built in the second half of the fourth century.210 The largest of the storage pits, cylindrical, dressed in 204 See Maslennikov (1998), 43, with map. 205 Maslennikov (2005), 160–4, (1998), 42–72. 206 Ibid. 50–61. Finds from the last several years here have not yet received full publication, and I am grateful to the excavator, Dr Maslennikov, for giving me access to these and to the site. 207 Maslennikov (2005), 160–4 (now gives 300 as the number), (1998), 72–89; Kruglikova (1975), 53–100. 208 See Maslennikov (1998), 76; (1993), 72–3; cf. RostovtzeV (1993), 77; Vinogradov, in ibid. 137. It is, of course, extremely diYcult to apply an ethnic label to this population. Strabo (7.4.6), here obviously drawing upon Ephorus (who is highly tendentious on these matters, as we shall see) calls them ˆøæª who pay æ  to the ˝ . Maslennikov has chosen Scythian as the most convenient label. 209 Maslennikov (1998), 58–9. 210 Ibid. 50–61, (1993), 69–72.

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stone, and with a clay Xoor, is 5.3 m in diametre and 5 m in depth, so that at 110:3 m3 it could hold approximately 2,100 medimnoi of grain.211 The complex saw continuous use until its destruction by Wre in the mid-third century.212 From the size and quality of this construction there is no question that we are dealing with the rural residence of a member of the Bosporan aristocracy, if not of the Spartocidae themselves. The little that we hear from the literary sources about the agricultural exploitation of the Bosporan territory (æÆ) suggests that land not belonging to the Greek colonies was divided into ‘‘villages’’ (ŒHÆØ) under Spartocid control, eVectively a royal territory (Æغ، ªB) whose inhabitants had to pay tribute (æ ) to its ruler.213 Strabo mentions the villages on the stretch of coast from Theodosia to Panticapaeum: ‘‘the territory is everywhere productive of grain, and it contains villages’’.214 As to how these villages were administered, Polyaenus recounts that in order to fool the relatives of the trierarchs that he suspected of treason, Leucon entrusted to them the magistracies (IæÆ ) and commissions (KغØÆØ) of the villages.215 We cannot, of course, take Polyaenus’ facts at face value, but in this case they Wnd good conWrmation in the statement made by the son of Sopaios that his father’s relations with Satyrus ‘‘are so intimate that he has control over an extensive territory, and has charge of Satyrus’ entire forces’’.216 The same two terms, magistracy (Iæ) and commission (KغØÆ) reappear and obviously denote, respectively, administrative and military command over territory ultimately under Spartocid control. Our sources also agree that the Spartocidae entrusted these posts only to their most trusted friends, men of the highest Bosporan

211 See Maslennikov (1998), 51, (1993), 70. 212 Maslennikov (1998), 59. 213 See RostovtzeV (1993), 74–6; Vinogradov, in ibid. 137. For the use of the word æ  in this context, see Strab. 7.4.6. The port of Tanais on the Don delta may have played an important role in supplementing exports from the early third century (see Bo¨ttger et al. (2002), 71); it is worth keeping in mind that the Don delta is suited to Wshery much more than to agriculture, and that control of the Bosporan straits (especially at Panticapaeum) controlled and determined sea traYc to and from this area (Larenok and Dally (2002), 91). 214 Strab. 7.4.4: æÆ AÆ Ø æ , ŒÆ  ıÆ. 215 Polyaenus Strat. 6.9.3. 216 Isoc. 17.3.



aristocracy: Satyrus, we must not forget, later allowed one of his sons to marry Sopaios’ daughter.217 The duties of a commission (KغØÆ) seem clear enough: to lead the Bosporan military forces.218 For the magistracies (IæÆ ) over Bosporan territories we have some indirect literary analogies, and now the archaeological evidence from Generalskoe Zapadnoe and similar sites. We read, for example, of stratagems involving the raising of money by the kings of Thrace. In the Wrst case, Cotys orders each of his subjects to sow enough land to bear him three medimnoi; in the second, Cersobleptes’ governor (oÆæ ) Seuthes gives the same order for Wve medimnoi. In both cases the orders are followed, and the grain is ‘‘brought down to the sea’’ (ŒÆ ƪƪg ÆP e Kd ŁºÆ

Æ K æÆŒ ), or ‘‘brought down to the coast to the emporia’’ (ŒÆ ƪƪg s Kd a KæØÆ I ) to be collected and sold.219 Of course, such evidence can be accepted as giving no more than an impression of conditions in Bosporus, but even that is enough to suggest that the role of the complex at Generalskoe Zapadnoe (like that of its sister sites) was to act both as collection points for the tribute of grain, and as rural seats for the Bosporan aristocrats appointed to the magistracies of the royal territories.220 These were not only honourable but also highly remunerative oYces. We remember how Sopaios was able to send his son oV to the school of Isocrates with money and two shiploads of grain.221 Here then is another example of Bosporan power-sharing: aristocrats like Sopaios inhabiting, and no doubt building, what were eVectively countryside palaces like that at Generalskoe Zapadnoe. Their sons could go and boast to an Athenian jury: ‘‘I, who live in Pontus and possess so large an estate that I am even able to assist others!’’222 Within this system of aristocratic cooperation, it was, however, impossible to forget who played the dominant role. As the case of 217 Isoc. 17.11. 218 See above, p. 178. 219 [Arist.] Oec. 1351a18–23 (Cotys); Polyaenus Strat. 7.32 (Cersobleptes). On these passages, and for references to the same process at Heraclea, Byzantium, and Illyria, see RostovtzeV (1993), 76–7. 220 Perhaps [Dem.] 35.32, in which Coan wine and salted Wsh are sailed to Theodosia from Panticapaeum for ‘‘a certain farmer . . . for the use of laborers on his farm’’ (I Łæfiø Ø d ªøæªfiH . . . E Kæª ÆØ E æd B ªøæª Æ ) is to be connected with this type of complex. 221 Isoc. 17.4. See p. 175 above. 222 Isoc. 17.56.

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Sopaios demonstrates, the Spartocidae could take away just as easily as they could give. Suspected of treason, Sopaios was arrested, while Bosporans living in Athens were ordered to conWscate his son’s possessions and force him to return, even if that meant raising the matter oYcially with the Athenian state.223 Spartocid pre-eminence appears in the same way in the famous relief stele of 346, where the words of Androtion’s honoriWc decree make it clear that the export of Bosporan grain to Athens lay ultimately in the hands of Spartocus II and Paerisades I, and that they were to receive the same Athenian grants (øæØÆ ) given before to Satyrus and Leucon.224 The Spartocid envoys Sosis and Theodosius, no doubt men of the Bosporan aristocracy, who ‘‘take care of those arriving from Athens at Bosporus’’ (Kغ F ÆØ H IØŒ ı ø `Ł Ł N ´ æ ), are present and even praised on the decree, but by comparison only invited to dine in the Athenian prytaneion.225 Demosthenes had been perfectly accurate when he referred to Leucon in 355 as lord or master (ŒæØ ) of the Bosporan grain trade,226 and when he said that 400,000 medimnoi came ‘‘from him’’ (Ææ KŒ ı).227 The decree of Androtion is therefore no normal Greek treaty, no exchange of obligations between two poleis, but the personal receipt of Athenian grants by the Spartocidae and vice versa.228 The tax-exemption (I ºØÆ) and loading priority received by merchants who took grain to Athens was granted not by Bosporan law but through Spartocid proclamations (Œ æªÆ Æ).229 While in Bosporus we can therefore speak of the rule of an oligarchy, in overseas aVairs, and particularly the grain trade, the Spartocidae held absolute power.230 223 Ibid. 17.5. 224 IG II2 212, ll. 11–24. 225 Ibid. ll. 49–53. 226 Dem. 20.31. 227 Ibid. 20.32. 228 RostovtzeV (1993), 73. 229 Ibid.; see Dem. 20.31, n. 226 above. 230 Burstein (1993), 83, contrasts the evidence from Isocrates with that from Demosthenes and the decree of Androtion to argue that ‘‘a major reorganization of the Bosporan grain trade . . . must have occurred sometime between the late 390s and 355 BC . . .’’, its principal feature being the centralization of control into Spartocid hands at the expense of other Bosporan aristocrats. He points speciWcally to the conclusion of Isocrates’ speech (17.57), where Sopaios appears to have a capacity equal to that of Satyrus to grant favours to Athens, including export rights. This would follow the general trend underlined by the building of the Spartocid palace (see next para.), but the relative importance of Bosporan aristocrats in the grain supply throughout the fourth century is still unmistakable (recall Sosis and Theodosius), and probably more stable than Burstein assumes.



The complex of buildings excavated in recent years on the acropolis of Panticapaeum, and convincingly identiWed by Tolstikov as the Spartocid palace, clearly shows how that reality translated into physical terms. The area of approximately 1,350 m2 covered by the total complex (a signiWcant part of which was two-storied),231 and the magniWcence of its architecture and artwork,232 nevertheless pale into insigniWcance next to its location at the very epicentre of Panticapaean civic life. The complex can most probably be dated to the second half of the fourth century and the rule of Paerisades I.233 It is interesting in this connection to read Strabo’s report that Paerisades was deiWed234 together with Diodorus’ statement that Paerisades’ youngest son Eumelus, having disposed of his two older brothers, proceeded to secure the support of his fellow aristocrats by returning to an ancestral constitution ( æØ   ºØ  Æ).235 This program may be interpreted as a return to the distribution of power among the Bosporan oligarchy that we saw existing during Leucon’s rule, a delicate arrangement that would have been seriously damaged by the deiWcation of Paerisades no less than by his construction of such a house on the Panticapaean acropolis.236 The arrogance of that

231 See Tolstikov (2001b), 15. 232 See Tolstikov (2000), passim. 233 Ibid. 315. 234 See n. 137 above. 235 Diod. 20.24.4. It is clear that the  ºE ÆØ referred to here are fellow aristocrats. They are enraged at the murder of their kinsmen, whom we have just seen Eumelus purging as the  º Ø of his defeated older brothers Satyrus and Prytanis (20.24.3). 236 Although an extremely delicate task, it may be possible to follow changes in Bosporan sculpture that would point to the same Spartocid accretion in power at the expense of other Bosporan aristocrats during the last half of the fourth century. The comparison is between the recently discovered Taman relief with two warriors, dated to around 370–60 by stylistic criteria and typology of weapons and armour (see Simon (1999), 296; Tolstikov (1999), 147; cf. Ridgway (1999), 41; Savostina (1999), 291 with photos), and the monumental (c.2 m high) statue from Panticapaeum, now in the Hermitage. The latter bears a striking aYnity in size and style to a statue from the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus (the so-called Mausolus, now in the British Museum) and is dated stylistically to the mid-fourth century (see Gajdukevich (1971), 177; Waldhauer (1928), 50; (1924), 45; Waywell (1978), 68–70, 97–103, pls. 13, 14, 17). The Wgures on the Taman relief have been identiWed as two Spartocidae wearing (historicizing) Corinthian helmets, symbols of the highest military and political rank (see Tolstikov (1999), 146; Savostina (1999), 288–90, 292; Simon (1999), 298 (Simon goes furthest in this direction, tentatively identifying the older Wgure as Satyrus and the younger as Leucon’s brother Metrodorus)). The St Petersburg statue, in turn, also

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project would have been highlighted by the eruption of war with Scythia around 330 (we do not know for how long), a situation which harmed trade,237 and for a time forced both the cancellation of the tax-exemption of the Athenians and of the Panticapaean aristocracy, and the requisition of war contributions (N æÆ ) from the latter.238 We have so far focused on the social and political aspects of Spartocid rule and their economic implications. But aside from insisting on the perennial importance of conceptions of tradition in the Black Sea generally, from Herodotus to Dio, we have not yet reached the ideological and intellectual foundations of the system. In attempting this, we could add to the quantity of surviving evidence (from architecture, sculpture, jewellery, pottery, etc.) those literary attestations of cultural ‘‘perishables’’ that further prove that the northern Black Sea colonies, and Bosporus in particular, were active participants in the mainstream of Greek artistic and intellectual life. We have, for example, Xenophon’s precious description of the Thracian coast near Salmydessus, where ‘‘many vessels sailing to the Pontus run aground and are wrecked’’,239 and where ‘‘there were found great numbers of beds and boxes, quantities of written books, and an abundance of all the other articles that ship owners carry in wooden chests’’.240 There are also recorded visits to the ‘‘theatres’’ ( a ŁÆ æÆ) of Panticapaeum by the greatest cytharodes of the day, like bears a remarkable similarity to the seated Spartocus II and Paerisades I on the relief decree of 346, including their long hair (on the hair see Sokolov (1999), 148). While the Taman relief and the new Nymphaeum inscription would agree in representing the Spartocidae as ¼æ , the later Athenian and Panticapaean portraits agree in emphasizing the monarchic (and indeed quasi-divine) aspects of their power. 237 [Dem.] 34.8. 238 The reinstitution (and thus previous temporary cancellation) of Athenian I ºØÆ is implied by [Dem.] 34.36 (see Burstein (1978), 431; Gajdukevich (1971), 98–9); the same, plus the collection of N æÆ , is implied for the Panticapaean aristocracy by Diod. 20.24.4 (speaking of Eumelus’ conciliatory measures in 310; see n. 235 above). 239 Xen. An. 7.5.12 (Loeb trans). 240 Xen. An. 7.5.14 (Loeb trans.); cf. Bresson (1994), 143, who argues that they are ‘‘documents de bord’’. One of the great hopes of Pontic archaeology lies in underwater exploration, since the Black Sea is non-oxygenated below 200 m. This means that organic remains below this level, such as shipwrecks, await discovery virtually intact: see Ballard et al. (2001).



Aristonicus of Olynthus241 and Stratonicus of Athens,242 and we have the signature of Praxiteles on a statue base at Olbia.243 However, not only is it virtually impossible to place such evidence in any secure economic context, but also it quickly carries us into anecdotal realms and generates only diVuse conclusions. The opposite is the case if we return to Bosporan associations with Athenian elite circles, particularly the school of Isocrates. We have already seen the evidence showing that frequent visits to this group by Bosporan aristocrats were crucial in cementing personal connections to an elite of Athenian politicians (see Table 4).244 As Chapter 5 will show in detail, an Athenian elite was involved in every aspect of its city’s grain supply, from the personal and lucrative level of lending money or receiving and selling grain (Andocides, Demosthenes, Aeschines, Philocrates), to the oYcial and empowering faculties of proposing a grain-tax law (Agyrrhius senior), preserving or moving Spartocid honours (Demosthenes, Androtion, Agyrrhius junior), or establishing cleruchies and protecting the Hellespontine sailing routes (Timotheus). That chapter will focus on the rhetorical devices developed by these politicians to present the Athenian grain supply to their democratic audiences as a public aVair (K fiH Œ Ø fiH), i.e. securely away from the control of the few, under which it evidently really lay. For the moment, we will focus only on the eVect that Athenian intellectual circles had on Bosporan self-representation. Here art serves an evidentiary role for Bosporan aristocrats parallel to that of rhetoric for Athenian politicians, letting us see how they wished to represent themselves. This is especially true given that much of this art, magniWcent luxury manufactures of gold, electrum, and silver found in the fourth-century kurgans of Bosporus and Scythia, was made by craftsmen who lived, or spent considerable time, in the Black Sea Greek colonies, especially Panticapaeum.245 241 Polyaenus Strat. 5.44. No theatre has yet been found in Panticapaeum, although one may lie near a temple of Dionysus at the foot of the south slope of Mt. Mithridates: Gajdukevich (1971), 175. 242 Ath. 8.349d. 243 See Minns (1913), 295. 244 See p. 175 above. 245 Boardman (1994), 196–210; RostovtzeV (1993), 86; Vinogradov, in RostovtzeV (1993), 142; Treister (1999a), 79 (see also (1999b), 117–21, for sculptors); Gajdukevich

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These masterpieces reveal a Wrst-hand understanding not only of Scythian objects and shapes, but also of the aesthetic principles of Scythian art, and how all three can be translated into Greek terms.246 In other words, these objects were created under the immediate demand and according to the tastes of their consumers, and at Panticapaeum the most inXuential of these clients were obviously not Scythians from the steppe, but members of the Bosporan aristocracy.247 The elite of Spartocid Panticapaeum—true followers of Gylon’s Nymphaeum in opening their blood lines, their empire, and their city to the steppes—had such a consuming interest in the Scythians that they wished to take objects like these to the grave. Since this is just one facet of how the iconography on elite artifacts reXects wide cross-cultural contact, it is therefore remarkable to see so many generations of scholars, including RostovtzeV, commonly describe samples of this art as ethnologically realistic ‘‘illustrations to Herodotus’’, as ‘‘precious documents for reconstructing the life and religion of the Scythians’’.248 It would, after all, be highly surprising a priori if the Bosporan aristocrats who commissioned these works had much desire for scientiWc accuracy, or if the artists of Panticapaeum went to any lengths to understand and realistically depict such things as the lore of the Great Goddess, the ceremonies of holy (1971), 132; Williams (1998), 99–104; H.-C. Meyer (2006), ch. V.3, on the workshops; Jacobson has made a recent and unconvincing attempt to downplay (or eliminate) the role of Greek artists in this process; see ibid. on this untenable trend in US Scythology. 246 Boardman (1994), 196–210. 247 Objects found in the Dnieper region, far from Panticapaeum, were likely recirculated (see above, n. 199 and Treister (2005), 62, on the phiale from Solokha which has two inscriptions: the Wrst ‘‘Hermon (has donated this bowl to) Antisthenes (in memory of the) Eleutheria (festival)’’ and the second: ¸ˇ-ˇ. It is even safe to expect that some of these valuable pieces were directly commissioned, although showing this at the level of individual detail is extremely diYcult: e.g. Alekseyev (2005), 50–53, oVers such an interpretation for the famous Solokha comb; and Grach (2001), 27, connects the diseased jaw of the Kul’-Oba ‘‘king’’ (preserved in the Hermitage) with the illustration of a manual tooth operation on the electrum vase found with him. 248 RostovtzeV (1922), 104–12. See also RostovtzeV (1993), 38–9, 86; Jacobson (1995), 52–64; Rolle (1989), 54–131; Sta¨hler and Nieswandt (1991–2); Raevskii, in RostovtzeV (1993), 61 n. 31 has references to the range of recent studies on these works as representing real Scythian customs, cult, etc.—a question of modern reception that is thoroughly handled by H.-C. Meyer (2006), ch. V.3.



communion, and the other intricacies so perversely read into this art today. Instead, as we recall, some members of the Bosporan clientele for whom these objects were made had spent time at Athens. Some of the objects recall the city explicitly: images of the head of Athena Parthenos appear frequently, for example on jewellery from the Kul’Oba kurgan (c.350).249 The contemporary wood sarcophagus from the so-called ‘‘Serpent tumulus’’ at Panticapaeum, featuring caryatids, reliefs, and monumental architectural arrangement, is unmistakably inspired by the Erechtheum and other monuments of the Athenian Acropolis.250 Finally, very reliably forming a part of any funeral inventory from the Bosporan kingdom is the peculiar type of imported Attic red-Wgure vases known as the ‘‘Kertch style’’.251 It is, however, the inXuence of the school of Isocrates on the treasures consumed by the Bosporan elite, some of them his students, that really permits a systematic judgement. Taste unsurprisingly suits education, as we see by reading the views expressed in the fragments of a famous Isocratean, Ephorus of Cyme.252 Let us turn to the full quotation in Strabo: Ephorus, in the fourth book of his History, the book entitled Europe, having made the circuit of Europe as far as the Scythians, says towards the end that the modes of life both of the Sauromatae and of the other Scythians are unlike, for, whereas some are so cruel that they even eat human beings, others abstain from eating any living creature whatever. Now the other writers, he says, tell about their savagery, because they know that the terrible and the marvelous are startling, but one should tell the opposite facts too and make them patterns of conduct (ÆæÆ ªÆ Æ), and he himself, therefore, will tell only about those who follow ‘‘most just’’ habits, for there are some of the Scythian Nomads who feed only on mare’s milk, and excel all men in justice; and they are mentioned by the poets: by Homer, when he says that Zeus gazes down on the land ‘‘of the Galactophagi and Abii, men most just’’, and by Hesiod, in what is called his Circuit of the Earth, when he says that Phineus is carried by the Storm Winds ‘‘to the land of the Galactophagi, who have their dwellings in wagons.’’ Then Ephorus reasons out the cause as 249 Photo in Williams and Ogden (1995), 145; see Pinelli and Wa˛sowicz (1986), 37 for references to other examples. 250 See ibid., no. 1, pp. 32–7. 251 Boardman (1989), 190–216; Fless (2002), 88–93, with illustrations. 252 Barber (1988), 12, puts the composition of the fourth book of the History at c.356.

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follows: since they are frugal in their ways of living and not money-getters, they not only act orderly towards one another, because they have all things in common, their wives, children, the whole of their kin and everything, but also remain invincible and unconquered by outsiders, because they have nothing to be enslaved for. And he cites Choerilus also, who, in his The Crossing of the Pontoon-Bridge which was constructed by Darius, says, ‘‘the sheep-tending Sacae, of Scythian stock; but they used to live in wheatproducing Asia; however, they were colonists from the Nomads, law-abiding people.’’ And when he calls Anacharsis ‘‘wise,’’ Ephorus says that he belongs to this race, and that he was considered also one of the Seven Wise Men because of his perfect self-control and good sense. And he goes on to tell the inventions of Anacharsis—the bellows, the two-Xuked anchor and the potter’s wheel. These things I tell knowing full well that Ephorus himself does not tell the whole truth about everything; and particularly in his account of Anacharsis (for how could the wheel be his invention, if Homer, who lived in earlier times, knew of it? ‘‘As when a potter his wheel that Wts in his hands,’’ and so on); but as for those other things, I tell them because I wish to make my point clear that there actually was a common report, which was believed by the men of both early and of later times, that a part of the Nomads, I mean those who had settled the farthest away from the rest of mankind, were ‘‘Galactophagi,’’ ‘‘Abii,’’ and ‘‘most just,’’ and that they were not an invention of Homer.253

If we look at the surviving fourth-century luxury pieces from Bosporus to the Dnieper, it is plain to see in them the Scythians of Homer and Ephorus: justest and wisest, drinkers of mare’s milk, frugal, nomadic, wagon-dwelling, strangers to money-making, communists, invincible warriors, lords of wheat and livestock, the people of Anacharsis. Far from illustrations to Herodotus, what we see is the inXuence of Homeric myth on fourth-century Greek culture. This is poetry and art instead of ethnography, the fantasies of fourthcentury Athenian rhetoricians instead of any eVort to depict real life on the steppe.254 Theopompus, another student of Isocrates, 253 Strab. 7.3.9 ¼ Ephorus FGrHist 70 F42 (Loeb trans.). 254 Unlike RostovtzeV, Hartog (1988), 321–2, does not discern this crucial distinction between Ephorus and Herodotus. Kindstrand (1981), 23–4, who studied the entire ancient tradition of Anacharsis, notes: ‘‘there is no deWnite idealization of the Scythians from an ideological point of view in the extant material prior to Ephorus’’; but he is at a loss to understand how Ephorus ‘‘who does not give the impression of possessing a creative mind’’ could really have been the Wrst.



seems to have produced similar idealizations of Scythia.255 Here therefore we have the palpable evidence of the enormous intellectual inXuence that aristocratic, Isocratean Athens—the same closed circle of protagonists of the Athenian grain supply seen on Table 4—had on the identity and self-representation of the Bosporan elite.256 My argument here is new only in the most superWcial sense. RostovtzeV must take the credit for uniting most of the evidence and tracing the commanding inXuence of the ‘‘Ephoran’’ Scythian in ancient literature, from the fourth century to the age of Strabo and Lucian. But RostovtzeV chose to reject his own conclusions, which I think were absolutely correct.257 His Ephoran texts provide enough quotations to set almost as captions for every golden treasure that survives—this is not at all to say that the iconography provides ‘‘illustrations to Ephorus’’, but that the ideas behind both were developed in the intellectual circle of Isocrates. Later texts, for example, liked to see their wise Anacharsis as the antithesis not only of sea travel and trade (how ironic!258) but also of the gymnasium, music, wine, and pleasure: just so, the depictions on Black Sea metallurgy strikingly lack all of these motifs (no Herodotean Scythians here 255 See Theopomp. FGrHist 115 F45. 256 Moreno (forthcoming a) is the preliminary publication of this idea with illustrations of the key pieces. My hypothesis of course demands a detailed and systematic analysis of the archaeological evidence, such as will be provided by my colleague H.-C. Meyer in his Oxford D.Phil. thesis. We hope in the near future to join forces to provide a fully illustrated historical and archaeological publication. 257 RostovtzeV (1933), 81–2, carefully reading the above passage of Ephorus, himself recognized it as a fantasy typical of the Isocratean school: ‘‘Ganz augenscheinlich ist auch, abgesehen von dem Inhalt, daß eine von diesem Gesichtspunkten aus verfaßte Beschreibung keine wirkliche, sondern nur eine ku¨nstliche sein muß . . . Die Skythen des Ephorus sind dementsprechend nichts Realer. Sie sind ein rhetorisches, moralisierendes ÆæÆ ªÆ im Sinne des Isokrates, dessen treuen Schu¨ler Ephorus war.’’ And, then looking at the art (1922), 104, paused to contemplate the Ephoran connection—but: ‘‘The scenes of social life are slightly idealized, the types also. Here we can trace the Stoic tendency of Ephorus, who desired to substitute, for the real Scythians, Scythians idealized according to Stoic theory. But the idealization does not go very far. One can see that the Scythians themselves, under Greek inXuence, wished the Greek artists to provide them with objects reproducing Scythian scenes: scenes from their religious, from their economic and social life. Precious documents . . .’’. H.-C. Meyer (2006), ch. IV. 3, provides the historical context for RostovtzeV’s decision to discard the direct connection that he had discovered between Isocratean Athens and the Bosporan treasures. 258 See p. 175 above.

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inhaling cannabis, ‘‘delighted, shouting for joy’’!).259 The Ephoran tradition presents a Wctional Anacharsis writing the following ode to communism to his friend king Croesus of Lydia:260 We hold all our land in common. We take whatever it gives us willingly, and let go whatever it hides. We save our cattle from savage beasts, and receive milk and cheese in return.261

This describes precisely what we Wnd on the silver gilt vessel from the Solokha kurgan (late Wfth/early-fourth century) (Figure 7) with its savage and clearly fantastic hunting scene involving three lions and a

Fig. 7. Solokha cup.

259 See Lucian, Anach.; Hercher (1873), 102–5 (Anacharsidis Epistolae); RostovtzeV (1993), 87; Hdt. 4.75; see Kindstrand (1981), 51–67. 260 See Moreno (forthcoming a). 261 Hercher (1873), 104–5 (Anacharsidis Epistolae, no. 9): ªB   AÆ  : ‹Æ  øØ ,Œ FÆ ºÆ  , ‹Æ Œæ Ø Æ æØ KH :  ŒÆ Æ Ie Ł æ ø "  ªºÆ ŒÆd ıæe I غÆ  . See RostovtzeV (1993), 87.



horned lioness.262 The same is true of the pectoral from Tolstaja Mogila (c.350) (Figure 8), with three groups of griYns attacking horses (on its lowest register), and (on its topmost register) the following scene: . . . two kneeling men stitch a Xeece between them. They have long hair to the shoulders, bare upper bodies, trousers, and shoes. In the Weld above them

Fig. 8. Pectoral from Tolstaja Mogila (detail).

262 Photo of one side only in Althaus and SutcliVe (2006), no. 10, pp. 15, 131; Sokolov (1974), no. 65, p. 75; and Artamonov (1974), pl. 49; of all sides in Piotrovsky et al. (1987), Wgs. 157–60.

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hangs a gorytos, another upon the twisted border beneath. On either side of them is a horse with a foal, one of them nursing. On the other side of the horses are a cow and its calf, one of them nursing. Next follows on each side a kneeling Scythian with a sheep, one of them milking, the other holding an amphora. Beside them are a goat with its young, and, in each corner, a bird.263

This utopian harmony between the Scythian and the animal world, especially his horses, is again advertised on a torque end piece from Kul’-Oba.264 The Scythian’s horse is shown being able to kneel for mounting and dismounting, a domestication vividly illustrated also on scenes from the Chertomlyk amphora (c.340–320).265 A diVerent Scythian virtue appears in Lucian’s Toxaris, with its collection of Wve adventure stories of Scythian friendship: ‘‘Scythians think that there is nothing greater than friendship’’.266 This motto encapsulates three Scythian friendship scenes on an electrum vessel also from the Kul’-Oba kurgan (Figure 9).267 A scene of conversation is complemented by two of healing, the Wrst involving a visibly painful manual tooth operation, the second a leg wound. Spoken dialogue is combined with themes of heroic friendship and an emphasis (in the crouching position of the warriors) on the simplicity of their life and their closeness to nature.268 The shape of the vessel derives from a Scythian ceramic type, but the iconography canonizes the paradigmatic facets of friendship—the cardinal virtue, as it turns out, of the fourth-century Athenian grain supply.269 The same exercise of comparison could almost be continued indeWnitely. The famous fourth-century Chertomlyk-type gorytoi 263 Reeder (1999), no. 172, p. 326 with photos on pp. 327–33; also Piotrovsky et al. (1987), Wgs. 118–21; Rolle et al. (1991), 387–93; cf. Shelov (1975), 208: ‘‘Here for the Wrst time, the everyday life of the Scyths, such as stitching, clothing, and milking sheep, is depicted, not their warrior activities’’ (emphasis mine). 264 Williams and Ogden (1995), no. 81, p. 139; Piotrovsky et al. (1987), Wgs. 126–7. 265 Photos in ibid., Wgs. 265–8; see Rolle et al. (1998). 266 Lucian Tox. 7. See Jaeger (1945), 96: ‘‘Like Theognis in his plan for rearing the young nobleman, Isocrates attaches the greatest importance to the right kind of friendships’’. 267 Alekseyev et al. (1997), no. 74, pp. 169–70; Piotrovsky et al. (1987), Wgs. 184–7; a parallel set of scenes appears on the silver-gilt vessel from the Chastiye barrow, tumulus 3: see ibid., Wgs. 171–3. 268 I owe this part of my interpretation of this piece to H.-C. Meyer (2006), ch. V.3. 269 H.-C. Meyer (ibid.) provides Scythian parallels, but adds: ‘‘the foot is a misinterpretation, betraying the use of furniture and therefore non-nomadic dietary practice’’.



Fig. 9. Kul’-Oba cup.

illustrate not a speciWc Greek or Scythian myth, but instead the ideal of Isocratean paideia: the paradigm of the heroic Greek life from birth to death.270 The mid-fourth-century Gaimanova Mogila silver 270 Piotrovsky et al. (1987), Wgs. 224–5; Reeder (1999), 226–32; Rolle et al. (1991), 395–9; on these pieces, see Treister (1999a); Sta¨hler and Nieswandt (1991–2); paideia is H.-C. Meyer’s interpretation of the gorytos’ iconography (2006: ch. V. 3).

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bowl with its scene of two Scythians reclining not only oVers a striking parallel to fourth-century vase paintings of divine assemblies, but also, beneath the handles, shows one Scythian performing what seems to be ritual prostration (æ Œ Ø) before his masters, and highlighting the contemporary Isocratean concern with the divine nature of the ruler (see below).271 What we Wnd, in short, is a series of fantasies whose context was a fourth-century Athenian grain supply controlled by aristocrats. As RostovtzeV pointed out, Ephoran Scythia survived in Hellenistic and Roman Stoic and Cynic traditions long after Scythia itself had succumbed to Sarmatian invasions. Strabo gives us only hints of the well-deserved thrashing that such idealizations had received at the hands of Eratosthenes of Cyrene and Apollodorus of Athens in the Hellenistic period.272 Strabo himself thought that Homer, and after him Aeschylus, had been right to praise people who abstained ‘‘from living a life of contracts and money-making’’ (K E ı ºÆ Ø ŒÆd fiH IæªıæØfiH "H Æ), and who ‘‘Platonically’’ (—ºÆ ø ØŒH, a telling expression!) possessed everything in common, except sword and drinking-cup.273 And yet Strabo is too knowledgeable about the Black Sea coasts to remain too Wrm a believer in the naive image of an Ephoran Scythian. He reveals the gamut of prejudices, all alive in fourth-century Athens, that informed the Greek and Bosporan students of Isocrates as they created their ideal Scythians: And yet our mode of life has spread its change for the worse to almost all peoples, introducing amongst them luxury and sensual pleasures and, to satisfy these vices, base artiWces that lead to innumerable acts of greed. So then, much wickedness of this sort has fallen on the barbarian peoples also, on the Nomads as well as the rest; for as the result of taking up a seafaring life they not only have become morally worse, indulging in the practice of piracy and of slaying strangers, but also, because of their intercourse with many peoples, have partaken of the luxury and the peddling habits of those peoples. But though these things seem to conduce strongly to gentleness

271 For the date, see Alekseyev (2005), 46; Piotrovsky et al. (1987), Wgs. 166–70; Rolle et al. (1991), 373–7; I follow H.-C. Meyer’s study and interpretation of the iconography of this piece (2006), ch. V.3. 272 Strab. 7.3.7; RostovtzeV (1993), 87. 273 Strab. 7.3.7.



of manner, they corrupt morals and introduce cunning instead of the straightforwardness which I just now mentioned.274

Aside from the sheer and enduring power that such antipathy to the corrupting sea drew from the rhetorical and philosophical schools of antiquity, Ephorus may have been canonized, as RostovtzeV suggests, because the ‘‘real’’ Scythians disappeared virtually as he wrote: none was left for a legitimate ethnographer, another Herodotus, to study and to document.275 But one wonders how much Scythian nobles themselves, avid consumers of Bosporan art that their kurgan inventories show them to have been, did not also reinvent themselves according to the Ephoran model, and thus become an example of life imitating art. This is, in fact, what the Bosporan aristocracy seems to have done increasingly. We have already seen one of the sons of Paerisades leading his troops according to the custom of the Scythians (ŒÆŁæ K d ŒŁÆØ Ø ).276 A similar detail is attached to his brother Eumelus (only here it is death that imitates art!): As he was returning home from Sindice and was hurrying for a sacriWce, riding to his palace in a four-horse carriage which had four wheels and a canopy, it happened that the horses were frightened and ran away with him. Since the driver was unable to manage the reins, the king, fearing lest he be carried to the ravines, tried to jump out; but his sword caught in the wheel, and he was dragged along by the motion of the carriage and died on the spot.277

And, of course, the ultimate example of art in death: the reinvention of the Scythian kurgan, and its combination, as Ephorus would have done for his ‘‘justest and wisest’’ Scythians, with the hero shrines (æfiHÆ) and corbelled tombs of heroic/Mycenaean princes (see Figure 4).278 Transforming a state by educating its leaders, the paideia of Isocrates succeeded brilliantly in Bosporus. We have seen the evidence that the Bosporan combination of archonship and monarchy was 274 Strab. 7.3.7. 275 RostovtzeV (1993), 89. 276 See p. 178 above. 277 Diod. 20.25.4 (Loeb trans.). 278 See Moreno (forthcoming a); p. 182 above. On the study and re-use of Mycenaean tombs for heroic cult in the Classical period, see Boardman (2002), 52–67. Cf. Minns (1913), 194, with RostovtzeV (1922), 78; I would not be surprised if the monumental fourth-century burials at Cerameicus described by Ba¨bler (2005), 118–20, one a painted stele, the other a sculptural group of two Scythians, belonged to members of the Bosporan elite who died at Athens (not, as Ba¨bler suggests, to the ‘‘commander-in-chief of the police force’’).

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introduced during the rule of Leucon.279 This oligarchic/monarchic Doppelnatur would, in Isocrates’ view, have assimilated the Spartocidae to the gods themselves: ‘‘the Carthaginians and the Lacedaemonians, who are the best governed peoples of the world, are ruled by oligarchies at home, yet, when they take the Weld, they are ruled by kings . . . [as] even the gods are ruled by Zeus as king’’.280 Even better, every Bosporan aristocrat had access to the ennobling ‘‘history’’ of a Homeric Scythia and its models (ÆæÆ ªÆ Æ) of conduct, and could therefore become, as Jaeger says of Isocrates’ ideal monarch, ‘‘the representative of his people’s culture, the visible embodiment of the character of his state’’.281 In the words of Isocrates, writing as the Cyprian king Nicocles: I was not, of course, unaware that those kings also are highly thought of by the multitude who are just in their dealings with their citizens, even though they provide themselves with pleasures from outside their households; but I desired both to put myself as far above such suspicions as possible and at the same time to set up my conduct as a pattern (ÆæتÆ) to my people, knowing that the multitude are likely to spend their lives in practices in which they see their rulers occupied.282

The same yearning to recover moral historical exempla drove the student of Isocrates, whether he was a Bosporan commissioning work from a Panticapaean artist, or an Androtion writing an Atthis, to look back to the traditions of his ancestors, whether more or less imagined or studied, ‘‘to be mindful of the past’’ ( a Ææº ºıŁ Æ   Ø ).283 And, on Androtion’s decree displayed in Piraeus, the sons of Leucon, each looking the part of a wise and divine Anacharsis, justest of men, kings of Bosporus, were themselves good men (IªÆŁ ), paradigms of excellence (Iæ ), great benefactors, Isocratean ‘‘models for others to copy’’ (see Frontispiece).284 279 See pp. 173–83 above. H.-C. Meyer (2006), ch. V.2, has the interesting idea that designating monocratic authority as an archonship is the result of a contemporary idealization of Athens’ own patrios politeia. 280 Isoc. 3.24–6 (Loeb trans.). 281 Jaeger (1945), 100. 282 Isoc. 3.37 (Loeb trans.). 283 Isoc. 2.35; Jaeger (1945), 118. 284 IG II2 212 ¼ GHI II 64; for my detailed interpretation of this relief see Chapter 5, pp. 264–8; the quote is from Jaeger (1945), 100.



In real life the students of Isocrates were not necessarily so edifying. One of them, Clearchus of Heracleia Pontica (364–352), displayed patterns of conduct that his Spartocid neighbours would have recognized thanks to their days with Isocrates.285 Having studied four years under the master, not only did Clearchus proclaim himself the son of Zeus,286 but also: . . . when he went out in public a golden eagle was borne before him as a symbol of his lineage, and he put on purple clothes, the boots worn by kings in tragedy and a golden crown. Moreover, he named his son Keraunos [thunderbolt], making a mockery of the gods in his selection of names as well as his own pretensions.287

The great irony of the ideology of despotic rule that took root in Panticapaeum and Heracleia is that it developed in Athens, alongside and within one that was democratic, or at least professed to be so. Almost as ironic is that it developed a moralizing, philosophic myth of aristocratic detachment from money-making and applied it to the very class of men, a Bosporan elite and their Athenian friends, who ran an overseas trading empire. The men who idealized the Scythians, as the Bosporans idealized them, were potentially the greatest enemies of Athenian democracy, and yet the Bosporans could be presented in Athens as democratic benefactors: it did not matter, for example, that Plato could use the same Scythian exempla that appear in Bosporan art to show that courage was not the monopoly of a hoplite state.288 In Laches, Plato has Socrates refute a fundamental tenet of the Greek hoplite state (and Athenian democracy), namely the conventional idea that courage meant to Wght while standing Wrmly in rank, by citing (alongside Homer’s Aeneas, and the Spartans at the battle of Plataea) the Scythians, who ‘‘are said to Wght as much Xeeing as pursuing’’.289 Similarly, the glory of the heroic knight in combat Wnds golden expression on the miniature monument to aristocratic power that is the Solokha comb (Figure 10).290 285 Burstein (1976), 47–66. 286 Memnon FGrHist 434 F1. 287 Justin 16.5.9–11 (Yardley trans.). See H.-C. Meyer (2006), ch. V.2, whom I thank for bringing these passages to my attention. 288 See Moreno (forthcoming a). 289 Lach. 191a–c. 290 Alekseyev et al. (1997), no. 24, p. 103; Piotrovsky et al. (1987), Wgs. 128–9. On aristocrats and their long hair, see further Chapter 5, pp. 264–8.

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Fig. 10. Solokha comb.

Was it inconsistent that the ‘‘democratic’’ sons of Leucon were praised by Androtion, the son of one of the four hundred men who overthrew the Athenian democracy in 411? Athenian rhetoric produced the brilliant sleights of hand that made these little contradictions disappear: the transformation of kings and oligarchs into



democrats, and of economic proWt into disrepute. But that is the subject of Chapter 5.

I I I . C O N C LU S I O N We have studied the problem of the Athenian grain supply from the Black Sea from a strictly qualitative point of view. Let us now very briefly turn to the quantitative side. Athenian aristocrats were instrumental in the process of ideologizing, and thus of perpetuating, a royal economy that could supply ample amounts of grain to Athens. Two things only were needed to ensure the stability of this system: the goodwill of the Bosporan kings, and Athenian control of the route between Panticapaeum and Piraeus. As long as Athenian aristocrats could provide this, Athens would have grain, and they would have political power. In a royal economy, the archaeology of balance of payments is useless and misleading: the Wat of the monarch sweeps aside costs, price, and availability.291 This was a political calculus which meant that ships bound for Athens were loaded with grain at Panticapaeum free of tax while others waited or, in years of scarcity, were turned away empty.292 We need not depend on the pots imported to Panticapaeum in cancellation of the quantities of grain arriving in Piraeus, or the buried Athenian drachmae or Cyzicene staters.293 Without 291 See Rosivach (2000), 43, illuminating on Atheno-Bosporan trade as a traditional economy, based on ‘‘just’’ price (see also below Chapter 5, pp. 214 n. 10, 216, 220); and on Cleomenes, pp. 231, 233, 291, 297–8. 292 Dem. 20.31; Isoc. 17.57; see Rosivach (2000), 41 on the tax-exemption; Bresson (1994), 131–49, demonstrates that documentation carried on board, abundant in Greek trade, was used to determine where a ship was bound. 293 See Kuznetsov (2000), 112 n. 8, 115 (arguing from calculations of carrying capacity of Bosporus that it could hardly feed its own population), 116 (wine and oil paid for the grain occasionally imported from Bosporus); Rosivach (2000), 43–4 n. 38: explaining away ‘‘a devastating national trade imbalance’’; Tsetskhladze (1998a), 58– 63: ‘‘. . . the export of Athenian pottery to the Black Sea could not discharge the cost of the grain imported by Athens from there . . . At the same time Demosthenes was receiving bribes from the Bosporan kings to overestimate the volume of imported grain from the Bosporan kingdom . . . both ancient authors and modern scholars have exaggerated the importance of the grain trade, especially that with the Pontus, in the economy of Athens’’; Vickers and Gill (1994): ‘‘If these imports [of grain] were paid for with Attic red-Wgure bell-craters (among the largest pots) costing 4.5 obols apiece,

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any evidence from excavation at the port and lower town of Panticapaeum, buried today under modern Kertch, any reliance on the absence of these products to fuel scepticism about Athenian trade with the Bosporan kingdom constitutes the weakest possible argumentum ex silentio. The positive evidence, on the other hand, could not be clearer. The Wgures of the yearly quantities of imported grain can be plainly read in Demosthenes and Strabo. Demosthenes gives approximately 400,000 medimnoi per year from the Bosporan kingdom alone.294 Strabo says that Leucon sent 2,100,000 medimnoi from Theodosia to Athens;295 that equals about 260,000 medimnoi per year in the eight years between the opening of that port shortly before 355296 and the death of Leucon in 349/8.297 These Wgures Wnd independent corroboration in two other sources: Wrst, if in 340 Philip captured at Hieron 180 or 230 ships bound for Athens with grain, and the average capacity of a merchant ship was 3,000 medimnoi, these ships could have contained at least 540,000 medimnoi.298 some 2,589,189 such vessels would have been required per annum’’; Burstein (1978): ‘‘Although Athens’ need to import foreign grain steadily increased during the fourth century, Soviet archaeologists have established that there was no parallel steady increase in the importation of goods into Bosporus’’; Isager and Hansen (1975), 165: ‘‘. . . not a single Athenian ‘owl’ has been found along the coasts of the Black Sea, a most remarkable fact since the Bosporan Kingdom was the most important trading partner of Athens in the fourth century’’; Ehrhardt (1988), 76–9; Scho¨nert-Geiss (1971), 105–17; Shelov (1949), 97; Figueira (1998), 31–48 correctly, in my view, stresses the factor of gravitation of Greek coins back to their areas of production, unless they stray outside the region of their validity as coinage (e.g. in Egypt, where they become bullion). 294 Dem. 20.32. See Chapter 1, p. 32 n. 35. 295 Strab. 7.4.6. 296 See p. 176 above. 297 Kocevalov (1932), 321–3, pointed out this division, but he gets 420,000– 350,000 medimnoi per year, taking 355/4 and 349/8 as the end-points. 298 See Philochorus FGrHist 328 F162, Theopompus FGrHist 115 F292, both preserved in Didymus Demosthenes cols. 10.34–11.5. On the quantities of grain involved, see Whitby (1998), 124–5. The general Chares, who was responsible for the convoy, was absent. Was he negligent? Outright blame is out of the question, but to excuse him by saying that the Peace of Philocrates was still in force (even if only slenderly) misses the point (cf. Hammond and GriYth (1979), 575: ‘‘It was not a good moment, this, for Chares to have left his squadron in order to confer with Persian commanders, admirable though the concept of a concerted strategy must seem’’). The reason why Chares was away was the same that made Hieron the appropriate site for the marshalling of convoys of merchantmen, or that prevented the stationing of customs oYcials: it was the status of Hieron as a sanctuary, giving it



If around 350 Mytilene was importing more than 100,000 medimnoi from the Bosporan kingdom, it is to be expected that Athens imported much more.299 In conclusion, in the context of a royal economy, there is no reason to doubt any of these mutually corroborating and independent Wgures as exaggerated. a divine guarantee of Iıº Æ. Chares obviously did not expect Philip, a man notoriously sensitive to religious procedure (whether genuinely or not is beside the point), to commit such blatant sacrilege. This reasoning lies behind Didymus’ description of the seizure as Philip’s ‘‘most lawless act’’, e ÆæÆ  Æ æª , and a similar portrayal by Demosthenes no doubt constituted a powerful Athenian justiWcation in smashing the stelai recording the Peace of Philocrates and oYcially going to war against the barbarian Philip (see Dem. 18.73). There was, however, a basic mitigating aspect to the seizure: Philip could likewise accuse the Athenians of impiously using a common sanctuary as a base to provision his declared enemy, the city of Selymbria (see Wu¨st (1938), 132). Accordingly, he released Wfty of the 230 captured ships as neutral, a gesture meant to portray the Athenians as the real violators of the sacrosanctity of the sanctuary and its port. On the site, history, and archaeology of Hieron, see Dionysius of Byzantium, GGM II pp. 1 ff.; Moreno (forthcoming b). 299 Tod II 163.

Part III Literature

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5 Bread and Politics: The Ideology of the Grain Supply in Athenian Rhetoric The surviving corpus of Attic oratory is the major source of textual evidence for the history of the Athenian grain supply. Almost all of our information regarding the personnel involved, the quantities imported, the applicable laws, and other essential details, comes from speeches composed and delivered before large public audiences in Athens from the end of the Wfth century to the end of the fourth. Each surviving speech had an independent value (as a model of rhetorical composition, as propaganda, as literature, etc.), so that publication (and, in some known cases, revision) followed performance. Even so, the resulting texts retain their original nature as public addresses. Recognizing this fact is essential, since it means that instead of constructing a historical model of the Athenian grain supply by excerpting, analyzing, and re-assembling these scattered pieces of information, our goal should be to understand their nature and role as parts of arguments designed and deployed by Athenian orators in order to persuade masses of listeners. Our initial concern should be less with interpreting truth and fact than with identifying individual arguments, then recurring types of arguments and counterarguments. Error or Wction (particularly if detectable) is in fact equally valuable for this purpose. IdentiWed types of argumentation reveal the strategy and the unexpressed intentions of the speaker, the mentality as well as the assumptions he shares with his audience. They thereby illuminate the underlying historical reality, even if (or especially when) they also try to conceal it.



‘‘Moral character’’ should be the starting point for a study of argumentation. Aristotle and other Greek writers of rhetorical treatises1 considered ethos the strongest proof of all.2 And, given the particular characteristics of Athenian litigation, Dover is right in stressing the importance of adopting and assigning popularly identiWable moral roles in arguments addressed to an Athenian jury.3 Analyzing how speakers characterize both themselves and their opponents reveals the multitude of preconceptions and prejudices of the average Athenian juror. In connection with the grain trade, it is striking how greatly these stereotypes or personae are based not on ideologies particular to that activity (or even to trade in general), but instead on certain popular notions of social behaviour that are common to the full range of Attic oratory. While it is therefore possible and useful to compile a set of characteristics rhetorically associated with the grain trade, these would remain historically meaningless until we identiWed their relation to the much broader argumentative patterns just suggested. How do grain-dealers, for example, compare rhetorically with other traders, with tax-collectors, with politicians, with generals, with foreigners, with the rich, with the poor, etc.? It is only when we ask these broader questions that we can begin to approach historical reality. To some extent this study of rhetorical interaction between Athenian mass and elite methodologically follows the important work of 1 Aristotle divides rhetorical proof (  Ø) into three types: Wrst, that which creates a favourable ethos for the speaker; second, that which elicits the desired emotions from his audience; and third, that which results in a logical demonstration, either by example or enthymeme (Rhet. 1356a1–b11). This classiWcation of ethos as a type of proof only in connection with the speaker implies that arguments creating an unfavourable ethos for the speaker’s opponent are part of the second category of proof. Aristotle acknowledges that this second type of proof is the most useful in forensic oratory (1377b28–31), but complains of its prominence in previous treatises by others, as dealing too much with matters foreign to the case (1354a11–31). 2 Arist. Rhet. 1356a13: ŒıæØø  Ø   Ø e qŁ . See Rhet. 1417a16–b10. 3 Dover (1974), 5–6: ‘‘Since witnesses were not cross-examined and the jury received no objective guidance on points of law, it was of the utmost importance that the speaker should adopt a persona which would convey a good impression. He could not aVord to express or imply beliefs or principles which were likely to be oVensive to the jury; at the same time, it was important that he should impose a discreditable persona upon his adversary. For this reason forensic oratory should be treated as our main source of data on popular morality.’’

Bread and Politics


Ober.4 I especially agree with him that the ideologies articulated in oratory cannot be seen as the unilateral creation of an elite.5 I am, however, unpersuaded by his conclusion (essentially the opposite variant of elite unilateralism), namely ‘‘that the masses controlled the upper classes through ideological means’’.6 My focus is not, in short, on rhetoric as a possible quasi-constitutional democratic phenomenon, but instead on the ‘‘vocabulary of topoi and images’’ associated with the principal actors in the Athenian grain supply.7 I begin with grain-dealers (Ø HºÆØ), wheat-dealers (ıæ HºÆØ), and kapeloi (a problematic term), and move on to merchants ( æ Ø) and shipowners ( ÆŒº æ Ø), but magistrates, private lenders, foreign kings, and (especially) Athenian politicians, enter our picture constantly.


A. Grain-Dealers Grain-dealers (Ø HºÆØ) are regarded in modern scholarship as an identiWable class of persons engaged in the particular business of retailing grain in Athens. They are assumed generally to have been low-class metics acting as small middlemen (Œ º Ø) between importers ( æ Ø) and the Athenian consumer.8 Their numbers are regarded as considerable, if despite their poverty they were capable by themselves of purchasing, storing, and reselling most (if not all) of the considerable amounts of grain arriving in the Piraeus.9 They were subject to the supervision of ‘‘grain guardians’’ (Ø ºÆŒ), oYcials who could forbid them to ‘‘buy together’’ (ıæ ÆŁÆØ: for 4 See Ober (1989), 35–52. 5 Ibid. 40. 6 Ibid. 339. 7 See ibid. 338. 8 Wilamowitz-Mo¨llendorV (1893), vol. 2, 378: ‘‘da galt es mit den importeuren gut zu stehn, und ihnen opferte man zwar nicht den Anytos, aber wol die kleinen getreideha¨ndler,  ØŒ Ø ¼ Łæø Ø (was jene auch waren) und Œ º Ø (was diese nicht waren, wenn man sie gewa¨hren liess, wie Anytos)’’; Hasebroek (1933), 7; Ehrenberg (1962), 132, ‘‘. . . they formed a unique and most important group of middlemen’’; Figueira (1986), 171, ‘‘Their political status would, of course, have been metic’’. 9 See Figueira (1986), 156–9, 170, for a full articulation of this assumption.



what this means, see below) more than Wfty measures of grain expressed in baskets ( æ ); and were also bound, either by separate law, or by periodic ad hoc regulation of the grain guardians, to limit their proWt to a certain amount.10 It was from them that the vast majority of Athenians purchased grain in processed form.11 They were weak and made suitable scapegoats in diYcult times.12 However, this type of glossary deWnition is not only demonstrably problematic in many respects,13 but also overlooks the fact that no other group associated with the grain trade in the surviving corpus of oratory receives a treatment more limited and one-sided than the grain-dealers. The methodological dangers of culling data from oratorical sources should be most apparent here. The grain-dealers appear in a single source (Lysias 22: Against the Grain-Dealers), a short and devastating prosecutorial masterpiece penned in a style that appears more deliberately obscure and ambiguous than normal, particularly through the absence of a narration.14 The purpose of the piece is to sketch as prejudicial a portrayal of the 10 Lysias only says E ªaæ ÆP f O ºfiH  øºE ØØ æ (22.8), without reference to a particular law. Stanton nevertheless takes this for a law setting a maximum proWt of 1 obol per  æ (1985: 122–3); Rhodes, following Bo¨ckh [1817], instead tacitly prefers 1 obol per Ø  (1993: 578); there is no way to be sure who is right, and the diVerence may not matter if, as Pritchett suggests, one  æ equals one medimnos (1993: 194–5; see n. 18 below). However, this equation depends on the interpretation of æÆfiB ØØ æ (22.12) as ‘‘at a proWt of a drachma’’, which Stanton convincingly shows is incorrect; its clear meaning in context is that the price of grain ‘‘rose by as much as a drachma’’ in a single day, as if the grain-dealers were purchasing it piecemeal from the importers (1985: 122–3). Figueira (1986: 162–4) makes the altogether diVerent, and attractive, suggestion that a precise limitation on proWts was not embodied in a law, but periodically established by the Ø ºÆŒ, who ‘‘saw to it that grain sold with an appropriate mark-up calculated from its current price in the emporion’’, as part of their broad legal mandate (according to Ath. Pol. 51, see Wilamowitz-Mo¨llendorV (1893), vol. 1, 219 n. 63) to see to it that unground grain (E  Iæª) was sold ‘‘justly’’ (ØŒÆ ø); cf. Rosivach (2000), 49 nn. 56–7. 11 Ibid. 44–5. 12 Wilamowitz-Mo¨llendorV (1893), vol. 2, 378 (quoted in n. 8 above); Figueira (1986), 171; Rosivach (2000), 48. 13 For example, if the Ø HºÆØ were weak, how could they appear as a believable threat to the city? If they were poor and numerous, how could they appear as a distinct class? If the amounts they bought were regulated, why would there be need of the additional step of limiting their proWt margin? 14 Lysias’ frequent use of narrative for purposes of characterization is recognized as a distinctive aspect of his technique: see Usher (1999), 117.

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grain-dealers, while omitting as much factual detail about the case, as possible. The motive for this reticence is suggested by the defendants’ contention (anticipated by Lysias) that they had acted under the express orders of the grain guardians.15 The countering of this justiWcation with mere denials shows to what extent an open examination of the facts could seriously damage the prosecution’s argument.16 Also conspicuously absent from the speech is any mention of the number or names of the accused, and this despite the total irregularity already presented in their being tried en masse.17 This omission, too, has a purpose, namely the prejudicial implication that their guilt was so manifest that every normal procedure could be set aside. They are cast as an undiVerentiated mass of nameless villains deserving all the less pity from the jurors. The attack on the grain-dealers begins with a procatalepsis, a rapid volley of assumed responses to leading questions that establish: (1) that they are metics; (2) that metics are allowed to reside in Athens in order that, and so long as, they obey Athenian law; and (3) that because they violated the nomos forbidding the ‘‘buying-together’’ (ıæ ÆŁÆØ) of more than Wfty baskets ( æ ) of grain, they should be put to death.18 The speaker is thus able to urge the jury simply to apply the law to an easy set of uncontested facts: 15 Lys. 22.5: ¯ªg H Iæ ø Œºı ø ı æØ . It is likely that this defence had already been used eVectively before the  ıº, persuading it to vote a trial for the grain-dealers. The speaker’s claim that he had persuaded the  ıº that the laws required the defendants to be tried is therefore probably an exaggeration, since the latter had the power to order execution without trial in cases where the defendant confessed K ÆP æfiø (see Harrison (1968–71), vol. 1, 207; Todd (1993), 79–81), and ‘‘the case is still handled unconstitutionally in so far as all the corndealers are put on trial collectively’’ (Hansen (1975), 118). 16 Lys. 22.8–9. 17 Hansen (1975), 118. 18 The technique of ‘‘leading question’’, e ıæÆÆ Kæø A (literally ‘‘to put a conclusion as a question’’) is considered by Arist. Rhet. 1419a20–b2 a dangerous one since it invites justiWcatory replies like that of the grain-dealer. However, the way it is used by Lysias here (hypophora: Usher (1999), 366) shows that it can be a prejudicial and alienating (and thus eVective) vehicle for procatalepsis. Lysias is anticipating what the defendants will argue, probably based on what they have already said before the  ıº. Pritchett (1956), 194–8, thinks a  æ was the same as a Ø  (following Bo¨ckh [1817]), while Gauthier (1981), 22–3, that it was the capacity of a mule-pannier. Pritchett is clearly wrong, as he himself points out (p. 195): ‘‘we should not fail to add, however, that whereas vetch, lentils, and wheat were sold by the phormos in [Stele] II, 91–3, barley was sold by the medimnos in the following entry’’.



This accusation of mine should have suYced, gentlemen of the jury, since this man acknowledges that he bought together the grain, while the law clearly forbids it, and you have sworn to decide in accordance with the laws.19

In fact, as we have already suggested in connection with the graindealers’ anticipated defence, this simplicity is only an illusion. The law itself is presented in a strikingly imprecise manner aimed at excusing the magistrates while condemning the defendants. It has been suggested that this obscurity is Lysias’ own rhetorical artiWce.20 However, it is unlikely that Lysias would have rested the weight of his main argument on an ambiguity that his opponents could easily defeat merely by quoting the unambiguous words of the law. A likelier explanation is that it was of little practical consequence to Lysias’ client, to the grain-dealers, or to the Athenian jury whether the technical meaning of the ambiguous verb ıæ ÆŁÆØ (‘‘to buy together’’) was ‘‘to buy to accumulate’’ (i.e. to hoard) or ‘‘to buy in a cartel’’ (i.e. to monopolize),21 and this could be the case only if the law itself was ambiguous. Ambiguity may, in fact, be viewed as a characteristic of Athenian law on the grain supply.22 The broad mandate of the grain guardians of ensuring that unground grain (E  Iæª) was sold ‘‘justly’’ (ØŒÆ ø) is one example of this, which is reXected later in the provision of the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 that the demos (sitting in the Assembly) set the price of grain.23 The law applied in Lysias 22

19 Lys. 22.7 (rev. Loeb trans.). 20 Seager (1966), 175–6. See Tuplin (1986), 495–8. 21 But cf. the ongoing debate between Seager (1966), 173–7, and Figueira (1986), 159 (see also 170); also Rosivach (2000), 46–7; Todd (1993), 316–20, does not express a preference for either of these options. Harrison (1968–72), vol. 2, 26, seems altogether confused when he states that the law in Lysias 22 ‘‘imposed the death penalty for selling more than Wfty phormoi; presumably this meant a limit on sales in any one day’’ (emphasis added), for the notion of selling is not conveyed at all by ı ø EŁÆØ or ıæ ÆŁÆØ. See also Tuplin (1986), 495. 22 Indeed, it may even be viewed as a characteristic of law in many periods and places, even our own society: see Endicott (2000). 23 For the Ø ºÆŒ, see n. 10 above. The Grain-Tax Law: GHI II 26, ll. 44–51 (see Appendix 3), with Stroud’s commentary (1998), 73–4. On ‘‘just’’ price, see Rosivach (2000), 43. I use the phrases ‘‘sitting in the Assembly (KŒŒº  Æ)’’ and ‘‘sitting in a

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allowed the demos (sitting in a Court) similar wide latitude to decide which type of ‘‘buying together’’ it was just to punish or to condone. This freedom would accord well with the fundamental role contemporary theory assigned to ambiguity in the laws of a democracy. After making the famous statement that the demos gains control of the polis only when it gains control of the courts, the pseudo-Aristotelian Constitution of the Athenians tells us that: . . . because his [viz. Solon’s] laws were not written simply and clearly, but were like the law on inheritance and heiresses, it was inevitable that many disputes should arise and that the jury-court should decide all things public and private. Some people think that he made his laws unclear deliberately, in order that the power of decision should rest with the demos.24

We later hear that the abolition of the above-mentioned law on inheritance and heiresses was one of the Wrst acts of the Thirty Tyrants in 404, and that ‘‘they annulled the laws of Solon which left scope for disagreement, and the discretionary power which was left to jurors’’.25 Like the author of the Ath. Pol., Aristotle must have considered this a move towards ordered government: in the opening of his Rhetoric we see him criticizing ambiguous laws that give discretion to juries to judge identical cases diVerently, under impulses of love, hate, or personal interest; Plato had similar opinions, likewise against the kind of laws that prevailed in contemporary democratic Athens.26 The testimony of Aristotle, reXected in the oratorical corpus, shows that Athenian law operated as one kind of proof rather than as a technical basis compelling a particular judgement: it was evidentiary

Court (ØŒÆ æØ )’’ very consciously, to signal my strong disbelief of views of Athenian democracy (like M. H. Hansen’s) that imply a quasi-modern division of constitutional power into diVerent institutions. It was clear to the Athenians that the power of the demos could not be so divided, and was in fact monarchic: see Arist. Pol. 1292a with Headlam (1933), and pp. 306–7 below. 24 [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 9.2 (Rhodes trans.). 25 [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 35.2 (Rhodes trans.). 26 Arist. Rhet. 1354a–b; Plato, Plt. 294a10–295a7. See Rhodes (1993), 162.



rather than normative.27 The literal enforcement of law in Athens, although invariably urged by pleaders when legalism was favourable (as in this case and many others we shall encounter),28 was weakened not only by its evidentiary status, but also by a very powerful notion of equity ( e KØØŒ) that served (as in modern legal systems) as a ‘‘rectiWcation of legal justice’’ (KÆ æŁøÆ   ı ØŒÆ ı).29 Athenian equity concentrated particularly on services to the community rendered by the parties to the case.30 Thus, even if technically guilty on either or both interpretations of the law in this case, the grain-dealers could still win by presenting non-legal evidence to the jury (as they had probably done to the Council) that they had acted ‘‘in kindness to the city’’ (K P fi Æ B ºø) (11: the second procatalepsis of Lysias’ speech, using the striking vocabulary of benefaction). The sidelining of a statutory basis in Athenian judicial decisions made Athenian law ‘‘an instrument of democratic rule’’.31 We might therefore say that arguments on purely legalistic grounds are little more than red herrings in Athenian rhetoric: even in lawsuits where legalism appears, the ultimate battle is always fought in the realm of equity, where ethos and the emotions it elicits are allpowerful.32 More important still is the conclusion that, like parts of the grain law, Athenian perceptions of grain-dealers must have been ambiguous, and hence much more complex than previously thought. This seems the best way to explain why Lysias abandons legalism halfway through the speech and engages in the ruthless characterization that dominates the rest (11 V.). The defendants have already been cast as aliens undeserving even of a name and legal process. Now comes the attack on their claimed role as benefactors. Lysias appeals to the common sense and experience of the jurors:33 Wrst, a true benefaction would have resulted in a stable price, whereas the price of the grain 27 Arist. Rhet. 1375a22–5: see Harrison (1968–71), vol. 2, 133–5. Gernet, Paoli, and more recently Todd and Yunis emphasize this point: see Todd (1993), 58–60; Yunis (2005), 200; Lanni (2006), 73. 28 Arist. Rhet. 1375b16–25; compare 1375a25–b15: when the law did not favour one’s case, one should appeal to ‘‘universal’’ (i.e. natural) law and equity ( fiH Œ Ø fiH

fiø æ   ŒÆd E KØØŒØ ). 29 Arist. Eth. Nic. 1137b11–1138a4; Rhet. ibid.; see J. W. Jones (1956), 64–7. 30 Dover (1974), 292–5. 31 Yunis (2005), 197. 32 See n. 1 above. 33 Lys. 22.12: ı H !A æ ıæÆ Ææ ÆØ.

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sold by the defendants sometimes rose by as much as a drachma in one day; second, a true benefaction would have been performed publicly, like a special contribution (N æ), not in secret and by people who claim to be poor ( Æ æ Æ " ÆØ).34 The implication that the defendants are in fact proWteers, organized in a cabal, and hiding their wealth, is expanded in the sections following another appeal to the juror’s prejudices.35 The defendants proWt most whenever bad news reach Athens, and they are either the Wrst to get this news, or themselves fabricate it. They seem to know everything about the grain trade, aware of merchantmen sinking in the Black Sea or falling to Lacedaemonians. Rumours on the closure of overseas trading posts and the dissolution of treaties, all information and disinformation relating to trade, are in the hands of the defendants, who, like the city’s foreign enemies ( ƒ  ºØ Ø), never fail to seize the best opportunities to harm Athens.36 The defendants are enemies of such prodigious wealth that they can monopolize all grain in moments of crisis, extort money from the hungry and helpless populace, and (continuing the metaphor of war) besiege the city even in peacetime.37 That Lysias veers from explicitly calling the defendants rich (º Ø Ø) shows how very close this speech, with all its triggering of popular paranoias, comes to the limit of the believable; but we are told that their proWts are so great that they willingly risk their lives in breaking the law every day.38 As proof of their formidable power and endless intrigues the speaker presents the fact that while for the control of all other merchants the Athenians appoint market supervisors (Iª æÆ  Ø), to police the defendants they have to choose a special board of grain czars, the grain guardians (Ø ºÆŒ).39 Who, in this case, were the victims of this international maWa? At the end of the speech we are vaguely told of some citizens who 34 Lys. 22.12. 35 Lys. 22.13: ŒÆ Ø   K  ÆŁ ‹ Ø  Ø lŒØ Æ æ ŒØ Ø  ı  ØEŁÆØ ºª ı. 36 Lys. 22.14. 37 Lys. 22.15. 38 Lys. 22.20. 39 Lys. 22.16. On the function of these magistrates, see Appendix 4; Gauthier (1981), 5–28.



supposedly died from hunger (whom the jurors are brieXy told to pity and avenge). But the speaker places much more insistence on helping the importers ( ƒ  æ Ø, ƒ Nº ) against whom the defendants combined, and who would be gratiWed and rendered more eager to import grain by a vote to convict.40 This, together with the Wnal argument of the speech (that a conviction will both do justice and result in cheaper grain), presents the importers in a highly positive light. The jury has already been told that the price of grain rose through competition among the grain-dealers; but Lysias conveniently leaves out the fact that competition and high prices are also (in fact, principally) in the interest of the importers.41 It is only when the grain-dealers coordinate their eVorts and begin to buy grain at lower prices (as the grain guardians in fact urged them to) that the importers are hurt.42 Our speech therefore encourages the extraordinary notion, very favourable to the importers, that the absence of a co-coordinated group of grain-dealers would result in cheaper grain (IØ æ  E ) for Athens.43

B. Wheat-Dealers Wheat (ıæ) appears in several speeches as a type of bribe used to corrupt Athenian politicians. Demosthenes accuses Philocrates and Aeschines of receiving from Philip houses ( NŒ Æ), timber (ºÆ), and wheat (ıæ ).44 Demosthenes, in turn, is accused in a speech by Dinarchus of receiving from the ‘‘tyrants of Pontus’’ a thousand medimnoi of wheat every year.45 SigniWcantly, Demosthenes presents Philocrates as using this wheat, not for his own consumption, but for his enrichment by becoming a wheat-dealer (ıæ øºE ).46 This

40 Lys. 22.17, 21. 41 Lys. 22.8–9. 42 Ibid. 43 Lys. 22.22; at a ‘‘cheaper’’ or ‘‘juster’’ price, or are the two equivalent? See Rosivach (2000), 43, with Chapter 4, p. 206 n. 291 and pp. 214, 216, and n. 10 above. 44 Dem. 19.145. 45 Din. 1.43. 46 Dem. 19.114. Hasebroek’s theory (1933), 117, that this type of trade was for selfconsumption is thus shown to be false. This should also be obvious from the quantities delivered to Demosthenes, which are certainly too great for one household.

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is depicted as a lucrative business alongside timber-importing (ıº ªE ), house-building ( NŒ  E , presumably using the imported timber, hence the meaning of Philip’s gift of ‘‘houses’’), and large-scale absentee land-owning and farming in the countries conquered by Philip.47 The portrayal of people like Demosthenes, Aeschines, and Philocrates as engaged in wheat-dealing, among the other trades just mentioned, should be crucial for undermining the still widely accepted distinction between the daily grind of grain-dealers and the business of elite Athenian politicians. Wheat-dealing is mentioned nowhere else in the oratorical corpus,48 but it is compatible with a diversity of similar economic activities imputed to, and avowed by, members of wealthy Athenian families. Andocides tells us that he used his privileges with King Archelaus of Macedon to sell oars to the Athenian navy as merchant ( æ ) and shipowner ( ÆŒº æ ).49 The father of Demosthenes produced swords and couches in his two factories, whose respective inventories of iron and ivory he also used for sale as raw materials ‘‘to anyone else who wished to buy’’.50 The rest of his stock, wood, gall-nut dye, and copper, would probably be sold in the same way.51 We should not doubt that people like Andocides, Demosthenes, Philocrates, and Aeschines normally proWted from their connections with overseas kingdoms as sellers of timber and wheat. Because wheat is a type of grain (E ), it logically follows that some Athenian politicians were grain-dealers. However, in the accusations of Demosthenes and Dinarchus, wheat is implicitly marked oV from normal grain as a sign of the invidious and conspicuous wealth of the seller (and thus presumably also of the buyer). Wheat is a kind of luxury import, and thus Lysias 22 cannot point to poor Athenians starving from lack of wheat.52 Except for this unsurprising detail (wheat is dealt by the wealthy), it 47 Dem. 19.114, 145; see also 18.41 on Aeschines. 48 With one exception: [Dem.] 34.39. See below, p. 290. 49 Andoc. 2.11. 50 Dem. 27.32. 51 Dem. 27.10. 52 This situation had apparently changed considerably by 327/6. See pp. 290, 294, below.



is striking how closely the depiction of the grain-dealers in Lysias’ speech matches the proWles characterizing villainous and wealthy politicians in the age of Demosthenes. The themes of the powerful cabal;53 of hidden wealth (which is just as invidious as conspicuous wealth);54 of the polis besieged by an enemy within;55 of the enemy being a foreigner;56 and especially of the control and manipulation of sensitive information,57 all appear commonly in oratory in relation to Athenian orators and politicians. This, of course, says nothing new about Athenian politicians, but much about the grain-dealers and their power and standing. In fact, in the few years immediately preceding the date of his speech Against the Grain-Dealers (386), Lysias had written at least three other speeches containing practically identical argumentation and aimed against Athenian politicians. An Epicrates and his associates are shown as speech-making creatures who proWt from plunging the city into war and other misfortunes, and should be put to death without a trial;58 Ergocles and the famous Thrasybulus appear as closet oligarchs, proWteers, enemies-within with rich overseas connections;59 and Philocrates, an associate of Ergocles (who ‘‘sailed out to make money’’), is yet another man cut from this same mould.60 Each of these speeches shares with Lysias 22, besides almost staccato brevity, a vitriolic comparison between the poverty and helplessness of the city and the fortune and power of the defendants. We are even oVered a striking parallel to the Wnal argument of Lysias 22, a direct appeal to the stomachs and pockets of the jurors, now applied against powerful politicians: ‘‘. . . you have often heard these men say, whenever they wish to destroy anyone unjustly, that unless you convict as they order you, you will lose your jury-pay’’.61 The fact that negative rhetoric deployed against politicians and grain-dealers plays on identical popular fears and hopes shows that grain-dealers generally are conceivable as having enormous power to 53 See e.g. Dem. 58.40, 44. 54 Din. 1.70. 55 [Dem.] 25.42 (note  ºØ æŒEŁÆØ used again); see n. 37 above. 56 Aeschin. 3.171–3: arguing that Demosthenes is a Scythian. 57 Dem. 19.184. 58 Lys. 27, APF, 181 (date: c.390). Cf. the son of the nobleman Sopaios of Pontus, an  æ  and lender, claims to have been nearly put to death without a trial by the  ıº in connection with a trading incident: Isoc. 17.42 (date: 393). 59 Lys. 28, APF, 240, 542 (date: 388). 60 Lys. 29, APF, 542 (date: 388). 61 Lys. 27.1; cf. n. 43 above and p. 236 below.

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harm Athens. The positive rhetoric (of which we only get a glimpse in the grain-dealers’ claim to have bought grain ‘‘in kindness to the city’’) seems to reinforce this, for it is a claim based on the opposite potential, to beneWt the entire city. We may compare this with one of the arguments put forth in a speech against the younger Alcibiades: it might be wise to pardon the man if he could be either useful or harmful to Athens, but he can be neither, for he is ‘‘weak and poor, incapable of business, in conXict with his relatives, and hated by everyone else’’.62 A despicably moneyless and politically harmless aristocrat is the rhetorical antithesis of the grain-dealers portrayed in Lysias 22. The impression emerging from this analysis is that grain-dealers were a group with enormous collective power in Athens, who, far from insigniWcant, are pictured both among the ranks of Athens’ political princes and her most lethal subversives. Behind this popular impression must exist two important realities. First, many (perhaps hundreds) of grain-dealers must have existed in classical Athens for their task to be simultaneously portrayed as collectively vital to the city, yet limited by law (either according to cartels or individuals) to relatively small amounts of Wfty baskets.63 Second, these large numbers of grain-dealers (we will never know the actual number) must have come from the entire economic and political spectrum of the city, from the metics savaged in Lysias’ speech (surely not altogether poor and powerless if a master speechwriter like Lysias had to be ranged against them!), to wealthy citizens and politicians engaged in dealing on a much more remunerative level. If there were indeed wealthy and politically active Athenian graindealers, we must try to discover the full extent of their commercial activity. Most of all, we must ask why the persons involved appear so unwilling to tell us so themselves, or, in other words, why the myth of the wealthy citizen detached from such commercial interests has survived for so long, it seems since the Classical Period itself. Turning back to the speeches of Demosthenes and Dinarchus, respectively, we might begin to see why. There, according to their enemies, Aeschines 62 Lys. 14.43–4: . . . غe J ŒÆd   ŒÆd æ

Ø I Æ  ŒÆd E NŒ Ø Ø æ  ŒÆd !e H ¼ººø Ø  . 63 See Rosivach (2000), 47–8.



and Philocrates boastfully display their revenues, property, estates, and wealth to the people,64 while Demosthenes appears being carried in a litter down the road to Piraeus, taunting the poor he meets along the way.65 Rife with scandalous malice as they may be, these passages again rely for their persuasiveness on a basis of popularly recognizable fact, the same source as Theophrastus draws on for his Characters. Theophrastus’ IºÆ" , or ‘‘Impostor’’, is the man who really lacks, but would claim, the privileges of a Philocrates or Aeschines in Demosthenes’ rhetorical cartoon.66 Though not a wealthy person, and living in a rented house, the Impostor goes around Athens parading his intimate relations with the Macedonian court (‘‘three letters of invitation from Antipater!’’), and claiming to have been given the right to export Macedonian timber tax-free.67 This man’s feigned pretensions to be a member of the Athenian elite do not end here. SigniWcantly, he also pretends to keep money in a bank, and boasts of the enormous amounts he has invested in bottomry loans,68 as well as the fortunes he has spent on relieving famine, and on fulWlling trierarchies and other liturgies.69 In other words, he boasts of the activities of a Demosthenes or Philocrates or Aeschines.70 But 64 Dem. 19.114, 145. 65 Din. 1.36; on other allegations of Demosthenes’ ‘‘greed and withdrawal from public morality’’, see von Reden (1995), 118–19. 66 Theophr. Char 23.1 deWnes IºÆ"  Æ thus: `ºØ b  IºÆ"  Æ Ø r ÆØ æ  Œ Æ Ø IªÆŁH Œ Z ø . . . See Diggle (2004), 27–29, 431–44 (‘‘the Boastful man’’). 67 Theophr. Char. 23.3–4. 68 Theophr. Char. 23.1. 69 Theophr. Char. 23.2, 5. The amounts supposedly contributed in the famine range between more than Wve, and ten talents. 70 In his inheritance suit, Demosthenes reveals that his father had left ‘‘seventy minae in a bottomry loan to Xouthos, 2,400 drachmas in the bank of Pasion, 600 in the bank of Pylades, 1,600 with Demomeles, the son of Demon, together with about a talent loaned interest-free in amounts of 200 and 300 drachmas’’ (Dem. 27.11; cf. 29.36 where he again refers to the bottomry loan). SigniWcantly, it is only in cases of inheritance disputes that other wealthy Athenians involved in K æ Æ are forced to disclose (in order to recover) their assets (see e.g. Lys. 32.4 (‘‘Diodotus had made a large fortune in K æ Æ’’), 6, 8, 14–15, 25). Demosthenes never again refers to his or his family’s private fortune, but Hyperides can say, when accusing him of desertion: ‘‘you engage in overseas trade and invest money in bottomry . . . ([ Æı] ØŒ E Kæª"fi [æÆ]Ø ŒÆd KŒØ  [ø]) . . . you do not live in the Piraeus but lie in anchorage outside the city ( PŒ NŒE K[ —]ØæÆØE, Iºº K æE KŒ B ºø)’’ (Hyp. Dem. fr. IV col. 17, Loeb edn. using G. Colin’s restoration). Overseas trade (‘‘having

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much of the Impostor’s ridiculous nature, as Theophrastus emphasizes, is that his claims are only convincing (ØŁÆ ) to foreigners ( Ø) and ignorant people (Iª H )71—everyone else in Athens knows the man is a fraud because he is so amazingly inept in his imitation of the real elite. Where does the Impostor go wrong? The real holders of power, wealth, and privilege in Athens were radically diVerent from him in their portrayals of themselves. A true Demosthenes would not stand on the docks of the Piraeus, boasting of his thousand medimnoi from the Bosporan kings, or of how much money he had made on bottomry loans to merchants.72 The Athenian elite had to be extremely circumspect at every level of its involvement in overseas trade, and as we begin to understand why, we become less like Theophrastus’  Ø and Iª H .

C. Kapeloi In his speech Against the Grain-Dealers Lysias makes a single use of the word kapelos to refer to the defendants (everywhere else he uses ‘‘grain-dealer’’ (Ø º )). It appears in his stirring peroration. Far rather ought you to pity those of our citizens who perished by their villainy, and the traders ( æ Ø) against whom they have combined. These you will gratify and render more zealous by punishing the accused. Otherwise, what do you suppose their feelings will be, when they learn that you have acquitted the kapeloi who confessed to overreaching the importers (Nº )?73

anchorage outside the city’’) has a common rhetorical association with desertion, e.g. Aeschin. 3.209 (again on Demosthenes) and Lycurg. 1.17. Demosthenes’ investments in bottomry are again mentioned in Plut. Comp. Dem. et Cic. 3.6. Altogether diVerent is the subject of trierarchies and liturgies, a commonplace boast in the forensic speeches of Demosthenes and his contemporaries (see e.g. Dem. 21.151, 154, 156– 9; 18.112, 113, 118) but requiring a complex democratic modulation of their own, treated in detail below. See [Plut.] X orat. 851b for Demosthenes’ gift of one talent to the Ø ø Æ, as oYcially recorded in his public honours. 71 Theophr. Char. 23.1, 5. The translation of Iª H  as ‘‘strangers’’ makes no sense of the joke that follows: the ignorant are fooled by the fake maths of the impostor. 72 On the market as a place of ‘‘display of social behaviour and political status’’, see von Reden (1995), 107. 73 Lys. 22.21 (Loeb trans.).



Is a kapelos the same thing as a grain-dealer? In Herodotus, and before him in Aeschylus and the sixth-century iambic poet Hipponax (who gives us the Wrst use of the word in extant Greek literature), no Greek, and certainly no Athenian, ever engages in what is obviously the oriental, degrading, and eVeminate activities denoted by the word kapelos and its cognates.74 The precise meaning of the word is not clear from any of these passages. In Aeschylus it seems metaphorical for shrinking back or being idle. In Herodotus, the word is closely connected to trading activity. But it can be used much more generally, as it is applied to King Darius, as a metaphor to criticize his changing the Persian system of tribute from one of gifts to Wxed sums of money. During all the reign of Cyrus, and afterwards when Cambyses ruled, there were no Wxed tributes, but the nations severally brought gifts to the king. On account of this and other like doings, the Persians say that Darius was a huckster (kapelos), Cambyses a master, and Cyrus a father; for Darius looked to making a gain in everything (KŒÆºı  Æ a æªÆ Æ); Cambyses was harsh and reckless; while Cyrus was gentle, and procured them all manner of goods (XØ   ŒÆd IªÆŁ Ø  Æ K Æ Æ ).75

In short, whatever the term may actually mean, it seems that kapeleia was understood as a distinctly un-Greek and un-Xattering activity. But it appears to have invaded Athens quickly enough, arriving along with books and strange practices, the praising of new divinities and the insulting of old ones, for by 429 Euripides’ Theseus seems to embody Old Athens in his rage towards his son Hippolytus and his adoption of all these heresies, among which is ‘‘being a kapelos of grain’’ ( Ø ŒÆ ºØ ).76 74 Hipponax fr. 79.18 West; Aesch. Sept. 545; Hdt. 1.94, 155; 2.35, 141, 164; 3.89 (bis); 5.9. On the use of the word in Herodotus, see Kurke (1989), 539. The ethnicity of Hipponax’ Œ º  is not totally clear from the fragment, but the fact that he deals in æØ, an Egyptian word for wine, would seem to mark him as non-Greek. Indeed, Kurke (1999), 72, notes that the word has no Greek etymology and suggests that it is originally Lydian. I disagree with Kurke’s argument that mistrust of ŒÆ º Æ reXects a generalized ‘‘scorn of the Greek elite, directed against professional traders’’, and that, by contrast, K æ Æ was acceptable because occasional and non-professional (following Bravo (1977), 43). In my opinion, the distinction is thoroughly ethical, and minimally occupational; see von Reden (1995), 183 and n. 81. 75 Hdt. 3.89 (Rawlinson trans.). 76 Eur. Hipp. 950–4; see Barrett (1964), 344.

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But Aristophanes is by far the best illustrator of the meaning of kapeleia. The word appears in cognate form more than twice as often as in any other Greek author, or equal to almost one-third of the times it appears in all of Greek literature.77 Understanding Athenian kapeleia is therefore impossible without a close study of its role in Aristophanes.78 This will of course involve a detour away from rhetorical argumentation in Athenian oratory, but not a very radical one: Dover showed long ago that comedy and oratory are fully compatible and complementary sources for the study of Athenian popular morality.79 The Aristophanic kapelos is, in his very essence, a person whose activities disrupt the metaphorical behavioural fabric (ŒæŒ ) of polis life, as in the following passage: Kinsman: . . . Women, you overheated dipsomaniacs, never passing up a chance to wangle a drink, a great boon to kapeloi but a bane to us—not to mention our crockery and our woolens (ŒæŒ ).80

The type of evil referred to here, female intoxication, is pervasive in the later comedies of Aristophanes: Lysistrata, Thesmophoriazusae, Ecclesiazusae, and Wealth. Interestingly, the meaning of kapeleia is closely tied to this particular social disruption.81 In Ecclesiazusae, the wife of one kapelos is named Geusistrate, probably a pun on ‘‘tasting’’ (ªø or ª ÆØ), and, like a reveller, carries a torch (instead of the normal oil-lamp) to the secret assembly of the women.82 Organizing their own Assembly, she and her 77 The cognates referred to are those six used more than once in Greek literature: ŒÆ º Æ, ŒÆ ºE , ŒÆ ºø, ŒÆ ºØŒ=H, ŒÆ º , Œ º . The only word not included is ŒÆ ºı ØŒ, a hapax used in Pl. Leg. 842d. 78 ˚ º  (seven times), ŒÆ º  (three times), ŒÆ ºE (twice), and ŒÆ ºØŒH (once) appear in Aristophanes. None of these appearances give us an explicit deWnition of ŒÆ º Æ, unlike in Plato; but, as Ehrenberg (1962), 7–9, notes, the particular value of Aristophanes as a historical source lies precisely in this absence of explicitness. ˚Æ º Æ (among many other aspects of Athenian social and economic life) appears here as part of an implied or unconscious background, ‘‘a background self-evident to poet and audience’’; see also Burckhardt [1898–1962] (1998), 277. 79 Dover (1974). 80 Thesm. 737–8 (Loeb trans.). 81 The Wrst extant use of the word, in Hipponax, points in the same direction: see n. 74 above. 82 Eccl. 49–50; see note in Ussher (1973), 81.



co-conspirators shortly demonstrate their obsession with wine, confusing the speaker’s wreath with a symposiast’s and legislating against the adulteration of wine with water in kapeleia.83 Ironically (because such adulteration of wine and water was for the Greeks in fact the only civilized way of drinking wine), in preferring their wine neat, the assembly-women believe they are following normal assembly procedure.84 The world depicted here has gone topsy-turvy. The legislating women have transgressed not only gender-roles, but also the similarly basic boundaries between Greek and barbarian custom, and the worlds of the symposium and Assembly. The proper and diVerent roles of wreath and (even more importantly) of wine in each setting have been entirely forgotten: the meeting-place of the women is at once banqueting room and Pnyx, and therefore neither of the two. When the meaning of the act of libation in the symposium is confused with that in the ekklesia; when ‘‘decrees breathe of drunkenness and madness’’; when there is no longer a distinction between the irrational, the rational, and the traditional role of wine in structuring the two; when wine is drunk unmixed; and when Scythian archers have to drag intoxicated Athenian citizens from their seats in the Pnyx, then even the boundary between Greek and barbarian has disappeared. It is in this bizarre world that we Wnd the kapelos, the cultural outsider of Aeschylus and Herodotus, as the only person interested in mixing wine with water. He may be doing it for all the wrong reasons, but he is Wnally acting like a Greek. The kapelos had appeared in this same unlikely role, as a bulwark of right by doing wrong, in the Thesmophoriazusae. Here, in what almost sounds like a parody of the famous public imprecations of Teos, the herald of the women of Athens invokes the wrath of the gods upon the families and persons of anyone who spoils their marital inWdelities, or of any kapelos or kapelis (the word’s feminine equivalent) who dares to corrupt the wine measures.85 The kapelos is thus cast once more as the enemy of the topsy-turvy community. Similarly in Wealth, the goddess Poverty, the ‘‘severe mistress’’ of oldfashioned Athenian work and morality, is mistaken for a kapelis 83 Eccl. 153–5. 84 Eccl. 135–43. 85 Thesm. 347–50; see Teos in GHI 30: ‘‘curses to be publicly pronounced each year by certain magistrates on those who endanger the interests of the community’’.

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that corrupts the wine measures and gets banished from the ungrateful city.86 But the fact that in a normal, moral Athens it would be kapeleia that would stand for immorality is never forgotten: the corrupt old woman in Wealth wears make-up that hides her wrinkles ‘‘kapelikally’’ (ŒÆ ºØŒH), an adverb that may be Aristophanes’ invention and probably hints at her engaging in prostitution as well as hiding her age.87 Drunkenness among women induces an anger, combined with insolence and courage, that allows them to revolt against the normal world; without the aid of alcohol their inferior natures were not felt to be up to the task of insurrection. It is undoubtedly for the same reason that slaves are typically abused in comedy as desiring so much wine. The source of this politically dangerous drink in the Lysistrata is the same for both groups: the kapelos88 or kapeleion.89 That kapeleia could readily be associated by Athenians with women like Lysistrata, and therefore with insubordinate political acts committed by normally apolitical members of the city, easily explains why the comic poet Theopompus wrote a comedy titled Kapelides: that play must have constructed an absurd and fantastic world not far removed from the female politicians and paradoxically virtuous kapeloi of Aristophanes.90 The purpose of these fantasies of intoxicated women helped by the wine of the kapeloi to control the city was, of course, a vehicle of contemporary political satire. When Cleon takes up his mission to Pylos, for example, Aristophanes not only accuses him of being drunk, but also compares him to a woman.91 But was Cleon (or the other demagogues of Athens) also connected in some way, either actual or imaginary, to kapeleia?92 This indeed seems to be the case when in the Birds we hear of a ‘‘lame’’ kapelos nicknamed ‘‘Partridge’’, obviously a real person recognizable by Aristophanes’ audience.93 The reference to the bird has been understood from the scholia onwards as an accusation of deceit, for the partridge was known 86 Plut. 435–6. 87 Plut. 1063–5. 88 Lys. 463–6. 89 Lys. 426–7. 90 On comic drinking, see Wilkins, 202–56. 91 Eq. 1054–6. 92 In the context of Athenian politics, I use the word ‘‘demagogue’’ to mean ‘‘politician’’, with no pejorative connotations. 93 Av. 1292–3.



to feign lameness and injury in order to avert attention from its young.94 Furthermore, modern commentators agree in Wnding in the nickname, as in the verb ‘‘to escape like a partridge’’ (KŒæØŒ ÆØ) in line 768, a pun on Perdiccas II of Macedon, who was at war with Athens and had been attacked by Athenian ships and cavalry the year previous to the performance of the Birds.95 Perceived treachery and political partisanship with a foreign enemy thus lay at the heart of Aristophanes’ accusation. From the contexts in which we have previously found the word, it is therefore not surprising that Aristophanes refers to this unknown person, who must be a demagogue, as a kapelos. Besides being tied to cheating and political subversion, the kapelos is also therefore a traitor, and his connection with Perdiccas in comedy is unsurprising, for the comedian Hermippus also accused this king (in his Phormophoroi, produced c.425) of mainly exporting lies (ł ) to Athens.96 The association of Athenian demagogues with kapeleia Wnally brings us to the use of the word in the context of the most frequent accusations in Aristophanes: war-proWteering. ‘‘If any spear-maker ( æı) or kapelos of shields wishes for war to better his trade’’, says Trygaeus in Peace, ‘‘may he be captured by pirates and eat only barley’’, responds the Chorus.97 After the restoration of peace in the play we Wnd Wve of these war-proWteers, a crest-maker (º   Ø), a breastplate-seller (ŁøæÆŒ º ), a trumpet-maker (ƺتª  Ø), a helmet-maker (ŒæÆ  Ø), and a spear-maker ( æı) approaching Trygaeus to complain that their trades have been destroyed. On seeing the Wrst of these men approach, Trygaeus says: ‘‘Here comes a kapelos looking irritated’’.98 If the crest-maker could be called a kapelos, then the word must also have applied to the other four merchants, and in fact to anyone, including manufacturers, who desired war for the sake of business.99 Although Athenian democracy had nothing that resembled our class of professional 94 See Arist. Hist. an. 612b23: see similar statements in Suda, Hsch., Etym. Magn. (collected by Rogers (1930), 105). 95 See Dunbar (1995), 474–5, 640; Green (1905), 131. 96 fr. 63.8 K-A. 97 Pax 447–9. 98 Pax 1208–9. 99 Despite the fact that all the manuscripts give speaking parts to all Wve merchants, numerous editors since Bergk and Mein (and, most recently, Olson) have

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politicians, war-proWteering is precisely the accusation repeatedly levelled at Cleon and other demagogues as a class in all of the early comedies of Aristophanes. The bitterest such denunciation comes in the Knights, where the Sausage-seller exposes the slave Paphlagon (a thinly veiled cartoon of Cleon) to his master, Demos, as concealing his misdeeds and lining his pockets through the war.100 We have now examined all of Aristophanes’ references to kapeleia except one, and this last provides a fundamental indication of what the term meant to the poet and his contemporaries. In Wealth, Hermes bemoans the new universal order that follows upon the restoration of sight to the god Wealth. He is famished because he no longer receives the various dish-oVerings of the kapelides (plural of kapelis),101 but the Athenians, tired of the dishonest world of the past which he and the other Olympians represent, turn a deaf ear to his entreaties: even when Hermes lists his various titles and, among them, proudly claims to be Hermes ¯ ºÆE  (lit. ‘‘Hermes the trader’’), the Athenian Cario replies ‘‘why should we keep a Hermes palinkapelos?’’102 Here the suYx palin- must be acting as an intensiWer, as in the words ƺØŒ , ‘‘doubly long’’, or ƺ ŒØ , ‘‘thick-shaded’’: palinkapelos therefore meant ‘‘doubly a kapelos’’, the suYx expanding the original negative meanings that we have explored so far. This is precisely how the words kapelos and palinkapelos are used also by Demosthenes in a rhetorical crescendo of indignation in his invective against Aristogeiton (‘‘but if he is a kapelos and a palinkapelos and a traYcker ( Æ º) in wickedness, if he has all but sold by scale and balance every action of his whole life . . .’’103), and (even more clearly) what ‘‘to be a palinkapelos’’ (ƺتŒÆ ºØ ), the third and last appearance of this compound in classical authors, means in relation to Cleomenes, Alexander III’s governor of Egypt.104 It is surely absurd to think of artiWcially muted them, and reassigned their words (from ll. 1210–64) to a single and wholly hypothetical character designated as ›ºH Œ º , a ‘‘retailer’’ of weapons. Retailing is in fact indicated in lines 1224–6, 1240–1, and 1251, but if we simply understand that Trygaeus does not automatically mean ‘‘retailer’’ by Œ º , we can avoid this perverse emendation of the text. 100 See e.g. Eq. 801 V., 864 V. 101 Plut. 1120–3. 102 K ºÆE =ƺتŒ º : Plut. 1155–7; titles: 1164. 103 [Dem.] 25.46 (Loeb trans.). 104 [Dem.] 56.7.



the last as a ‘‘dealer at second remove’’.105 In short, the passage from Wealth (presented the year before Lysias’ Against the Grain-Dealers) is invaluable because it shows us that an understood contrast existed between K ºÆE  and palinkapelos: the former must denote neutral or positive, and the latter negative, perceptions of engaging in trade. We can now gather the true sense of the word as it is used in Lysias 22. Besides being a cheater, a traitor, and a war-proWteer, the kapelos was a kind of mercenary of the marketplace, without any social loyalties. Its meaning has very little to do with any technical role in trade. By contrast the editors of LSJ give the deWnition of kapeleia as: ‘‘retail trade, esp. provision-dealing, tavern-keeping . . . in pl., petty trades’’, citing no source earlier than Plato. Similarly, for the verbal form of the word, they give: ‘‘to be a retail-dealer, drive a petty trade’’, citing two of the passages of Herodotus that do not apply to Greeks (1.155, 2.35), and moving on to Isocrates and later authors. For kapelos they have: ‘‘retail-dealer, huckster’’ (citing ‘‘Hdt. 1.94, 2.141, Sophron 1, etc.’’), ‘‘opp.  æ ’’ [merchant] (citing Lysias 22.21 and passages from Xenophon and Plato); ‘‘also opp. the producer ÆP º ’’, (citing passages in Plato); ‘‘applied to Darius’’ (citing Hdt. 3.89); ‘‘a dealer in . . .’’ (citing Aristoph. Peace 447, 1209); second entry: ‘‘esp. tavern-keeper’’ (citing Aristoph. Thes. 347, Lys. fr.1, and Hellenistic and later sources); third entry: ‘‘metaph., dealer in petty roguery’’, (citing Dem. 25.46). Only at the end do they give: kapelos ‘‘as Adj., esp. cheating, knavish’’, but citing only Hellenistic and later sources. Translators have accordingly rendered the term as ‘‘retailer’’, and historians have believed them without much question, and together they have created for Wfth- and fourth-century Athens an entire commercial class of impoverished and miserable middlemen. From the sources we have examined, it is evident that Hasebroek’s deWnition, for example, is largely Wctional.106 Instead we have seen that the 105 See n. 106 below. 106 Hasebroek (1933), 1: ‘‘The kapelos is the local dealer—the man who in general does not leave his own place of residence either for the purpose of importing or exporting, but conWnes himself to selling on the home market. Usage, however, makes a further distinction, according to the manner in which the commodities he oVers for sale are obtained. If he buys them directly from the producers he is a kapelos in the strict sense; if from another middleman—a merchant or importer—he is a

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Athenian kapelos, though he might well be a retail-trader, is not so by deWnition. More importantly, kapeleia was a general badge of abuse instead of a technical term denoting a speciWc division of labour: it was an accusation of engaging in seemingly treasonable business practices, speciWcally in proWting from the perceived detriment of the community. Instead of meaning ‘‘dealer at second remove’’, palinkapelos was the intensiWer of kapelos. In this sense, any person engaged in any level of trade (‘‘K ºÆE ’’), from the impoverished person who ran his own stand to the wealthy and powerful Cleomenes of Naucratis, could readily be called kapelos or palinkapelos, or be depicted as such in a comedy or a speech.107 The need to revise the accepted paradigm of the Wfth-century kapelos as an impoverished middleman should not, however, lead to the replacement of one Wction with another.108 Lysias, for example, says that the grain-dealers (Ø HºÆØ) are dishonest when they plead poverty:109 if we leave room to believe the grain-dealers (as we should, since the statement appears in a law-court speech), we must conclude that some people accused of kapeleia were indeed poor, while some (e.g., in ascending scale, Aristophanes’ crest-maker, Cleon, Cleomenes, and King Darius) were wealthier. It must be stressed that the term kapeleia itself only spoke of a particularly reprehensible kind of commercial mentality, not of wealth. We can observe this mentality in detail in the scene in Peace where Trygaeus exclaims, ‘‘here is the kapelos of weapons!’’ at the arrival of the crest-maker and his war-proWteering companions. This is the end of an antithesis: another character, the sickle-maker (æÆ ıæª), had appeared a few lines previously to show the audience an example of the good use of wealth. His desire for making a proWt is viewed as perfectly normal, something he actually shares with the kapeloi. But the diVerence is that, unlike the kapeloi, he shares his proWt by bringing gifts to the wedding of Trygaeus and the goddess Opora.110 We Wnd a very similar comparison in the Knights, where ‘dealer at second remove’ (ƺتŒ º ). But in either case what he sells is not his own produce.’’ 107 See e.g. Hdt. 3.89: King Darius as Œ º . 108 I do not wish, for example, to contest the existence of ‘‘taverns’’ or ‘‘shops’’ in Athens: see Davidson (1977), 53–61; Wilkins (2000), 206. 109 Lys. 22.13. 110 Pax 1205–6.



the competition between the leather-seller (ıæ º ) Paphlagon/ Cleon and the Sausage-seller to court their master, Demos, culminates in the opening of the baskets of the two sellers.111 While that of the Sausage-seller is empty because he has brought everything to the table of Demos, it is discovered that Paphlagon’s contains the lion’s share of a cake and is brimming with all kinds of other delicacies that he has kept for himself. The blame that recurs throughout the play is not that Paphlagon feeds, but that he eats three times as much as Demos.112 The contest is over, and the Sausage-seller is crowned as victor.113 If we keep in mind that here, as in Peace, it is this type of beneWtsharing that is the decisive factor in establishing harmony between the trader and the community, there is nothing ‘‘very strange,’’ as Ehrenberg believed, in the fact that ‘‘the chorus of knights, the noble youth of Athens, sides unconditionally with the Sausage-seller, even when he surpasses himself in impudence and vulgarity.’’114 Nor is there need to explain this by imagining a kind of temporary political alliance, driven ‘‘by a common hostility to Cleon,’’ between the author, his Sausage-seller, and the chorus; Ehrenberg himself correctly insists on how perilous it is to read Aristophanes’ works in this way, as political manifestos. The Knights is not about ending the Peloponnesian War, but about Wghting it without the self-seeking kapeloi at the helm; likewise, the Wasps is about how the demos is being cheated by selWsh politicians: Bdelucleon: . . . Consider this: you could be rich, and everyone else too, but somehow or other these populists (  " ) have got you boxed in. You, master of a multitude of cities from the Black Sea to Sardinia, enjoy absolutely no reward, except for this jury pay, and they drip that into you like droplets of oil from a tuft of wool, always a little at a time, just enough to keep you alive. Because they want to keep you poor, and I’ll tell you the reason: so you’ll recognize your trainer and whenever he whistles at you to attack one of his enemies, you’ll leap on that man like a savage. If they wanted to provide a living for people, it would be easy. A thousand cities there are that now pay us tribute. If someone ordered each one to support 111 Eq. 1211–28. 112 Eq. 716–18. 113 On the food contest, see Wilkins (2000), 187–92. 114 Ehrenberg (1962), 47–8; I also hesitate to see Cleon as a political revolutionary, as does Connor (1971), 139–98, partly on the basis of this play.

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twenty men, then twenty thousand loyal proles would be rolling in hare meat, every kind of garland, beestings and eggnog, living it up as beWts their country and their trophy at Marathon. As it is, you traipse around for your employer like olive pickers.115

The society that produced these plays encouraged the ‘‘sharing politician’’—ideally the man who could present himself as inviting the whole city to feast, as Schmitt-Pantel has described in her famous study of public commensality.116 For it is signiWcant that in both Knights and Wasps the kind of sharing that is encouraged is predominantly in terms of food, and this only makes sense in a context where the ‘‘sharing politicians’’ did in fact have a particular inXuence over the food supply of the city. Paphlagon/Cleon boasts that he can make Demos expand and contract,117 an ability that corresponds to references to the demagogues’ grain doles to the demos. Paphlagon:

. . . Please hold oV, so I can provide you with barley grain and a daily livelihood. Demos : I can’t stand hearing about barley grain! You and Thuphanes have cheated me once too often. Paphlagon: All right, I’ll supply barley meal already processed. Sausage-seller : And I’ll supply barley cakes ready-made, and the hot meal too; all you have to do is eat. Demos: Then you two get on your marks and go to it, because to the one who treats me best I intend to award the reins of the Pnyx.118

Eupolis paints a recognizably similar scene in the now fragmentary Demes: And indeed they say that Peisandros was screwed yesterday, while having breakfast, after he said he wouldn’t feed a stranger. And Pauson, standing beside Theogenes dining to his heart’s content oV one of his merchant-ships, thrashed and screwed him for good, and the beaten Theogenes lay there, farting all night. First of all, they ought to screw Kallias and those in the Long Walls, for they eat better than we do. And Niceratus of Acharnai . . . giving quarts of grain . . . to each . . . of the goods . . . I wouldn’t buy for a penny.119 115 116 117 118 119

Vesp. 698–702 (Loeb trans.). Schmitt-Pantel (1992); see also Wilkins (2000); Jameson (1983), 13. Eq. 719–20. Eq. 1100–9 (Loeb trans.). Eupolis Dem. fr. 99.1–22 K-A. (Storey trans.).



Around this time we know of two securely attested grain distributions, in 445/4 (from a gift of grain sent by Psammetichus of Egypt)120 and in 424/3,121 and there may well have been others.122 Aristophanes gives the impression that the demagogues could inXuence multiple aspects of these distributions, from the processing of the grain, to the quantities measured out, to the requirement to present some proof of citizenship, even the sale price.123 Furthermore, in their courtroom incarnation as ‘‘parasitic lawyers’’ (ø º Ø ı ª æ Ø), the demagogues often persuaded jurors disingenuously to blame other people during times of grain-shortage. When confronted with the argument that there would be no grain without a conviction, Demos was to punish those who said this (or their clients) because they were actually to blame for the scarcity: Sausage-seller:


. . . Tell me afresh: if some tomfool advocate (ø º  ı ª æ ) says: ‘‘there’s no grain for you jurymen unless you convict in this case ( PŒ  Ø !E E ØŒÆ ÆE ¼ºØ Æ, N c ŒÆ ƪ Ł Æ c  Œ ),’’ what will you do to that advocate, eh? I’ll hoist him in the air and toss him into the death pit, with Hyperbolus hung around his throat.124

Is it coincidence that the Wnal sentence of Against the Grain-Dealers is an almost verbatim example of this allegedly dishonest tactic? Lysias’ client, a politician member of the Council asks: ‘‘Convict or grain will rise in price!’’125 (akin, as we have seen, to: ‘‘convict or you will lose your jury pay!’’126). In short, Aristophanes claims that the interests of some demagogues were identical to those of the type of merchants ( æ Ø) and importers (Nº ) championed implicitly in Lysias’ speech. How right Wilamowitz was to postulate an alliance between politican and traders in this case!127 One wonders 120 Philoch. FGrHist 328 F119; Plut. Per. 37.4. 121 Vesp. 715–18; on both of these distributions, see below, p. 300; on Euboea in 424/3, see Chapter 3, p. 97. 122 See Chapter 3, pp. 97, 114–15. 123 See esp. Vesp. 715–18; establishing price: see Eq. 893–8; the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 expressly shows the setting of grain price by the ekklesia: › b B  Æ ø c

Øc H ıæH ŒÆd H ŒæØŁH . . . (GHI II 26 (see Appendix 3), ll. 44 V.). 124 Eq. 1358–63 (Loeb trans.). 125 Lys. 22.22: N b , ØØ æ . 126 Lys. 27.1. 127 Wilamowitz-Mo¨llendorV (1893), vol. 2, 377–9.

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whether the grain-dealers, in their lost response to Lysias’ attack, pointed their Wngers at their prosecutor as the true villain, the real kapelos. Other fourth-century evidence on kapeleia, to which we now brieXy turn, amply conWrms our conclusions on the use of the term, but for two reasons must be treated separately: Wrst, because (notwithstanding LSJ’s enormous faith in him) Plato was not a lexicographer, but an enormously creative thinker whose use of language is often demonstrably idiosyncratic; and second, because the use of the word in our fourth-century sources does occasionally evince a functional sense. While it is unlikely that kapeleia simply acquired a functional meaning in the fourth century, it is clear that Lysias uses kapeleion with no apparent negative connotation to indicate the place where Euphiletus buys torches before killing Eratosthenes, a sort of ‘‘neighbourhood shop’’ still open late at night.128 In similarly neutral fashion, Xenophon refers to the people who provided a market for Cyrus’ army in Tarsus instead of Xeeing the city with the rest of the population.129 On the other hand, Isocrates still uses kapeleion (with much the same negative connotations as Aristophanes) to mean a place where ‘‘not even an honest slave’’ would eat or drink;130 and the verb to indicate a perversion of the act of giving, where the giver’s intention of making a proWt from the powerful recipient (Nicocles) turns the gift into a kind of sale.131 Likewise, the remarkably ample attestation of kapeloi in the surviving corpus of Attic curses of the Wfth and fourth centuries points to the continued use of the term kapelos as one of approbation rather than function (it would otherwise be hard to understand why the act of cursing was conWned to a particular business activity).132 In short, the attested fourth-century meaning of kapeleia is ambivalent, and kapeloi are similar to the type of people (the British) to whom 128 Lys. 1.24. 129 Xen. An. 1.2.24; similarly: Cyr. 4.5.42; see also IG II2 1553.16: among the latest extant uses of the term in the Classical period (c.330), the word ŒÆ º  appears as the occupation of a freed-woman. 130 Isoc. 7.49; similarly: 15.287. 131 Isoc. 2.1; on this passage, see von Reden (1995), 115. 132 I prefer not to go into this complex material in detail here, and simply refer the reader to Parker (2005), 131, with references.



Napoleon (after Adam Smith) refers disparagingly as a ‘‘nation of shopkeepers’’.133 If Napoleon cannot be taken literally on the meaning of boutiquiers, neither can Plato on kapeloi. In his Sophist, the philosopher divides the acquisitive art ( Œ ØŒc  ) into hunting and exchange ( e IººÆŒ ØŒ ); exchange into gift ( e øæ ØŒ ) and sale ( e Iª æÆ ØŒe ); sale into selling one’s own products ( ÆP øºØŒ) and re-selling other people’s products (  ƺ ØŒ); and re-selling other people’s products into intra-city (ŒÆ a ºØ ) and inter-city (K ¼ºº  N ¼ºº ºØ . . . T fiB ŒÆd æØ) varieties: the former is  ŒÆ ºØŒ, the latter  K æØŒ.134 The translation ‘‘retailing’’ for  ŒÆ ºØŒ is here obviously misleading, since for Plato  K æØŒ is just as much a matter of buying and selling the goods of other people; the distinguishing feature between the two terms is that the former involves purchasing and re-selling within the same city, while the latter involves the same from one city to another.135 Plato’s purpose in discussing these forms of exchange is to establish that the sophist can sell the knowledge of others: (a) from city to city, or (b) within the same city; or alternatively he can sell his own knowledge. The sophist can therefore be viewed, respectively, as a merchant ( æ ) or a retailer (Œ º ) of knowledge, or a seller of his own (ÆP º );136 but the sophist may also be called a hunter (Ł æı ) when he simply hunts ‘‘after rich and promising youths’’.137 Thus, rather than deWning these terms lexicographically, Plato is explaining a comparison made repeatedly in other dialogues and applied to the sophists, a profession that he regards (to say the least) with deep distrust (the sale of knowledge for pay seemed to him to make a man no better than a mercenary).138 Care must therefore be taken not to read Plato like a dictionary, especially since he also continues to use kapeleia in the same fungible and imprecise way we observed in Xenophon and Isocrates: sometimes 133 ‘‘L’Angleterre est une nation de boutiquiers’’ (attributed to O’Meara (1888)); Smith (1776), 4.7. 134 Soph. 223c–d. 135 See compressed variants of the same deWnition in Plt. 260c–d and Resp. 371a–d. 136 See Soph. 224e, 231d. 137 Soph. 223b, 231d. 138 See Prt. 313c, 313d, 314a; the comparison is implicit in Grg. 517d–e; 518b.

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neutrally to indicate a more or less precise division of labour;139 sometimes in place of trading (for a proWt) as a whole;140 and sometimes, alongside trade (K æ Æ), to indicate a large number of occupations141 in which Plato views man as naturally and reprehensibly coming to desire wealth without limit.142 This deterministic and pessimistic conception of human nature forms the basis for Plato’s wish to banish trade, in all but its most inevitable forms, from his ideal state in the Republic and the Magnesian colony in the Laws.143 Aristotle’s treatment of kapeleia, unlike Plato’s, has not received the attention it deserves, although it establishes a sort of synthesis of all the concepts we have so far seen embodied in the term. In the Politics, Aristotle introduces the important question of whether the parallel sciences of politics ( e  ºØ ØŒe ) and of household management ( e NŒ ØŒe ) are in any sense equal to, or include, the science of wealth-getting ( æ Æ Ø ØŒ).144 Numerous modern scholars have for a long time argued that ‘‘in the ancient view it was the duty of the state to feed its citizens; and this duty dominated its economic policy throughout’’.145 The idea, true or not, is taken straight from Aristotle’s philosophy, which claims that wealth-getting is diVerent from household management (and by extension from politics) in that the function of the Wrst is to provide, and that of the last two to use, wealth.146 However, he explains that there is a natural (ŒÆ a Ø ) form of wealth-getting, namely of providing the limited amount of wealth that is necessary to live a good life, that does fall within the province of both household management and politics;147 signiWcantly, this natural branch of wealth-getting includes procuring 139 See e.g. Leg. 842d; Plt. 289e–290a. 140 Cra. 417b–c. 141 Leg. 920b. 142 See e.g. Leg. 919c (cf. 831c–e). Man’s natural propensity to vicious acquisition: Leg. 918d V. 143 See Leg. 842c–d; 847d; 849c–d; 919c–920c. As a practical concession in the Laws, Plato settles for a system without lending (742c, 850a, 915e) and proWts controlled by a board that considers ‘‘what standard of proWts or expenses produces a moderate gain for the trader (ºB  ŒÆd I ºøÆ   fiH ŒÆºfiø Œæ   ØE e  æØ )’’ (920c). 144 Pol. 1258a19–21. 145 The polis as consumer: Hasebroek (1933), 150, citing Gernet, Francotte, Boeckh, and Busolt. 146 Pol. 1256a11–14. 147 Pol. 1256b27–40.



food ( æd c æ  ).148 The other form of wealth-getting, which originated in the use of money, and is unnatural (Ææa Ø ) because it regards the possession of money as an end in itself,149 is called to kapelikon: this ‘‘at Wrst no doubt went on in a simple form, but later became more highly organized as experience discovered the sources and methods of exchange that would cause most proWt’’.150 In conclusion, while politics can make the study of certain stratagems (like those described in the Pseudo-Aristotelian Oikonomika) useful towards natural wealth-getting,151 the type of wealth-getting that is equivalent to to kapelikon is outside of politics: it is, in other words, not part of the original and most supreme of all goods for which the partnership of the polis was formed.152 This brings us back in a full circle to the point where we began, with Aeschylus and Herodotus presenting kapeleia as a practice of barbarians. It should now be clear why LSJ ’s deWnition of this term should be challenged. Translating it as ‘‘retail trade’’ obscures the ethical aspect with which it was imbued from Aeschylus to Aristotle. Old Comedy shows a thriving trading community of all kinds in Wfth-century Athens: sellers of sausages, bread, Xour, wheat, vegetables, wool, Wsh, honey, pigs, birds, cheese, cakes, drugs, and numerous other products appear in seller-compounds (-º ).153 And an equally large variety of diVerent manufacturers is designated by maker-compounds (- Ø). We can conclude that Hermes the trader ( ¯ ºÆE ) must 148 Pol. 1258a16–17. For a reWnement of this proposition, an acknowledgement that trade in food can and does involve a mixture of natural and unnatural wealthgetting, see 1258b9–37: the three main branches of  æ Æ Ø ØŒ, with their subdivisions, are (1) natural: (a) animal husbandry, (b) agriculture: (i) grain, (ii) fruit, (iii) bees, (iv) Wsh, (v) fowl; (2) Mixed natural/unnatural: (a) fruitful commodities, (b) fruitless commodities: (i) timber, (ii) minerals; (3) unnatural: (a) commerce (K æ Æ): (i) ship-owning ( ÆıŒº æ Æ), (ii) transport ( æ ª Æ), (iii) marketing (Ææ ÆØ); (b) money-lending ( ŒØ), (c) hired labour (ØŁÆæ Æ): (i) skilled, (ii) unskilled. Cf. the distorted repetition of this classiWcation in [Arist.] Oec. 1343a26–b2, equating K æ Æ with ŒÆ º Æ. See also Arist. Rhet. 1359b19 V. 149 The life devoted to this form of wealth-getting cannot be happy (PÆØ ØŒ) according to Eth. Eud. 1215a30. 150 Pol. 1257b1–5 (Loeb trans.). 151 Pol. 1259a33–7. 152 See Pol. 1252a1–8. 153 Ehrenberg (1962), 121–3. Re-sellers of various types of things, running small establishments similar to our ‘‘general store’’, would have been called Æ HºÆØ; see 122 n. 3.

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have presided over both of these activities, and that from Aeschylus to Lysias the term kapeleia was not used to designate a class of retailers, but to accuse of anti-social behaviour any of these makers and sellers in general, including traders ( æ Ø). As an ethical term including a wide range of people, kapeleia is uniformly negative, not only according to philosophical or historical sources, but also (and more importantly) to drama and oratory. These make clear that the negativity surrounding the word was a reXection of a popularly held sentiment, and not just the prejudice of intellectuals, moralists, or aristocrats. Can we re-deWne kapeleia? Generally it means engaging in to kapelikon, or (as deWned by Aristotle) in the multifaceted activity of wealth-acquisition ( æ Æ Ø ØŒ) for its own sake: kapeleia in this sense works in our sources as a metaphor for living outside the normal structure of the polis, or for endangering it from within as a revolutionary, a traitor, or a war-proWteer. All amount to the same thing, which we can variously name ‘‘riches for their own sake’’, ‘‘proWt’’ (Œæ ), ‘‘economic rationality’’, even ‘‘capitalism’’. Kapeleia is the corruption of gift-giving (or of the opportunity of gift-giving) into exchange for a proWt: Isocrates will not act like a kapelos towards Nicocles; the grain-dealers whom Lysias calls kapeloi violated the law not for kindness to the city (K P fi Æ B ºø) in order to lower the price of grain and give away their proWt (which would probably acquit them), but for the opposite reason, in order to raise the price and make a proWt from the sale.154 This tension between gift-giving and kapeleia is nothing but the question, once more, of what makes and what destroys the polis. The problem is squarely presented in the Politics, as follows.155 If one believes that the corruption of exchange from gift to kapeleia inevitably takes place in every society, one must follow Plato in creating a communist state, a republic without private ownership, since private ownership is the one factor that makes giving possible. If instead one believes that this corruption can be somehow avoided, and indeed that gift-giving (and by implication private property) is a necessary part of political life, then one must follow Aristotle’s ideal, in which the rich ( ƒ h æ Ø) and the poor ( ƒ ¼ æ Ø) are ‘‘in the fullest sense

154 Lys. 22.11.

155 Pol. 1262b37–1264a1.



the parts of the polis’’.156 The communism advocated by Plato, says Aristotle, takes away from people the ability ‘‘to display liberality or perform a single liberal action’’, which is one of the good things in life and thus one of the reasons why the polis exists: communism is, in this sense, the destruction of the polis (‘‘the polis as its uniWcation proceeds will cease to be a polis’’). Given that man is a political animal, ‘‘life in such circumstances is seen to be utterly impossible’’. The only thing that could save the polis, preventing the opposite destructions of gift-giving that kapeleia and communism represent, is paideia, an education that will allow the individual, instead of Plato’s Law-wardens, to decide the question of what level of proWt is just and moderate for the trader.157 For Aristotle, ‘‘the proper thing is for the polis, while being a multitude, to be made a partnership and a unity by means of paideia, and it is strange that the very philosopher [Plato] who intends to introduce a system of education and thinks that this will make the polis morally good should fancy that he can regulate society by such measures as have been mentioned [communism] instead of by manners and culture and laws’’.158 ‘‘The present system, if further improved by good morals and by the regulation of correct legislation, would be greatly superior.’’159 Thus, the last deWnition for kapeleia advanced here makes it the counterpart of the evil of communism: kapeleia was the ‘‘justly blamed’’ selWshness ( e  ºÆı ), the economic knavery ( Ł æ Æ) threatening classical Athens.

II. GRAIN-IMPORTERS: EMPOROI A ND NAU KL EROI No one associated with the grain trade has been the object of so much scholarly attention as the importers, both merchants ( æ Ø) and shipowners ( ÆŒº æ Ø), featured in the oratorical corpus.160 156 Pol. 1291b9. See also Eur. TrGF 2 F21. 157 Pl. Leg. 920c3. 158 Pol. 1263b35–40. 159 Pol. 1263a23. 160 By the time of Herodotus, the Greek overseas merchant is designated by the words  æ  (Hdt. 2.39; the older meaning of the word is closer to ‘‘overseas traveller’’: Hom. Od. 2.319; 24.300; Bacchyl. 18.36 Snell-Maehler; Aesch. Cho. 661) or

ÆŒº æ  (if he owned his own ship: see Ehrenberg (1962), 116–18).

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Unfortunately, most of these eVorts have largely been spent arguing whether this or that particular merchant is poor, whether he is an alien, etc. Their explicit purpose is to raise Wgures either to refute or support Hasebroek’s theory (in Trade and Politics in Ancient Greece), continued by Finley, that Athenian economic life was sharply divided between poor, non-citizen traders, and wealthy, non-trading citizens.161 Perhaps that aim has vitiated the whole enterprise, since the nature of our sources (as we have seen) will not provide most answers to such questions, even to the most ingenious scholar.162 But drawing on Finley’s substantivist conception of the ancient economy,163 G. Herman, one of his students, pointed the way forward: In communities professing egalitarian ideologies, people are reluctant to give publicity to beneWts they exclusively enjoy—in particular when scarce products are involved . . . Fear and desire to conform combined to make people underplay their foreign connections.164

Unfortunately, though citing many of the important passages, and providing an excellent overview of the inherent tensions between individual instances of ritual friendship ( Æ) and a democratic community, Herman does not explore the speciWc repercussions of this insight for the politics of the Classical Athenian grain supply.165 Nor, fundamentally, does he question Finley’s strict divide between the worlds of trade and the aristocracy.166 A complete re-examination 161 See Finley (1973), 60 and, inter alia, chronologically from most recent: Reed (2003) (supporting); Montgomery (1986) (supporting); M. V. Hansen (1984) (based on Isager and M. H. Hansen (1975)) (refuting); Thompson (1982) (refuting); Erxleben (1974) (supporting). Millett (supporting) gives a nice summary, (1983), 37–8: ‘‘The conXict between these two sets of Wgures is complete, and they plainly support contradictory conclusions’’. Millet is right in identifying the problems behind ‘‘counting heads’’, but instead of oVering a new approach, simply takes as his premise Hasebroek’s ‘‘evidence on traders’ lack of resources’’, and ‘‘absence of evidence for wealthy traders’’: 46–7. 162 See Cohen (1992), 26–37, who, in the context of Athenian banking, provides a thorough criticism against the misuse of statistics (‘‘cliometrics’’) by modern ancient historians, and instead uses a ‘‘forensic attestation’’ methodology (used also by Humphreys (1978) in the context of Athenian law) quite similar to the one I use here. 163 See e.g. Finley (1973), 60: the ‘‘factor of status’’. 164 Herman (1987), 82–3. 165 Similarly, Mitchell (1997), on the quasi-personal nature of Greek state relations. 166 See Herman (1987), 162–5: ‘‘Perhaps the most important conclusion that emerges from this way of looking at the ancient evidence is the persistence, in the



of the ways in which the grain trade is presented to Athenian popular audiences is therefore needed. We have already viewed the favourable assumptions made by Lysias about the importers in his speech Against the Grain-Dealers. They appear as a principal victim of his evil opponents, a group of people whom the jurors will ‘‘gratify and make more zealous’’ (Ææ "ŁÆØ ŒÆd æ Łı æ ı  ØE ) with their avenging (and exemplary) vote.167 They need the help of the city. Lysias tells us little else about them. No doubt he would have loved to say that, like normal victims, the importers were weak and helpless—later on we will see abundant instances where Demosthenes portrays victims in this way. The fact that Lysias does not employ this topos should set oV historians’ alarms. It suggests that weak importers were beyond Athenian popular belief. Instead, as we have seen, he attributes a set of abilities to the grain-dealers (e.g. knowing about ships sunk or captured overseas) that are believable to his audience, but intuitively more attributable to importers,168 or even to the grain-dealers (e.g. the wheat-dealers) among Athenian politicians. Lysias’ speech seems to end in a note of promise (‘‘you will buy your grain at a fairer price’’), which implicitly casts the importers as the potential saviours of the city, at least as long as they are made ‘‘more zealous’’ (æ Łı æ Ø). As an ominous last touch, the speaker adds that otherwise ‘‘the price will rise’’. This threat is hardly veiled. The importers are clearly no weaklings. Still, the importers remain a mysterious shadow in Lysias 22. As we have seen, they may well have been in alliance with the speaker, or perhaps the speaker was himself an importer. In any case, it is diYcult to avoid the impression that Lysias actually wishes to mention them as little as possible—that they, too, could be easily cast before an Athenian jury as personae non gratae. Unfortunately, world of the [Classical] cities, of the horizontal cleavage between the upper and lower classes—which, though perhaps not as deep as that observed in [Finley’s] world of Odysseus, was certainly deeper than is commonly held in modern research’’. Contrast, most usefully, the economic expertise of the Athenian elite extensively demonstrated by Davies (1981), passim. 167 Lys. 22.21. 168 Demosthenes, for example, claims to gather his commercial intelligence from Theodosia and Panticapaeum from ƒ º : Dem. 20.33.

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the corpus lacks the great courtroom speech, the equivalent of Lysias 22, which would prove this beyond a doubt by showcasing importers in the worst possible light. The surviving rhetoric surrounding merchants and shipowners is instead much more abundant and complicated, approaching them from a wide variety of angles, positive and negative. The obvious place to begin is where this rhetoric crosses, where we actually have both sides of an argument involving the same person, incidentally a politician: such is the case of Andocides.

A. Andocides Two of Andocides’ own speeches on his behalf, and one against him (included in the corpus of Lysias) dwell at some length, as Andocides himself puts it, on his activities as a shipowner ( ÆŒº æ ) and merchant ( æ ).169 SigniWcantly, the arguments on either side of the case centre (just as in relation to grain-dealers) on the opportunities this occupation aVorded him to do great evil or good to the city. The Lysianic speech170 presents its case against Andocides the shipowner as an extended series of paradoxes. He is cast as an immensely wealthy and powerful man, the guest-friend of kings and tyrants;171 yet always unwilling to contribute to a special contribution 169 Andoc. 1.137: ˚Æ ªæ Æ   ı ŒÆd æd H ÆıŒº æØH ŒÆd æd B K æ Æ, ‰ . . . The Loeb edition translates incorrectly: ‘‘The prosecution have also found grounds for attacking me in the fact that I am a merchant who owns ships’’. There is, in fact, no such ground for attack, since æ here means ‘‘in connection with’’, as in 1.110: ˚Æ ªæ Æ   ı ŒÆd æd B ƒŒ æ Æ, ‰ . . . (‘‘The prosecution have also accused me in connection with the suppliant’s bough’’). Such tendentious mistakes stem from the type of academic prejudice against Greek merchants perpetuated by modern works after Hasebroek’s. 170 Although the work (certainly not by Lysias) may be an artiWcial composition later than the defense speeches of Andocides (and may even be based upon the latter), it is still valuable testimony of what in all probability would have been said before an Athenian jury by the prosecutor of Andocides. With this caveat in mind, we follow the conventions of an actual trial by turning to it Wrst. 171 Lys. 6.48: º ı H ªaæ ŒÆd ı   E æÆØ ŒÆd ÆغFØ K ø  ŒÆd ıæ

Ø. The term æÆ

Ø is here chosen to paint Andocides as an oligarch (see e.g. Din. 1.43); when foreign kings are mentioned elsewhere in the speech (e.g. 6.6), the more neutral term ÆغE is used, since now the purpose is to show them as the



(N æ; cf. Lys. 22.13), and speciWcally to help (TºE ) the city, despite being a shipowner, by importing grain in its hour of greatest need.172 By comparison, the metics and foreigners who helped Athens by importing grain showed more allegiance to their place of residence than Andocides did to his own fatherland (Æ æ ).173 Two additional paradoxes show Andocides (a) failing to perform any good service in order to cancel his previous misdeeds;174 and (b) denying nurture ( æ EÆ) to the very place that nourished him.175 Such arguments are meant to elicit anger by listing diVerent ways in which Andocides has disappointed the city’s (and thus also the jurors’) expectations. The popular morality assumed and invoked in the speech is therefore one that demands that a wealthy and powerful Athenian, a shipowner intimate with foreign kings, should above all other people come to the aid of his city by importing grain.176 As anticipated by his opponents (‘‘knowing your temperament, he will now brag about his wealth and power and ritual friendship ( Æ) with kings . . .’’177), Andocides defends himself by arguing that he has fulWlled precisely this civic obligation. His speech On His Return describes his provisioning of the Athenian Xeet, made possible through his ties to the Macedonian monarchy: I then immediately conveyed oars to your Xeet stationed in Samos while the Four Hundred had already seized control here. For Archelaus was my hereditary ritual friend ( ) and was granting me the right to cut and export as many as I wished.178

victims of the deceitful Andocides. Andocides himself always uses the latter term when referring to his friendship with monarchs. The Lysianic speech alleges that Andocides’ overseas contacts lay speciWcally in ‘‘Sicily, Italy, the Peloponnese, Thessaly, the Hellespont, Ionia, and Cyprus’’ (6.6); and included Dionysius of Syracuse (6.6–7), the king of Citium (6.26–7), and Evagoras of Cyprus (6.28). 172 Lys. 6.49; both the speaker and Andocides himself are silent as to the number of ships belonging to Andocides. 173 Lys. 6.49. 174 Cf. Lys. 14.43–4. 175 Lys. 6.49. 176 The end of this attack (at 6.49) appears to have dropped out of the surviving text, but probably switched from saying how Andocides chose not to help Athens, to how (in ways like those in sections 6–7) he positively harmed it by being a ÆŒº æ . 177 Lys. 6.48. 178 Andoc. 2.11.

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While Andocides cannot claim that he provided these oars as a gift to the state, he boasts that he sold them at cost; in fact, he tells the jurors how much money he would otherwise have made.179 He then proceeds to mention his imports of grain and bronze,180 and ends by asserting the crucial importance of his role as supplier in the subsequent victory of the Athenian Xeet over the Peloponnesians at Cyzicus.181 Although the danger of trading and sailing overseas posed by war, winter, and pirates is a point heavily stressed by Andocides (as if his exile from Athens were the only reason he embarked on this profession182), it is essentially part of his claim to be favoured by the gods.183 This is crucial for a man who acknowledges (and professedly repents of) his role in the mutilation of the Herms,184 and whose enemies could easily list his ties to kings and ‘‘tyrants’’ as additional proof of oligarchic tendencies. He therefore takes noticeable pains to conWrm his democratic credentials by emphasizing his enmity with the Four Hundred, particularly with the famous oligarch Peisander, who appears accusing him of supplying grain and oars to the ‘‘enemy’’ (meaning the democratic Athenian Xeet at Samos).185 Andocides thus shows himself a patriotic, and (more importantly) democratic, shipowner and merchant, and, returning to the language and arguments of benefaction and civic duty, it is he who claims to have been disappointed in his legitimate expectation of praise (KÆØ ŁŁÆØ) in return for his eagerness and devotion (æ Łı Æ ŒÆd Kغ Æ 179 Cf. Andoc. 1.134 and n. 190 below. 180 He does not (and thus probably could not) also claim to have sold these goods at cost. 181 Andoc. 2.12. 182 See Andoc. 1.144–5. Andocides implies that during his period as a trader he was in a state of great poverty and want ( Æ  ººc ŒÆd I æ Æ: 1.144), a point on which Hasebroek (1933: 9) and others take him at his word. One wonders how they would distinguish this from (e.g.) Demosthenes’ description of himself as ‘‘not one of the most friendless or completely destitute persons’’ in Athens ( PŒ J h  H Kæ   ø h  H Iæø Œ ØfiB) (Dem. 21.111), and one of ƒ  ºº (Dem. 21 passim)! 183 Andoc. 1.137–9. 184 See Andoc. 1.145; 2.15. 185 Andoc. 2.13–14. See also the role Andocides attributes to his ancestors in the democratic struggle against the Peisistratids. He claims his great-grandfather chose leaving Athens instead of ruling it by marrying into the tyrant dynasty: 1.106; 2.26.



 ŒÆ) to the aVairs of the city.186 His demand for acquittal, even requital, rests on his importation of grain and other commodities vital to sustaining the political power of Athenian democrats. Far from treating his life as an importer as a misfortune of the past, Andocides argues that its real beneWts are still waiting to be enjoyed by the city: From my numerous contacts and more than numerous experiences, I possess relations of ritual friendship ( Æ) and aVection (غ ) with many kings, states, and other foreigners individually. If you come to my aid, you will share in all of these, and be able to make use of them whatever occasion may arise.187

Although he gives no impression that he plans or even wants to take to sea again (he would choose Athens over the ‘‘bountiful good land’’ and ‘‘suYcient possessions’’ he could enjoy back in Cyprus188), he instead projects his proper role as a kind of power-broker between his inXuential overseas friends and the Athenian people. His activities as an importer have made Andocides an enormously valuable expert on the Athenian grain supply, and he now proposes to exercise this expertise at home, at the centre of the political stage. Already his control over Cyprus as a source is such that he has been able to frustrate the men who were scheming and acting against the interests of Athens.189 The story recalls the dark conspiratorial picture drawn by Lysias, only now Andocides appears as the patriotic insider who will put an end to the nefarious cabals of grain-dealers and importers.190 His means remain tantalizingly secret: ‘‘you do not need 186 Andoc. 2.13. Paradox continues to be used in connection with foreign benefactors: if the city rewards even slaves and aliens with citizenship and great privileges, with all the more reason should it reward him, the last scion of a great Athenian family perpetually at the service of its fellow-citizens: 2.23. 187 Andoc. 1.145 (Loeb trans.). 188 Andoc. 1.4; see p. 141 above. 189 Andoc. 2.20–1. 190 This is not the last time we encounter the theme of the cabal. SigniWcantly, it appears elsewhere in Andocides (1.133–6) in connection with Agyrrhius and his associates, who allegedly collude (ÆæÆıººªŁÆØ, ı Ø  ÆØ) ‘‘under the white poplar’’ to Wx bids on the 2% tax ( Œ  ) at as low a price as possible. Typically, Andocides relies on the preconceptions of the jurors (‘‘you know what kind of men they are’’) as ethical proof of culpability, and proceeds to show how he foiled the scheme of Agyrrhius and co. by outbidding them. The same dark society is now

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to hear how this was done’’, he says.191 Once again the jurors are indirectly told that the vital trade is outside their own control. Unfounded rumour is all they can hope to gather in their assemblies or harbours; real intelligence will come only from someone like Andocides, the privileged expert ready to show oV his ability to say (e.g.) that fourteen grain-ships from Cyprus are due to reach Piraeus, and that the rest will arrive shortly afterwards in a group.192 Andocides expands this exclusivist position even further by intimating that he has made certain secret proposals to the Council in connection with the grain supply.193 The alleged motive for such secrecy is the Council’s accountability—but, in eVect, Andocides is claiming and displaying enormous political power by presuming to dictate what the jurors can and cannot know. As with the blurred distinction between graindealing and politics we have already examined, this type of argumentation suggests how indistinct the line between shipowners, merchants, and high politics could be in the minds of an Athenian audience. The case of Andocides is special in the sense that no other prominent Athenian public Wgure is displayed in the oratorical corpus in such intimate relationship with ship-owning ( ÆıŒº æ Æ) and trade (K æ Æ). Leaving aside for now conclusions of fact (e.g. that no other prominent Athenian actually was a shipowner or merchant194), which may or may not stem from this observation, we can limit ourselves to suggesting some rhetorical problems inherent in the case of Andocides. The most obvious problem for Andocides, as it appears from the above analysis, is that his activities make him seem ambiguously democratic. The extent of his connections and superior knowledge about the grain trade could be and were (as the Lysianic speech shows) easily turned against him to make him appear oligarchic. A democratic Athenian audience (especially after the events

supposedly out to avenge itself on Andocides, and rid the city of its guardian. SigniWcantly, Andocides is not slow to admit that he and his associates made a ‘‘small proWt’’ (æÆÆ IŒæÆ  ) from farming the tax. Tax-farming is consistently referred to in oratory, for better or worse, as an activity of the wealthiest class (Antiph. frags. A 1–2; Dem. 21.165–7; 22.42; 24.160 (Androtion); 24.160, 198 (Timocrates, with Androtion); 23.177 (Charidemus)). See below, pp. 256–7, 273–4 . 191 Andoc. 2.21. 192 Andoc. 2.21. 193 Andoc. 2.19, 21. 194 This is the conclusion drawn by Ste Croix (1972), 267.



of 411) could not be counted on to know the diVerence (if indeed there was one) between having kings (ÆغE) and having tyrants ( æÆ

Ø) for friends.195 Nor can we imagine many jurors taking kindly to having ‘‘secret plans’’ paraded before them without being told what they were. It is signiWcant in this regard that, despite his great promises, Andocides failed in his speech On His Return and was forced to remain in exile for several more years. A passage from Xenophon’s Memorabilia allows us to put Andocides’ ambitions, rhetoric, and failure in perspective. In this short dialogue set not long after the Peloponnesian War, Socrates has learned that Glaucon, the brother of Plato, aspires to ‘‘the leadership of the city’’ (æ  Æ Ø B ºø).196 Socrates examines Glaucon and ironically anticipates that he will be able to give counsel on the city’s revenues and expenditures, war and defence, or (at the very least) on the amounts of grain needed yearly to supplement Attic domestic production.197 Information on this last subject would allow him, according to the philosopher, ‘‘to aid and to save’’ ( ŁE  ŒÆd fi"Ø ) the city from the speaker’s platform, and would be equally necessary for his own political advancement.198 But the young aristocrat is unfortunately too young and inexperienced. His family seems justiWed in fearing that he would be dragged oV the platform and made a laughing-stock (ŒÆ ƪºÆ ).199 The whole passage strikes us as remarkably meritocratic: fame and admiration in Athenian politics (P ŒØE  ŒÆd ŁÆı"ŁÆØ K fiB ºØ) are won with expert knowledge (ŒÆ æªÆŁÆØ . . . e N ÆØ);200 the ambitious son of Ariston desires power and treats it 195 See n. 171 above. 196 Xen. Mem. 3.6.1, 2; for the post-war context, see Burke (1990), 1–13; Strauss (1986), 42–86. 197 Xen. Mem. 3.6.13. 198 This is the double meaning in !bæ H I ƪŒÆ ø ı ıºø . 199 Xen. Mem. 3.6.1. This was a reality which, far from appearing normal or fair to many Athenian aristocrats, would have been repugnant. It is therefore easy to see it as an important cause of the prejudice expressed in fourth-century philosophy; Xenophon, for example, characterizes the KŒŒº  Æ, in the chapter following the Glaucon episode, as a crowd of ‘‘the stupidest and weakest’’ ( ƒ Iæ   Ø  ŒÆd IŁ   Ø): cobblers . . . builders . . . smiths . . . farmers . . . merchants ( æ Ø) . . . and sales-people ( ƒ K fiB Iª æfi A  Æƺº Ø): KŒ ªaæ  ø ± ø  KŒŒº  Æ ı  Æ ÆØ (Mem. 3.7.5–8). 200 Xen. Mem. 3.6.18.

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as his natural prerogative but is rebuVed due to his ignorance. This dramatic clash of expectation and reality seems to point to a revolutionary change having taken place in Athenian politics not long before. The enormously complex logistics of the Peloponnesian War, which turned Athens completely to the sea, required politicians with an intimate understanding of trade, and the subsequent loss of empire cemented this need.201 But plus ¸ca change . . . . Andocides shows how entirely misleading it would be to overlook the advantages of birth in this new age of the expert politician. The most eVective expertise on the grain supply rested on aristocratic overseas contacts: ‘‘relations of ritual friendship ( Æ) and aVection (غ ) with many kings, states, and other foreigners’’,202 people whom Aristotle calls ‘‘the ones in control’’ ( ƒ Œæ

) and ‘‘the useful ones’’ ( ƒ æØ Ø).203 All that the well-connected Athenian aristocrat needed was a democratic rhetoric that could more eVectively deploy his type of expertise.

B. Demosthenes We can see in the case of Demosthenes an apposite example of an Athenian politician, in somewhat similar circumstances to Andocides, but taking care to distance himself as much as possible from monarchs and other democratically unsavoury features of the 201 I disagree with M. H. Hansen’s theory, which sees this professionalization as a fourth-century phenomenon. He argues that the earliest juxtaposition of the combined term Þ æ ŒÆd  æÆ ª in the 350s, may ‘‘reXect the Athenians’ adaptation to a change in the political leadership during the Wrst half of the fourth century . . . due to a growing professionalism in both rhetoric and warfare’’ (1989: 52, 53). 202 Andoc. 1.145. See p. 248 above. 203 Arist. Rhet. 1359b19–23 (a passage that has been thought related or even derived from Xenophon’s: see Cope (1877), vol. 1, 63; Kennedy (1991), 53) gives æd H Nƪ  ø ŒÆd Kƪ  ø (mentioned again in 1360a12–17 as æd

æ B . . . KƪøªB ŒÆd NƪøªB) as one of the Wve most important subjects for the symbouleutic orator: ‘‘Again, in regard to food supply, he should know how much consumption is adequate for the polis; and what part of this is produced at home and what needs to be imported; and what exports and imports are necessary, in order that there may be covenants (ı ŁBŒÆØ) and agreements (ı ºÆ ) to secure them; for it is necessary to keep the citizens ( f  º Æ) free from blame (I ªŒº ı) in their relations with two classes of people—those who are in control ( f Œæ

ı), and those who are useful ( f æ   ı), in these matters [of provision]’’ (Arist. Rhet. 1360a12–17).



Athenian grain supply, while showing oV his knowledge of the same for political eVect. In his speech Against Leptines, Demosthenes appears particularly concerned with establishing himself, at the debut of his public career,204 not only as a democrat, but also as a well-informed and credible politician. Unlike Glaucon, he would have passed Socrates’ examination. Demosthenes’ Wrst speech does not betray even the faintest trace of his youth. Instead he is the consummate expert and statesman. The personal demonization of his opponent, so usual a feature in most of Athenian oratory (and so noticeable in his nearly contemporary speeches Against Androtion and Against Timocrates), is by comparison noticeably absent in this work.205 Indeed, the unique style and content of the speech suggest that it was circulated alongside contemporary prose works (such as Isocrates’ On the Peace and Xenophon’s Ways and Means) that gave counsel on matters of public Wnance and policy, crucial subjects for Athens in 355 at the end of its disastrous Social War.206 As is the case with such pamphlets, expediency is the overarching theme of the speech, its declared purpose from its 204 Demosthenes was about 29 years old when he delivered this speech, his Wrst public address, in 355. See Sandys (1890), pp. xxvii–xxix. 205 Jaeger (1938), 42–67, saw the speeches Against Leptines, Against Androtion, and Against Timocrates as part of a coherent program of political opposition by the young Demosthenes against the older generation of Athenian leaders who had lost the Social War. Demosthenes did not personally deliver the latter two speeches, but probably published them under his name, as Badian says (2000), 24, ‘‘both to demonstrate his mastery of the genre and to warn his enemies that they could not hope to escape unscathed if they challenged him’’. 206 See Sandys (1890), p. ii. Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Amm. 4) describes the speech as ± ø H ºªø ªæÆØŒ Æ , which, as Sandys convincingly explains ((1890), p. xxxv) ‘‘points to the Wnish and precision characteristic of the written style, as contrasted with the style of debate which lends itself more readily to delivery’’. Cicero’s reference to the speech as an oratio subtilis (Orat. 111) is repeated in modern scholarship: ‘‘The Leptinean speech is indeed one of the quiet kind, employed wholly in convincing, rather than exciting the hearer; and possesses not the force and grandeur of language and sentiments which we admire in the Philippics and some other speeches, which are usually regarded as models of the Demosthenic character. Here everything is calm, temperate, carefully worked out, and of an equitable tenor’’ (F. A. Wolf quoted in Sandys (1890), p. xxxvi). See also Jaeger (1938), 64–7: ‘‘The man who speaks here belongs to the upper classes of Athens and makes this felt at every turn without expressing it directly . . . The force of the speech lies not so much in entreaties and adjurations as in the easy superiority of the orator’s presence.’’

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opening words: ‘‘. . . because I consider that the city will beneWt . . .’’ ( . . . ¥ ŒÆ F  "Ø ıæØ fiB ºØ . . . ). SpeciWcally, Demosthenes will demonstrate why it is to the greatest practical advantage of the city to abrogate the law of Leptines, which would deprive all benefactors of Athens of exemption (I ºØÆ) from regular liturgies.207 As the Wrst and most extensive of the several examples he presents, Demosthenes chooses to examine the practical harm the law of Leptines would spell for the Athenian grain supply by aVecting Leucon, the king of Bosporus, a recipient of the exemption.208 He turns for evidence to a detailed recitation of the amounts of grain imported yearly to Athens from the Bosporus; how this compares to the amounts imported from other sources; Leucon’s measures in favour of Athenian importers, including the right to export grain tax-free; what gain this translates into in monetary terms; in which Bosporan trading-ports (KæØÆ) these trading privileges are available and what these ports are like; what additional amounts the king provided in a year of general scarcity; how much money the resulting surplus in Athens generated in that year; and, Wnally, the legal commitments of Athens towards Leucon in return for his benefactions.209 Demosthenes claims to draw this detailed and specialized information partly from public records (kept by the grain guardians),210 but also from merchants ( ƒ º ) to whom he refers in passing.211 207 It is unclear whether Against Leptines is to be considered part of a ªæÆc ÆæÆ ø or a ªæÆc  c KØ E ŁE ÆØ. The latter is argued by Sandys (in an unpublished letter by him in my possession, dated 11 October 1913) based on sections 83, 95, and 153 (cf. pp. xxii–iii). If this type of suit was ‘‘against  Ø alone, on the sole ground of inexpediency’’ (Sandys in his commentary to [Arist.] Ath. Pol, London (1912), 234), Demosthenes’ focus on expediency can be seen as a requirement of the suit rather than a conscious choice. Rhodes, however, seems to consider negligible the practical diVerence between the two suits, since ‘‘questions of legality and of expediency could be raised in both’’ (1993: 545). Dem. 24 (Against Timocrates) shows the two questions were raised separately, as alternative arguments, in the same case (sections 34–67 ¼ legality; sections 68–107 ¼ expediency; sections 108–9 ¼ recapitulation). 208 The precise eVect of the exemption on Leucon is unspeciWed, although Demosthenes argues it stems rather from غ Ø Æ than from need (or desire for gain) (æ Æ): 20.41. Cf. Sandys (1890), 34, suggesting ‘‘immunity from harbour-dues and payments to the custom-house’’, for which there is no evidence. 209 Dem. 20.29–35. 210 Dem. 20.32. 211 Dem. 20.33.



That he had some special access to these traders or their activity in Bosporus Demosthenes never claims, in contrast with Andocides in connection with Cyprus, but there is some reason to suppose this was the case. Elsewhere, Demosthenes claims his father possessed a sizeable investment of 7,000 dr. in bottomry loans ( Æı ØŒ) to a certain Xouthos, who (regardless of whether he was a trader himself or not) was clearly involved in overseas commerce.212 As we shall see when we focus on bottomry loans, such investments seem so typical of propertied Athenians that Demosthenes would be exceptional if he himself had taken no part in them. More importantly, Demosthenes had an ancestral association with Bosporus that appears several times in other speeches as a smear on his reputation, and which he, up to a point, reluctantly admits.213 If Andocides could claim to have lands in Cyprus by royal grant,214 Demosthenes probably had a similar perquisite in Bosporus, at a place known as Kepoi, allegedly given by the Spartocid kings to his maternal grandfather Gylon.215 We may be sceptical about whether Andocides and Demosthenes actually owned these lands, without diminishing the likelihood that they kept ties of ritual friendship ( Æ) to the kings of Cypriot Salamis and Panticapaeum respectively,216 not an uncommon situation among the Athenian elite of the classical period.217 This circumstance would 212 Dem. 27.11. (Xouthos reappears in Dem. 29.36 as having allegedly conspired with Aphobus to erase this loan.) Scholars have debated whether Xouthos is a banker, an intermediary between the elder Demosthenes and traders, or a trader himself: there is simply no way to tell from the available evidence. The essential point remains that the elder Demosthenes invested in bottomry—we will return to him later when we look in detail at the rhetoric connected with bottomry loans and lending in general; see also n. 70 above. 213 Dem. 28; Aeschin. 2.78–9, 180; 3.171–3; cf. Din. 1.43. 214 Andoc. 1.4. Cf. 1.145; 2.11 (‘‘I have  ÆØ with many kings’’, including Archelaus of Macedon). 215 Aeschin. 3.171. It may have been from these lands that Demosthenes received his thousand Ø Ø of wheat per year, which Dinarchus attacks as bribery from the tyrants of Pontus (Din. 1.43, see above). See further discussion in Chapter 4, pp. 166, 174–5 216  Æ is implied by Dinarchus’ suggestion that Bosporus was the natural place for Demosthenes to take refuge (Din. 1.43). Demosthenes’ grandfather is accused, in addition, of having married into the Scythian nobility (Aeschin. 3.172). Probably a reXection of the popularly perceived connection of Demosthenes with Scythia is the taunt of Diogenes the Cynic ([Plut.] X orat. 847f): ºª  ÆP e ÆæÆŒ ø K b

E ºª Ø ŒŁ r ÆØ, K b ÆE ÆØ I ØŒ . 217 After Cimon, grandson of the Thracian king Olorus (Hdt. 6.39), the bestknown examples of this kind of connection are between King Evagoras of Salamis and

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have given the young Demosthenes the opportunity to become the unrivaled Athenian expert on grain trade from Bosporus, as we witness him speaking in Against Leptines. But unlike Andocides on Cyprus and (later) Aeschines on Macedonia,218 Demosthenes completely refuses to speak of Bosporus as one related in any way to its kings. This must be due to the ideological peril that accompanied such a position, as we have shown in the case of Andocides. In Against Leptines, the young and aspiring Demosthenes understandably makes an obvious eVort to sound as democratic as possible. His Wrst attack on the law of Leptines is, in fact, that it violates the sovereignty of the demos by ‘‘deeming it unworthy of controlling its power to give to whomever it wishes’’.219 In the same way, Demosthenes keeps Leucon democratically palatable by referring to him not as king, but as arkhon of Bosporus.220 A comparison of Demosthenes’ and Andocides’ rhetorical strategies reveals an important tension between democratic ideology and the politics of the Athenian grain supply: on the one hand, the Athenian politician must appear to be one of the people; on the other, there is political capital to be gained from becoming an expert on the city’s grain supply, and this expertise is most easily and thoroughly gained by developing personal connections to overseas potentates. Demosthenes manages this tension much more skilfully than Andocides. He shows himself an expert without claiming expertise; gives us a wealth of information while being reticent about his Conon and his son Timotheus; and between the latter and Alcetas, king of the Molossi, Jason, tyrant of Pherae, and Amyntas, king of Macedon (see Lys. 19; [Dem.] 49.22, 26). Thrasybulus was said to have married a Thracian princess, the daughter of Seuthes (Lys. 27.5), and Iphicrates the sister of King Cotys (Dem. 23.129). Aeschines later boasted of his  ÆØ with Philip II and Alexander III (Aeschin. 3.66; Dem. 18.51–2). 218 See e.g. Aeschin. 2.31 V. 219 Dem. 20.2: e B I Ø ªE ŒæØ r ÆØ F  F ÆØ K fiø  º ÆØ. See also Dem. 20.107–8: . . . Ææa  E Æ  [i:e: B  ºØ  Æ] b › B  ŒæØ , ŒÆd IæÆd ŒÆd  Ø ŒÆd ıºÆŒÆd ‹ø  d ¼ºº  ŒæØ  ª  ÆØ,  Æ Ø b ŒÆd I ºØÆØ ŒÆd Ø Ø ŒÆd ØÆF K , z ¼ Ø I cæ IªÆŁe J

 Ø. See Sandys (1890), 8. 220 Dem. 20.29. On the titulature, see Chapter 4, pp. 170–4 Note that Aeschines and Dinarchus refer to the kings of Bosporus as æÆ

Ø while attacking Demosthenes (Aeschin. 3.171; Din. 1.43). Strabo later uses the terms  Ææ Ø, ı  ÆØ, and æÆ

Ø (7.4.4).



sources; it is not he, but the city, that is friend to a foreign king; and when he invites his audience to check the records of the grain guardians—in other words, when he eVaces any role he might have as an insider, obscuring his personal interests—he is treating information about the grain trade not as the conspiratorial whispering of a maWa (as Lysias and Andocides so colourfully do), but as an open public resource in which he has an equal share with every other Athenian. Demosthenes’ strategy is to cement his own position as an expert by elevating the grain supply to a level of maximum political importance; he accomplishes this by rhetorically investing the demos with total sovereignty over the matter. From the available evidence we cannot ascertain the originality or the popularity of this approach, but the example of Agyrrhius suggests an important and formative precedent for the young Demosthenes. As collector of the harbour tax at Piraeus,221 and originator of attendance pay for the Assembly222 (and perhaps also of the Theoric fund),223 the author of the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 had considerable experience with Athenian public Wnances. His ‘‘friendship’’ with Pasion the banker and with the son of Sopaios of Bosporus suggests his own intimate involvement in Athenian commercial life.224 In particular, the fact that the son of Sopaios was not only (as he calls himself) a merchant ( æ ) trading in grain, but also related by his sister’s marriage to a member of the Bosporan dynasty, gives Agyrrhius a connection to the Athenian grain supply and the Bosporan kings very similar to that of Demosthenes (see Table 4).225 Yet the wording and purport of Agyrrhius’ law, like the speech of Demosthenes, are punctiliously democratic: the tax in grain from Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros is meant, according to the law’s proem, to provide ‘‘public grain’’ (E  K fiH Œ Ø fiH),226 a loaded phrase which designates grain to be consumed and (more importantly) controlled by the 221 In competition with Andocides (see Andoc. 1.133–4), n. 190 above. 222 [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 41.3; cf. Ar. Eccl. 183–8; schol. on l. 102 (æH  KŒŒº ØÆ ØŒe øŒ ). 223 See Stroud (1998), 21–2. 224 The son of Sopaeus calls Agyrrhius ‘‘I æ Ø E KØ Ø ’’ (Isoc. 17.31), referring to himself and Pasion, although Agyrrhius appears as witness on behalf of the former against the latter (17.32). 225 Isoc. 17.4, 11. 226 GHI II 26 (Appendix 3), ll. 5–6 (see Stroud (1998), 25–6).

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community. This is grain administered by various magistrates of the demos, and by the demos itself, as it decides in the Assembly to sell its own grain, stored in a public granary, for whatever price it chooses.227 The law unobtrusively presents one obstacle to this otherwise complete democratic process: it prevents the demos from voting to sell the grain before the month of Anthesterion (from late January to late February),228 but otherwise seems intentionally drafted to highlight the control of the demos, and by contrast to obscure the enormous liberty it grants to the person who purchases the role of tax-collector (› æØ ), in all aspects of collecting the tax. It also hides the fact that the magistrates introduced by the law are (against the usual democratic grain) elected by vote and not by lot.229 This eVect of composition, by all appearances the conscious creation of Agyrrhius, may have inXuenced the rhetorical approach of Demosthenes who does the same during his early years as a politician. This is reXected, not long after Against Leptines, in Demosthenes’ praise for Agyrrhius, as ‘‘a good man, a democrat, a zealous champion of our masses on repeated occasions’’.230 Both the popular image of this politician and the rhetorical means to achieve it seem to have been matters of emulation for Demosthenes, instructing him on how to part ways with someone like Andocides in his treatment of the grain supply before an Athenian audience. To recapitulate, a study of Andocides as shipowner ( ÆŒº æ ) and merchant ( æ ) has allowed us to concentrate on the intersection of these activities with the pursuit of political power in Athens. Although neither Demosthenes nor Agyrrhius, nor Andocides himself after his return to Athens, claims or wishes to be a 227 See ll. 40–6. 228 See ll. 42–4. The Julian correspondences are rough, see Bickerman (1980), 20, 37 (cf. Stroud (1998), 73: February/March), but it is clear that the time was intended to coincide with that of greatest demand for food (and presumably highest price) at Athens (i.e. months after the harvest, and just before the new sailing season allowed imported grain to re-enter the market). 229 See Headlam (1933), 15 with Arist. Pol. 1294b10; see Appendix 4. 230 Dem. (Against Timocrates, date: 353) 24.134: ¼ æÆ æ  e ŒÆd   ØŒe ŒÆd æd e ºBŁ  e ! æ  ººa  ıÆ Æ. According to Plutarch (Dem. 5) Demosthenes was inspired to become an orator by witnessing Agyrrhius’ famous nephew Callistratus defend himself in court, win, and be carried home by the multitude (æ  !e H  ººH ŒÆd ÆŒÆæØ" ).



shipowner or merchant in any sense that would require their personal absence from Athens for considerable periods, the three cases are valuable in revealing how narrow the gap was between these activities and Athenian political life, which urgently required and richly rewarded its ‘‘indispensable experts’’ on the grain supply. The fact that these individuals stayed at home, coordinating their overseas commercial involvements with their political ambition, reveals much about the structure of the grain trade. In order for the system to work, personal ties with overseas rulers had to be combined with continuous contact with, and control over, the decision-making process of the Athenian demos. We can also reasonably deduce from the case of Andocides, especially by contrast to that of Demosthenes, the considerable dangers an Athenian politician could incur by claiming direct involvement in the grain trade. Such a claim would amount to an open assertion of power, wealth, and overseas connections, which the average member of an Athenian audience would be likely to resent as undemocratic and high-handed. The fact that ship-owning and trade could precipitate this type of reaction shows that they were normally associated with power and wealth in the popular mind. This suggests that these activities in fact required amounts of capital out of the reach of all but an elite few, and rested on a type of overseas social network best left unexpressed in democratic company. Hasebroek was therefore not far from the truth when he spoke of ‘‘the elaborate concealment of wealth’’ at Athens as a symptom of a situation where ‘‘State and individual were openly at war’’.231 But his analysis is too pessimistic (‘‘. . . those classes whose wealth Wtted them best to form a merchant-class stood aside from commerce . . . there was no chance for the development of an even moderately regular and stable

231 Hasebroek (1933), 152, quoting Isoc. 15.159–60. Compare Adam Smith (1776) 2.1: ‘‘In those unfortunate countries, indeed, where men are continually afraid of the violence of their superiors, they frequently bury and conceal a great part of their stock, in order to have it always at hand to carry with them to some place of safety, in case of their being threatened with any of those disasters to which they consider themselves at all times exposed. This is said to be a common practice in Turkey, in Indostan, and, I believe, in most other governments of Asia. It seems to have been a common practice among our ancestors during the violence of the feudal government.’’ On the absolutism of the Athenian democracy, see pp. 306–7 and n. 233 below.

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trade’’). He makes the mistake of giving too little credit to the powers of Athenian rhetoric. This conclusion pinpoints the essential problem in using the corpus of oratory as our source for the history of the Athenian grain supply. It makes understandable why, on the one hand, no politically important speaker besides Andocides ever reveals himself to his audience as a powerful actor in the grain supply. That revelation was extremely rare, perhaps unique. On the other hand, if we assume that the grain trade was ultimately a crucial necessity for the city, it is also understandable why no speaker ever accuses his politically important opponent of being powerful enough to manipulate or hurt the grain supply—one simply recalls Lysias’ argument that a powerful (ı Æ ) or potentially useful (æØ ) man, even if manifestly guilty, should be acquitted.232 That is, it would always be to the disadvantage of a prosecutor to make such an accusation, since it would amount to inviting his opponent to counter-attack with the powerful defence that he acted ‘‘in kindness to the city’’ (K P fi Æ

B ºø), as we see anticipated in the speech Against the GrainDealers. The studied modesty that each speaker had to display before the demos, and the contempt he simultaneously had to elicit for his opponent, are but corollaries of the strategy to put the grain supply in the public domain (K fiH Œ Ø fiH). The Athenian demos, whether sitting in the Assembly or Court, had to be persuaded of its own unquestioned mastery and control over Athens, and over the grain supply on which Athens depended.233 Indeed, the structure and politics of the grain supply posed a complicated game of ‘‘doublethink’’234 to the Athenian democracy. 232 Lysias 14.43–4; see above, p. 223. 233 Dover noted (1974), 34, that ‘‘it is remarkable to Wnd Demosthenes, in addressing a mass jury, adopting so supercilious an attitude to schoolmasters, clerks and decorators’’, and concluded this must mean either that (a) ‘‘the majority of jurors addressed by the fourth-century orators were fairly prosperous—not rich, for it was possible to exploit their dislike of the really rich . . .’’; or (b) ‘‘if they did not belong to the prosperous class, they liked to be treated as if they did, and were willing, at least while performing the role of jurors, to adopt the values of that class’’. The real answer, it follows from Headlam’s work, is that the demos, regardless of the social status or aspirations of its individual members, was a monarch, and therefore shared a monarch’s prejudices (including its jealousy of foreign monarchs). 234 See Orwell (1949), 32–3 for the deWnition: ‘‘To know and not to know, to be conscious of complete truthfulness while telling carefully constructed lies, to hold



It necessitated a careful and complicated use of rhetoric to dress up the entrenched role of an elite few in a system that simultaneously beneWted the entire community. There is no other convincing way to justify the intimate knowledge of the grain supply displayed by Athenian politicians (and required by the ten principal assemblies (KŒŒº  ÆØ Œıæ ÆØ) per year that addressed the grain supply235) with the absence in Athenian oratory of a more speciWc connection between grain traders and politicians. Xenophon and Aristotle considered knowledge of the grain supply as fundamental for political advancement.236 Nothing (besides some law, or some extraordinary ethical code, urged perhaps by philosophers but reXected nowhere in our sources) kept any Athenian citizen who had this expertise from reaping its Wnancial alongside its political proWts.

C. Androtion The inscription of 346 honouring Spartocus, Paerisades, and Apollonius of Bosporus provides an excellent test for our analysis thus far.237 It is not Demosthenes who, nine years after his staunch defence of King Leucon’s liturgic exemption in Against Leptines, proposes in this inscription Athenian honours for Leucon’s sons Spartocus and Paerisades (now joint kings of Bosporus) and their brother Apollonius. It is Androtion of Gargettos, a wealthy and inXuential politician (later turned Atthidographer), the target of two violent speeches by Demosthenes, and at least twenty years his elder, whose name stands simultaneously two opinions which cancelled out, knowing them to be contradictory and believing in both of them, to use logic against logic, to repudiate morality while laying claim to it, to believe that democracy was impossible and that the Party was the guardian of democracy, to forget, whatever it was necessary to forget, then to draw it back into memory again at the moment when it was needed, and then promptly to forget it again, and above all, to apply the same process to the process itself—that was the ultimate subtlety . . . Even to understand the word ‘doublethink’ involved the use of doublethink’’. 235 [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 43.4 (reserved to questions æd  ı and æd ıºÆŒB B æÆ, in addition to KØØæ Æ of magistracies, Nƪªº ÆØ, lists of property, and inheritance claims). 236 Xen. Mem. 3.6.13; Arist. Rhet. 1359b19–23, 1360a12–17. See pp. 248 V., and n. 203 above. 237 IG II2 212 (¼ GHI II 64, with commentary).

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at the head of this imposing relief monument.238 On behalf of the Athenian demos, Androtion praises Spartocus and Paerisades for their (and their father’s) most important benefaction, ‘‘care over the exportation of grain’’ to Athens.239 Androtion promises them anything they ask, in return for their continuing goodwill in this regard (‘‘if they do this they shall fail to obtain nothing from the people of Athens’’),240 and grants them all the rights and privileges ( a øæØ) given before to their father and grandfather,241 in addition to the crowns that Leucon had been receiving every four years at the Great Panathenaea.242 The tone employed by Androtion should now be familiar. In its wording and its iconography, the decree applies the same rhetorical strategies we have seen, and plays the same game of doublethink with its Athenian audience. Despite all the praise he lavishes on the two Bosporan kings, Androtion of course avoids mentioning the special double identity of each one as king, but he does not use even Demosthenes’ (or the Bosporan) term arkhon. Did the Athenians not recognize whom they were honouring, or was the status of the sons of Leucon somehow in doubt? Neither possibility seems very likely. Rather, by avoiding all the Bosporan titulature Androtion is outdoing Demosthenes in creating a set of meticulously democratic personae for himself and those he praises. His decree was not merely to grant (or to conWrm) the kings’ Athenian citizenship: it was to embrace and incorporate them, make them conform to its requirements. Androtion’s choice of words announced that the Athenian demos was honouring not foreigners but citizens, the democracy’s own members, and that both he and the royal benefactors accepted this status of political equality. 238 APF, 33–4. See FGrHist 3b Suppl. 1, 87–8; Harding (1976), 186–200. 239 See ll. 14–15: KغŁÆØ B KŒ B F  ı. 240 See ll. 18–20: ÆF Æ  Ø F  P e I ı ıØ F  ı F `Ł Æ ø . 241 See ll. 20, 22–4. As Sandys remarks (1890, p. xxxi), it is unknown whether, in addition to the citizenship, these øæØÆ passed on from Leucon to his sons also included the I ºØÆ which had been threatened by the law of Leptines; on the term øæØÆ , see Rosivach (2000), 42: ‘‘Perhaps the relationship between the Athenian demos and its royal suppliers is best understood as an almost personal one, not very diVerent from Homeric kings and heroes bonding with each other through the exchange of gifts of honour . . .’’. 242 See ll. 24–9.



But the emptiness of this professed equality would have been obvious to any Athenian, if he did not deliberately choose to overlook it. The benefaction of the kings and the honours given in return by Athens were both simply too extraordinary to be possible for any ordinary citizen. So much is clear. However, Androtion’s decree shows us the Athenians accepting as many as three additional selfcontradictory propositions, the Wrst textual, the second and third iconographic. We will examine each one in turn, but this is what will emerge. First, the Athenians could simultaneously think of their decree as an expression of public gratitude, yet also accept its unequivocal inclusion of a series of private interests. Second, they could simultaneously conceive that they were political equals with the kings of Bosporus, yet also allow the latter to be sculpted as enthroned in the relief above the decree. Finally, they could simultaneously accept Androtion as their faithful spokesperson (a democratic politician, and thus a servant of the demos), yet also allow him to depict the Bosporan kings as Athenian aristocrats, namely in what could eVectively be his own popularly perceived image. Only by a subtle manipulation of symbols could an aristocratic Athenian politician safely declare not only the political superiority of his class, but also its overseas connections and control over the Athenian grain supply. Let us Wrst turn to the text. For approximately the Wrst three-quarters of its length (until l. 49), the decree is a clear expression of public thanks for Spartocus and Paerisades, ‘‘on account of their excellence and goodwill towards the people of Athens’’, terms familiar from the speeches we have seen so far.243 This section provides for the golden wreaths, and ends with the instruction to inscribe the decree at public expense.244 Finally, Androtion adds praise for the Bosporan envoys, Sosis and Theodosius, a common feature of Athenian honorary decrees.245 Here we might expect the decree to come to a natural end, but instead we Wnd speciWed that Sosis and Theodosius are praised ‘‘for their care of those coming from Athens to Bosporus’’.246 Care of 243 See ll. 32–3: Iæ B ŒÆd P Æ  ŒÆ B N e B e `Ł Æ ø . Cf. e.g. Dem. 20.17, 43, 52, 80, 107, 122, 141, 142. 244 See ll. 47–9: K b c I ƪæÆc  F ÆØ e Æ Æ F  ı æØ[Œ] Æ æÆ. 245 IG II2 34; IG II2 175. 246 See ll. 49–51: ‹ Ø Kغ F ÆØ H IØŒ ı ø `Ł Ł N ´ æ .

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whom? The genitive participle here could imply Athenian æØ, for the sake of whom Athens would understandably express a public interest. But the wording is vague enough to apply also to any private individual, including  æ Ø. Indeed these would be the likelier candidates for the hospitality of Sosis and Theodosius, since surely it would be the Bosporan kings themselves who personally looked after oYcial envoys from the Athenian demos. On the other hand, we would expect an oYcially designated Athenian proxenos, which neither Sosis nor Theodosius seem to be (or else the decree would say so), to take care of merchants and other Athenians on private business in Bosporus. The simplest explanation for this ambiguity is that Androtion, on behalf of the Athenian state, is publicly praising two individuals, lacking any oYcial Athenian public standing, for their beneWts to private Athenians, probably including merchants. If the ambiguous standing of Sosis and Theodosius represents a blurring of private and public roles in Atheno-Bosporan diplomacy, the phenomenon appears again in two other remarkable provisions that follow near the end of the decree. The Wrst provision calls for repayment of a debt of ‘‘money owing to the sons of Leucon’’.247 The size and kind of the debt are entirely unclear, but the fact that repayment is to be made ‘‘lest the sons of Leucon blame the debt on the Athenian demos’’, implies by contrast that for the moment they are blaming one or more (unnamed) private individuals.248 The second provision grants the request of Spartocus and Paerisades for Athenian ‘‘services’’ (! æ ÆØ), and tells the men conscripted in such service by Sosis and Theodosius ‘‘to do the sons of Leucon whatever good they can in their post’’.249 The number of conscripts is unknown, but it is still remarkable that Athens is willing to part with them while being technically at war against Philip of Macedon, and 247 See ll. 53–4: æd b H æ  ø H Oغ  ø E ÆØd E ¸Œø  . . . 248 See ll. 57–9: ‹ø i I º  a æÆ Æ c KªŒÆºHØ HØ øØ H `Ł Æ ø . For KªŒÆºE see n. 203 above. The ææ Ø of the next assembly are instructed to pay the money. Tod II, 197, does not explain why he thinks the debtor is ‘‘probably the state rather than individual citizens’’. An alternative translation of the clause is, ‘‘lest they bring a charge for the money against the Athenian demos’’, indicating a legal proceeding. 249 See ll. 59–65. See also ll. 63–5: R  i I ªæłøØ , r ÆØ K HØ  ƪ øØ  Ø F Æ IªÆŁe ‹ Ø i  ø ÆØ f ÆEÆ f ¸Œø .



even more remarkable that they will now supposedly be in the military service, not of foreign kings, but of persons whom this inscription, on the face of its text, otherwise treats as private individuals and Athenian citizens. In summary, the Wnal provisions of this honoriWc decree reveal the complexity involved in the democratic handling of Athenian relations with the Bosporan kingdom. Athenian politicians had to show these relations to the demos as operating on a public footing, ‘‘in the public domain’’ (K fiH Œ Ø fiH), to use the vocabulary of Agyrrhius. It should not surprise us that a wide spectrum of private interests lay concealed beneath this form of popular rhetoric. In the case of our honorary decree, we can see traces of these interests extending from the Athenian demos and Spartocus and Paerisades, to private merchants, Bosporan nobles (which we may safely assume Sosis and Theodosius to be), and (not least) Androtion, an Athenian politician. Here the politician was called to play the role of organizer and orchestrator of a complex relationship with enormous public and private repercussions, the same role that we see Demosthenes playing in his speech Against Leptines. Androtion thus stood forth as another public leader and mediator, another expert on the Athenian grain supply, probably looking down on the younger Demosthenes as a dangerous competitor in this crucial political Weld.250 (The judicial struggle between the two men a few years previously may be related to this.251) But political advancement is insuYcient to explain all that is happening, and it would be rash to dissociate Androtion or Demosthenes from the additional desire of currying the personal favour of the Bosporan kings, and of Sosis and Theodosius. Let us turn to the iconography of the decree to see in more detail how Androtion presented the relationship between the Athenian demos and the Bosporan kings, and between the latter and himself.252 On the relief above the text, Spartocus and Paerisades sit in relaxed 250 On the date of this decree (8 Elaphebolion 346) Demosthenes was busy playing a leading role in the peace negotiations with Philip II. See Sealey (1993), 145–6. 251 See Badian (2000), 20–4, and n. 205 above. 252 The relief has been described most recently by Lawton (1995), 98–9, no. 35. Only the most important aspects are mentioned here, as well as points where I disagree with her interpretation.

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poses on large, claw-footed chairs or thrones, their feet resting on footstools. Their younger brother Apollonius stands to their left, holding a staV that is slightly visible behind his right hand (see Frontispiece).253 Much of the detail of the Wgures, especially of their faces, has been lost, but it is clear that Spartocus and Paerisades have beards and long hair falling over their shoulders, and that the three men wear Greek himatia. Perhaps these features reXect the way the sons of Leucon actually looked, or wished to be portrayed, but clearly the most important question for our purpose is what they meant to the Athenians who made and looked at them. The Wrst thing that comes to our attention, despite the poor preservation of details, is how greatly the sons of Leucon diVer from the Athenian perception of Scythians. The Scythian archer had long been familiar to Athenians, both from art, and personally from service (as slaves) in the city’s police corps and contact in the Persian Wars.254 Many similarities with this type appear also in depictions of oriental kings and princes, and especially those that are depicted in a seated posture provide a stark and interesting contrast with the sons of Leucon.255 It is obvious when we compare a seated Paris with Spartocus and Paerisades that there is no trace in the latter of features that any Greek would perceive as characteristic of Scythian or oriental monarchy. Instead, the Bosporan kings belong to the mainstream of current Athenian depictions of gods and mortals,256 with one possible exception—their long hair. One could interpret this last feature as ‘‘an attempt at

253 Alternatively, the standing Wgure could be a personiWcation of the Athenian demos, a fact which would accord nicely with the diVerence in his hair length, and underline the message of friendship voiced in the text, but otherwise change little in my interpretation of the iconography. 254 See Vos (1963), passim; cf. Ivanchik (2005), who classes the Wgures as generic epic archers; Ba¨bler (2005). 255 See ARV 1052.25 (perhaps depicting the god Sabazius, from Spina); and especially 1551.22, 1698 (from Monte Pruno, near Paestum). The classic ‘‘seated prince’’ scene is the Judgment of Paris: (450–400) 1315.1, 1690 (from Ruvo, in Lucania); 1318 (from Orvieto); (400–300): Munich 2439, Boardman (1989) pl. 428 (from Alexandria). See also (475–25): ARV 1065.8, (standing king, inscribed). 256 See e.g. the sculpture of the Athenian Parthenon, especially its frieze. See also (400–300): Hermitage KAB6A (showing Kekrops? after the Parthenon west pediment, from Panticapaeum).



characterizing them as foreigners’’,257 but this would go against the sense of the rest of the decree, which we have seen takes pains to characterize them as Athenian citizens (e.g. by the omission of their titulature and nationality, and by the rest of their appearance on the relief). Instead, we should note that long hair is a common and longstanding feature of Homeric kings, heroes, gods, and aristocratic youth in Athenian vase painting, and interpret its depiction in this relief in this connection.258 In sculptural terms, therefore, we have a quintessentially aristocratic monument in the long tradition going back to long-haired Archaic kouroi.259 An Athenian audience would recognize their long hair as an old-fashioned luxury, harking back to Archaic days, when a wealthy citizen would tie his long hair in a bun (Œæøº ), and wore linen undergarments.260 Even further back in time were Homer’s ‘‘long-haired Achaeans’’.261 But in Wfth-century Athens long hair had become an anachronism, a mark of the oligarch: ‘‘in Aristophanes, it will be remembered, e Œ A [to grow one’s hair long], though characteristic of the young aristocrat and so of the luxurious, is also symbolic of Lakonomania’’.262 In fact, the idiomatic meaning 257 Lawton (1995), no. 35, p. 98; also p. 61 (‘‘long, un-Greek hairstyles’’). 258 M. Meyer (1989), 65, 97–9, 186, 211–14, 290 (A88); Boardman (1973). There are many examples in vase-painting: (525–475 bc): ARV 206.124, 1633 (Ganymede, by the Berlin Painter) 215.10 (Zeus, by the Berlin Painter); (500–450 bc): 248.1 (Zeus by the Diogenes Painter, from Panticapaeum); 510.3 (Zeus, Nereus); 511.3 (Zeus); 533.58 (Zeus); (475–25 bc): 638.47; 840.53; 980.1; 1671.20bis; 638.46 (Zeus); 639.54, 1663 (Zeus); 882.35, 1673 (aristocratic youth); (450–400 bc): 1172.11 (king, from Attica); 1325.49 (Apollo); (400–300 bc): 1440.1 (Dionysus, from Panticapaeum); 1476.1, 1695 (from Panticapaeum); 1515.80; 1418.3 (Apollo); 1523.1 (Apollo riding griYn), 1472.2. Murray (1993), 210, remarks for the Archaic Period: ‘‘the great majority of representations on Greek painted pottery reXect the tastes and inclinations of the aristocracy for whose banquets they were made and decorated’’. This probably applied as well for the Classical Period, and thus helps to explain the simultaneous disappearance of aristocratic long hair in public monuments, and its permanence in vase painting. 259 See e.g. Cleobis and Biton (Delphi Museum 467 and 1524), around 580 bc; the Moschophoros (Acropolis 624), around 560 bc. See Hurwit, 199, pls. 85, 104. 260 Thuc. 1.3. 261 Il. 2.11, et passim, Œ ø  `ÆØ . 262 Gomme, on Thuc. 1.6.4. See Ar. Eq. 580, 1121; Nub. 545; Av. 911; Plut. 572; Vesp. 466, 1267. For Spartan long hair, see Hdt. 1.82.8; 7.209.3; Xen. Lac. 11.3; 13.8; Arist. Rhet. 1367a28–32: x K ¸ÆŒÆ  Ø Œ A ŒÆº : KºıŁæ ı ªaæ  E : P ªæ K Ø Œ H Æ Þfi Ø Pb  ØE æª Ł ØŒ . Loeb trans.: ‘‘in Lacedaemon it

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of e Œ A is ‘‘to plume oneself ’’, to engage in essentially undemocratic behaviour.263 Unsurprisingly, it was short-haired politicians who guided the Classical demos, short-haired cavalrymen who dominated the Parthenon frieze; the ‘‘Old Oligarch’’ could even remark that from a man’s outward appearance it was impossible to tell in Athens whether he was citizen or slave.264 There were, of course, aristocratic non-conformists, like a certain Mantitheus who defended himself against accusations of riding for the Thirty Tyrants in 404/3: he asks his jury not to judge him by his hair but by his actions.265 One could say the sons of Leucon did not have the problems of a Mantitheus: their deeds towards Athens were beyond reproach, and it was understood (even if unexpressed by the text under the relief) that they were kings. But why, in the Wrst place, would their relief allow their long hair to suggest, even vaguely, their monarchical incongruity with the Athenian democracy, especially if Androtion had taken pains to ‘‘democratize’’ the kings in the text below? Another look at the locks of Mantitheus suggests the answer, for here is a remarkable instance of an aristocratic defendant who, despite being accused of oligarchic leanings, not only fails to trim his hair before his trial, but actually goes out of his way to bring it to the attention of his jury. How can we explain this? The tactics of modern trial lawyers who dress their clients in scrupulous deference to the taste of the average juror would not have been out of place in the courtrooms of Classical Athens, where the bringing out of children and relatives, acts of is noble to wear one’s hair long, for it is the mark of a gentleman, the performance of any servile task being diYcult for one whose hair is long’’. As Aristotle realizes, long hair can well be seen as an expression of pecuniary culture, insignia of leisure. However, Veblen has surprisingly little to say about it in his chapter on dress (‘‘it hampers the wearer at every turn and incapacitates . . . for all useful exertion’’: (1899), 105), and nothing on the role of politics as a catalyst for changes in fashion: we might, for example, instructively look at the hair (real or fake) of European heads of state from the seventeenth century to the modern day. 263 See e.g. Ar. Nub. 545; Vesp. 1317; also Hdt. 5.71 on Cylon, synonymous with ‘‘aiming at tyranny’’: y  Kd ıæÆ

Ø KŒ . 264 [Xen.] Ath. Pol. 1.10. 265 Lys. 16.18–19: PŒ [æc] Y Ø Œ fi A, Øa F ØE . . . Iºº KŒ H æªø Œ E . The speech dates from the late 390s, so Mantitheus’ age must have been about thirty (a fact which qualiWes the meaning of ‘‘young aristocrat’’) if he could be accused of serving in the cavalry more than ten years previously.



humble prostration before the uncontested authority of the demos, were matters of course even for the proudest.266 Therefore, unless we are prepared to ascribe Mantitheus’ defence to the naivete´ or shoddy work of Lysias, or the depiction of the long-haired Spartocus and Paerisades to the iconographic insensitivity of their sculptors or of Androtion, we must take them seriously as strategies, as symbolic and valuable assertions of abiding aristocratic power in a democratic context.267 In other words, both cases call for explanation in terms of Athenian doublethink. In this sense it is crucial to note Mantitheus’ alibi for that terrible year of oligarchic rule at Athens: he claims his father sent him away to live with Satyrus of Pontus, the grandfather of Spartocus and Paerisades.268 No mention that ‘‘Satyrus’’ is King Satyrus, of course, but anyone could be expected to know this, and at Wrst sight the court of a monarch would be the least Wtting place to establish one’s democratic credentials. Is this another bungled apology with more to discredit it than to recommend it? On the contrary, these strategies were expected to succeed beautifully in Athens, because there was a tacit understanding that inXuential overseas connections, especially those on which the Athenian grain supply rested, were in the hands of suitably ‘‘democratized’’ kings and aristocrats. Whenever it was useful to articulate that understanding (as it was in Androtion’s decree, Demosthenes’ Against Leptines, or Mantitheus’ defence), subtle reminders of powerful connections had to be employed: for the legislator, sculpted kings who looked like young Athenian aristocrats; for the orator, priceless and detailed information on imported quantities, on tax savings, on foreign harbours, all matters of vital state concern; for the defendant, royal name-dropping and, in the apologia of his hair, the drawing of additional indicia of wealth and power to the attention of his jurors. These are, in conclu266 See Pl. Ap. 34d, 35b; Dem. 21.99, 186; 53.29; Hyp. Eux. col. 32; and the parody of this in Ar. Vesp. 548–75; 975–83 (trial of the dog). Demosthenes himself is said to have used his children to elicit compassion in his trial in the Harpalus scandal (Ath. 13.592e). 267 Cf. Donlan [1980], 176, who thinks that ‘‘aristocratic life and style of life are distinct hindrances’’ by the mid-fourth century, and Ober (1989), 246–7, who modiWes this line, but is hardly more convincing: ‘‘Popular tolerance for a display of wealth in public speeches and money making from political activities allowed and encouraged the rhetores to fulWl properly their political role’’. 268 Lys. 16.4.

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sion, identical but inWnitely more subtle strategies than those Andocides employed.

D. The Political Associates of Androtion On the rider of Androtion’s decree we Wnd Polyeuctus, the son of Timocrates, proposing that the younger brother of the kings, Apollonius, be accorded the same honours proposed by Androtion for Spartocus and Paerisades. Androtion as the elder statesman has clearly taken the more substantial and prestigious part of the decree as his own proposal, and is allowing the son of his associate Timocrates to have the smaller share.269 With the inclusion of Polyeuctus and Timocrates in this decree we have the nucleus of a political association of great importance to our study, since it can be traced in some detail in various speeches of the Demosthenic corpus. The violent rhetoric that Demosthenes adopts against these men allows us to examine to what extent politicians whose names appeared in a prominent honorary monument in connection with overseas kings, merchants, and the grain trade, could also be readily made by their enemies into anti-democratic personae before an Athenian audience. It shows exactly what an aggressive and competent prosecutor would want to stress, and how far he would be willing to go. The case of Polyeuctus is perhaps the most interesting of the three, despite the fact that he appears only on the sidelines of two speeches by Demosthenes. His proposal of the rider associating the Bosporan prince Apollonius with the honours of his brothers recalls Demosthenes’ invective six years earlier against this political habit, brought about ‘‘by the corruption of these abominable politicians, hated by the gods, easy to get to legislate such things’’.270 Demosthenes lists some examples: ‘‘they resolved that not only Ariobarzanes himself 269 According to Demosthenes, by 355 Androtion had taken part in public life for more than thirty years (Dem. 22.66; 24.173), and had appointed Timocrates as his associate in tax-collecting on grounds of ill health (Dem. 24.160). I disagree with Sealey (1993), 120, who sees Polyeuctus’ rider as a result of Androtion’s overlooking to mention all three of the sons of Leucon. 270 Dem. 23.201 (Against Aristocrates composed for one Euthycles; date: 352): Øa

c H ŒÆ Ææ ø ŒÆd Ł E KŁæH Þ æø , H a ØÆF Æ ªæÆ ø , ø,  æ Æ . . .



and his sons, three in all, had a right to receive everything they wished for, but also associated with him two men of Abydus’’;271 likewise, with Timotheus they associated Phrasierides and Polysthenes; and with Cersobleptes, the mercenary leader Charidemus (whom Demosthenes attacks throughout that speech) and ‘‘a man whom no one in the whole world knows, by the name of Euderces’’.272 The type of politician who could be accused of engaging in this type of honoriWc legislation on behalf of foreigners was moved by ‘‘sordid love of gain’’ (ÆNæ Œæ Æ)273 to accept private beneWts.274 and become vastly wealthier than their fellow Athenians: ‘‘some of them have constructed private homes grander than many public buildings, and others have bought together more land than all of you in this courtroom own’’.275 We shall repeatedly see accusations of this kind of invidious behaviour by Polyeuctus, Androtion, and Timocrates, but we must also remember how much Demosthenes was like them. Despite railing against the bronze statues set up by venal politicians,276 Demosthenes himself is accused years later by Dinarchus of setting up in the agora bronze statues of Paerisades, Satyrus and Gorgippus, ‘‘the tyrants ( æÆ

Ø) of Pontus’’, in exchange for enormous yearly bounties of grain.277 We shall see many other similar points of connection. Back to Polyeuctus. His father Timocrates and a certain Euctemon appear as the main supporters of Meidias in a speech Demosthenes composed for himself but never delivered.278 Polyeuctus also appears 271 Dem. 23.202; cf. ll. 18–20 in the inscription honouring Spartocus and Paerisades, above: ÆF Æ  Ø F  P e[] I ı[ ]ıØ F  ı F `Ł Æ ø . 272 Dem. 23.203. 273 Dem. 23.201. 274 Dem. 23.185: L  Ø N fi Æ  øØ . 275 Dem. 23.208; note that the use of the verb ı   ÆØ (aor. ıæ ÆŁÆØ) here oVers an excellent parallel to the word’s general anti-democratic associations in Lysias 22, which would make both of the particular meanings suggested for that case equally invidious. 276 Dem. 23.196. 277 Din. 1.43. See pp. 220–5 above, for this type of argument used to attack other politicians. 278 Dem. 21.139 (Against Meidias; date: c.347/6). As a good example of how rhetorically fungible was the class of Athenian politicians, consider that the ‘‘dirtbag’’ Euctemon is probably the associate of the Diodorus for whom Demosthenes composed Against Androtion and Against Timocrates. The great gang of wealthy men (º Ø Ø  ºº d ı  Œ ), whom Demosthenes aligns with Meidias later in the

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as one of the supporters of the defendant Phaenippus in a speech Demosthenes composed for a plaintiV who claims to have made (but subsequently lost) a fortune in the mining business.279 The greatest interest of both of these speeches lies in their common argumentative focus on wealth as an attribute of oligarchy: Demosthenes and his (similarly wealthy) client claim to be poor compared to their opponents, Meidias and Phaenippus and their associates, who are depicted as a rich jet-set bent on wronging and cheating the democracy and the common people ( ƒ  æØ Ø, ƒ  ºº , ƒ   ØŒ ).280 Demosthenes’ pathetic description of his pauperized self in Against Meidias is suYciently distanced from the person we know as the historical Demosthenes to be a perfect revelation of his character-creation in these speeches:281 . . . not being one of the most friendless or completely destitute persons, I do not know, men of Athens, what I must do. For (if I may also say something about this) according to the rich the rest of us, men of Athens, have no share in equal or fair rights. No share, none.282

Both speeches are full of similar populist rhetoric,283 precious portrayals of popular perceptions of Athenian politicians and their economic status. Demosthenes’ public suit against Polyeuctus’ friend Meidias stems from the physical assault and other alleged outrages the latter carried out against Demosthenes while he was a choregos at the City Dionysia.284 The anti-democratic character of Meidias evinced by this central act of impiety towards the state religion285 is further embroidered by numerous similar acts during his life, beginning with his speech, include his political enemy Eubulus (206) and many others, such as a banker ( æÆ" ) named Blepaeus (215). 279 Dem. 42.11, 20 (Against Phaenippus; date: after 330/29). 280 Dem. 21.183, 209. 281 On the wealth of Demosthenes, see APF, 126–38. 282 Dem. 21.111–12. 283 Dem. 21.67, 96, 109, 123–5, 138, 143, 151, 174, 183, 195, 203–4, 209; Dem. 42.3, 20, 24, 31. 284 Dem. 21.1 (the suit is a æ  º). The outrages included bribing Demosthenes’ ÆPº  (17), attempting to destroy the sacred raiment and the golden crowns ordered by Demosthenes (16), and bribing the umpires to vote against Demosthenes’ tribe (5). 285 Dem. 21.51.



forcible entrance years earlier into the women’s quarters of Demosthenes’ house.286 By comparison, Demosthenes’ character is that of the public-spirited democrat, claiming to bring his public prosecution for the good of the city instead of avenging himself through a private suit.287 Intrinsically coupled with this democratic character is a legalistic one, an equation Demosthenes encapsulates succinctly by telling the jurors, ‘‘the laws are strong through you and you through the laws’’.288 Let us now turn from Polyeuctus to the main proposer of the decree honouring the kings of Bosporus. Androtion appears as a defendant in two prosecution speeches written by Demosthenes for a certain Diodorus. The Wrst is Against Androtion.289 Like the speaker in Lysias 22, the persona Demosthenes forges for his client is that of the staunch democrat as an unbending legalist. Androtion is cast as the smooth-talking oligarch trying to overthrow the democracy by manipulating and destroying its laws. Instead of having to earn an honest living like the men of the jury, he appears as having the leisure to devote his entire life to becoming an expert rhetorician.290 Picking up on the theme of the cabal already encountered so often, Demosthenes portrays Androtion as one of the ‘‘customary gang of orators’’ ( H MŁø ŒÆd ı  Œ ø Þ æø ) who have sabotaged Athenian politics for their own private gain against ordinary people ( ƒ NØH ÆØ).291 It is among the latter that the speaker groups himself, stressing that the safety of the democracy lies in the strict observance of the laws.292 The simple strategy of the legalistic persona is to list every single illegality that could possibly be alleged against the opponent, and to label any defence or justiWcation he might raise as proof of his wish to overthrow the democracy. Androtion has legislated without a preliminary decree of the Council (æ  ºıÆ);293 proposed to 286 Dem. 21.78–9. 287 Dem. 21.25–6, 28. 288 Dem. 21.224: ƒ  Ø Ł !E NØ Nıæ d ŒÆd !E E  Ø. 289 Dem. 22 (date: 355): this is a ªæÆc ÆæÆ ø against Androtion’s proposed łØÆ to crown the Council of 356–5. 290 Dem. 22.4:   F ºªØ ŒÆd  Æ e  KºÆŒ , d  fiø. Androtion had in fact studied rhetoric under Isocrates. He wrote an Atthis during his eventual exile in Megara. See Tod II, 156–7 for references. 291 Dem. 22.37. 292 Dem. 22.11. 293 Dem. 22.5–7.

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crown the Council despite its failure to build triremes;294 and participated in politics despite his inabilities as a prostitute and son of a state debtor.295 Demosthenes correspondingly urges the audience not to listen to any precedents as justiWcation, or to procedural arguments that might distract them from applying the law: never mind that Androtion has followed precedent in crowning the Council without a preliminary decree;296 accept no excuses for the missing triremes;297 disregard the fact that he has never actually been convicted as a prostitute or state debtor!298 Androtion’s defences are deXected as evidence that he is an oligarch: Demosthenes argues that since triremes are a mainstay of the Athenian democracy (among other things they ensure the city’s supply of food),299 by crowning a Council that failed to build them Androtion is showing his true political colours.300 The law against prostitution is similarly democratic, because debauched politicians (either to cover their misdeeds or to debauch others with impunity) naturally incline to oligarchy.301 Androtion’s other defences, and Wnally his public services, are similarly dealt with. Demosthenes here expansively portrays the oligarchic ethos, beginning with Androtion’s past role as a collector of property taxes (N æÆ ). In principle, the topic of tax-collecting posed few problems for Demosthenes. As was normal throughout Classical Greece, this was an activity carried out by private individuals like Andocides and Agyrrhius, men who stood economically and socially above the average citizen by having the wealth and the connections to buy from the state the right to collect its revenue.302 Besides this important fact, however, the Athenian tax-man was nowhere nearly as invidious as his modern counterpart in popular thought. This is because Athenian property taxes were collected only from the wealthy, and could therefore be seen as democratic redistributions, as in fact Demosthenes expects Androtion to boast.303 Demosthenes handles this problem rhetorically by slipping wealthy taxpayers into 294 Dem. 22.8. 295 Dem. 22.21–4, 33–4. 296 Dem. 22.5–7. 297 Dem. 22.19. 298 Dem. 22.23, 33–4. 299 Dem. 22.15. 300 Dem. 22.12–16. 301 Dem. 22.31–2. 302 See the discussion on Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros in Chapter 3, pp. 102–15; see also Antiph. frags. A 1–2 for Lindos and Samothrace. 303 Dem. 22.42; see Hansen (1999), 112.



the guise of ordinary people ( ƒ NØH ÆØ), referring to Androtion’s victims as ‘‘tillers of the earth, modest folk who missed a tax payment through the expense of raising their children, and keeping their homes, and performing other liturgies’’.304 This strategy should be seen as the creation of an ethos about which there is much more to say. Because the high oratory that survives from antiquity is almost without exception the composition or literary predilection of the educated and wealthy, it is hardly surprising that this is the rhetorical persona for the Athenian propertied class that pervades our corpus. We would be naive if we swallowed Demosthenes’ patently devious suggestion that wealthy Athenian taxpayers were in reality virtuous and frugal farmers, devoted to a land economy in excellent Ischomachean fashion.305 Since Androtion could therefore claim to be a populist taxenforcer on the rich, Demosthenes’ Wnal resort is to dismiss his tax-collecting as ineVectual in improving the city’s Wnances, besides (of course) being another example of his veiled attempts to subvert the democracy.306 Androtion will appear ‘‘shameless and insolent, a thief and an overweening man, and good for anything besides political life in a democracy’’;307 his insolence (oæØ) shows him to be unsuited by birth and by education ( P  Ø fiB Ø Pb fiB ÆØ fi Æ) to the customs of free citizens ( ƒ KºŁæ Ø).308 By arresting tax-defaulting citizens and metics he has treated them like slaves, since freemen are liable upon their property, not upon their persons;309 by entering their homes with the Eleven he has acted more savagely than the Thirty Tyrants and undermined the spirit of the democracy ( e   ØŒ ).310 Finally, Demosthenes turns to Androtion’s past service as repairer of processional ornaments. Besides subverting the basic principles of democratic collegiality (‘‘one and the same man was orator, 304 Dem. 22.65: ƒ ªøæª F  ŒÆd Ø Ø, Øa ÆØ æ  Æ b ŒÆd NŒE I ƺÆ Æ ŒÆd ºfi ıæª Æ , æÆ Kººº Ø  N æ . 305 A version of the idea is enshrined in Finley, e.g. (1973), 122. It has fortunately taken very hard knocks since then (e.g. Shipton (2000)), but still lives in its fullest romantic expression in the politically inXuential work of Hanson (1995). 306 Dem. 22.44, 51, 60–1, 63. 307 Dem. 22.47: ŒÆd ªaæ I ÆØB ŒÆd ŁæÆf ŒÆd Œº ŒÆd !æÆ ŒÆd  Æ Aºº j K   ŒæÆ fi Æ  ºØ ŁÆØ KØ Ø Z ÆP e  ø. 308 Dem. 22.58. 309 Dem. 22.53–5. 310 Dem. 22.51–2.

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goldsmith, treasurer, and secretary’’311), and replacing crowns for libation bowls and other plate, symbols of merit (Iæ ) for symbols of wealth (º F ), Androtion has inscribed his own name on public dedications and eVaced that of the demos.312 The peroration is a brilliant gloriWcation of the Athenian democracy, meant to highlight Androtion’s complete incongruity with the city’s political system.313 The second speech attacking Androtion, Against Timocrates, expands on these same themes, now casting Polyeuctus’ father Timocrates in the oligarchic ethos as the partner of Androtion.314 The speech argues for the illegality and the inexpediency of Timocrates’ law allowing state debtors to demand their release from imprisonment upon the presentation of guarantors approved by the Assembly, and to postpone their duty to pay their debt until the ninth prytany.315 Demosthenes alleges that Timocrates has passed this law to help Androtion, who while on embassy to King Mausolus of Caria with two other men, Melanopus and Glaucetes, had captured a merchant ship from Naucratis. The detail suggests the same type of association between Androtion and his associates with foreign kings and overseas trade that is suggested by his decree honouring the sons of Leucon, but Demosthenes makes no rhetorical capital of this, referring to the king simply as ‘‘Mausolus’’.316 Demosthenes’ focus is on the fact that Androtion, on his return, had been adjudged by a court to owe the conWscated goods (worth a hefty 57,000 dr.) to the state.317 The rest of the speech Against Timocrates contains all the features now familiar to us. Once more, the prosecutor assumes the legalist persona against his opponents;318 and again his opponents are a cadre of oligarchs intent on overthrowing popular government. Again, the speaker is a public-spirited democrat Wghting a powerful ring of corruption.319 But the speech is especially interesting as one of the lengthiest surviving expositions of Athenian legislative procedure,320

311 Dem. 22.70. 312 Dem. 22.73–5. 313 Dem. 22.76–8. 314 Dem. 24 (date: 353). Much of the speech is, in fact, a repetition word by word of Against Androtion. 315 Dem. 24.98. 316 Dem. 24.12. 317 Dem. 24.11–16. 318 See Dem. 24.5. 319 Dem. 24.3. 320 Dem. 24.17 V.



meant to demonstrate in detail that any deviation from the existing laws of Athens would be detrimental to the democracy. So slow should Athens be to change its laws, that the Locrians, who legislate ‘‘with a noose around their necks’’ (K æfiø e æ º ø ), are praised by Demosthenes as the world’s ideal legislators.321 The fact that the law of Timocrates would eVectively allow the Assembly to alter the judgment of a court by postponing the imprisonment of a defendant and the payment of his debts to the state, leads Demosthenes to claim that the courts (ØŒÆ æØÆ) are the cornerstones of the democracy,322 which Solon determined should have unlimited authority.323 Although Hansen has taken statements like this as evidence that the ‘‘People’s Court’’ was the ‘‘supreme body of government’’ in fourth-century Athens,324 the fact is that, at least here, Demosthenes is merely placing his opponent squarely in conXict with the jury by portraying him as an oligarch: ‘‘I think that everyone will agree that to invalidate judicial decisions is dangerous, unholy, and the end to popular government’’.325 We must also notice all the other ways, besides invalidating the courts, by which Timocrates is allegedly trying to overthrow democracy. For example, by allowing the postponement of the payment of debts to the state, Timocrates is destroying the revenues that allow for the regular meetings of the Assembly, the Council, and the Law Courts (› B  ŒÆd   ıºc ŒÆd

a ØŒÆ æØÆ): ‘‘will we then still be living under a democracy?’’ (r

 Ø   ŒæÆ ŁÆ;), Demosthenes cries.326 Using once again the familiar theme of the conspiring cabal, Demosthenes depicts Timocrates and his associates colluding (ı Æ Ø) to pass their law in secret while the city is occupied with the Panathenaic festival.327 The subversive nature of their meeting is intensiWed by the fact that they abuse the religion of the polis in 321 Dem. 24.139. 322 Dem. 24.2: L  ŒE ı Ø c  ºØ  Æ , a ØŒÆ æØÆ, ÆF ¼ŒıæÆ  ØE. . . . 323 Dem. 24.148: ± ø ªaæ ŒıæØ Æ fiþ E r ÆØ e ØŒÆ æØ . 324 See Hansen (1999), 303. 325 Dem. 24.152: ‰ b a ØŒÆ Æ ¼ŒıæÆ  ØE ŒÆd Ø e ŒÆd I Ø K Ø ŒÆd  ı ŒÆ ºıØ,  Æ i rÆØ › º ªBÆØ. See also Dem. 24.154. 326 Dem. 24.99. Another example: Androtion and Timocrates become taxcollectors without being appointed by lot. Election by lot, like the courts, could also be seen as the ‘‘cornerstone of the democracy’’: see Headlam (1933), passim. 327 Dem. 24.26–32.

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this way, and by refusing to repay a debt that is partially owing to the sacred treasuries.328 Special attention is later given to previous instances of misconduct, treason, and impiety by Androtion, Glaucetes, and Melanopus, with emphasis on Glaucetes’ alleged escape to Decelea sixty years earlier to ally himself with the Spartan invaders.329 Demosthenes exploits the wealth of his opponents, and the power associated with their position as ambassadors, to employ repeatedly a rhetoric of political and economic discontent: the law of Timocrates would put the poor at the mercy of the rich, sacriWce the helpless to the strong and insolent, and place ‘‘us’’ the common people ( ƒ  ºº d E) in the hands of would-be despots like the defendants.330 Timocrates is explicitly compared to Critias of the Thirty Tyrants.331 The speeches we have been reviewing are useful not only in illuminating the political personae created by the enemies of Androtion and his political associates, but also ultimately in presenting other characters for the sake of comparison. Demosthenes reminds his audience of a number of Athenian citizens who were allegedly as wealthy as the defendants, and yet submitted to the control of the demos by accepting imprisonment. It is signiWcant that among them is Agyrrhius, referred to as ‘‘a good man, one of the people, and zealous in all matters for the mass of your citizens’’;332 and some persons jailed ‘‘for being convicted of breaking the grain-laws’’ ( ƒ æd e E IØŒE Æ ). The jury is reminded of its previous implacability in punishing other Athenian politicians, including one Philip, the son of a wealthy shipowner ( ÆŒº æ ) (also named

328 Dem. 24.120. 329 Dem. 24.128. 330 See e.g. Dem. 24.112: ‘‘I would consider any punishment just against a man who, when some Iª æÆ  , or I ı  , or ØŒÆ  ŒÆ a  ı—someone poor ( ), and unskilled (NØ ), and without much experience ( ººH ¼Øæ ), and a magistrate by lot (Œº æø c Iæc ¼æÆ)—is convicted of theft in his audit, thinks it right that he should pay a Wne of ten times the amount, and lays down no law for the relief of such persons; but then, when some ambassadors (æØ) who have been elected by the demos, and despite being rich (º Ø Ø Z ) have stolen and held for a long time great sums belonging in part to the gods, in part to the state, has so anxiously arranged that these people suVer none of the penalties set forth by the laws and the decrees.’’ See also Dem. 24.169, 171. 331 Dem. 24.90. 332 Dem. 24.134. See pp. 256–7 above.



Philip), who barely escaped the death penalty in a previous case by paying a large Wne.333 Demosthenes’ argument here again reveals the complicated tension between his democratic persona (one of ‘‘the multitude’’ ( ƒ  ºº d)) and powerful men involved in the Athenian grain supply. He tells us that Agyrrhius, the nameless grain-convicts, and the son of Philip the shipowner may have been criminals, but they are ‘‘all better men than Androtion’’334 because they did not use their power to aim at tyranny. He contrasts Timocrates and Androtion with the politician Callistratus and his uncle Agyrrhius along the same line: Callistratus, despite being at the height of his power, did not pass any laws to help Agyrrhius avoid punishment by the demos.335 Demosthenes is clearly using the argument of precedent: ‘‘if you convicted those defendants, who were not aiming at tyranny, surely you must convict these, who are’’. But Demosthenes’ references to overseas trade and the grain supply also have an important point. Without explicitly saying that Androtion and his friends are engaged in these activities, Demosthenes is comparing them to men who were so engaged, but who were convicted despite of it. This is, in other words, the subtle refutation of the just as subtle defence which (Demosthenes anticipated) Timocrates and Androtion would make: they would inevitably drop royal names (that of Mausolus is the obvious candidate) and intimate their overseas power and inXuence; they would use clever symbols and coy insinuations of their control over the grain trade. But because it did not beneWt them to adopt the strategy of an Andocides, and actually to claim the friendship of kings, Demosthenes did not expect explicitness—or indeed desire to elicit it, for it might actually work in their favour. We must not forget that although Andocides was unsuccessful, he was not necessarily also inept. For Demosthenes there was the more recent warning of Timotheus, who was prosecuted in the winter of 373/2, but acquitted 333 Dem. 24.136, 138 (the suit was a ªæÆc  c KØ Ø ŁE ÆØ). Philip the

ÆŒº æ  is the same man who in 373/2 (twenty years before Against Timocrates) sailed in the Athenian Xeet and during the voyage lent Timotheus 1,000 dr.: [Dem.] 49.14–17. His being an Athenian citizen like his son is assured by the fact that he was almost certainly a trierarch sailing with his treasurer (cf. [Dem.] 49.7, 14), Antiphanes of Lamptrae, a member of a prominent Athenian family (see APF 59). 334 Dem. 24.137:   º ı ` æ ø  Z . 335 Dem. 24.135.

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after calling Jason and Alcetas, the tyrants of Pherae and of Epirus respectively, to appear in an Athenian court in his support.336 We can now summarize the purpose of all these rhetorical acrobatics. In the hands of a prosecutor, they were meant to underline to a democratic public that the defendant, as a member of the wealthiest Athenian class, was part of a powerful oligarchic group.337 In other words, they were meant to win the case. Often, however, the prosecutor had to face the most important corollary of that power, namely that the prerogatives of members of the elite on the fringes of the Greek world (whether traveling as ambassadors, generals, trierarchs, or tax-collectors, or simply guiding policy from home) also allowed them to gain and monopolize personal and business contacts with foreign kings. Because these contacts were at the heart of the fourth-century Athenian grain supply, and thus gave the Athenian elite control over the survival of their community, they posed an immense problem for the politics of Athenian democracy, and thus for its oratory. The problem was, in short: how to persuade others (and, in the nature of doublethink, even oneself!) that the Athenian demos was always in control of its grain supply, while simultaneously accepting and perpetuating a system both essential for the polis, and essentially elitist.

E. Emporoi and Naukleroi and Athenian Politicians: Conclusion Admittedly, an analysis based on rhetorical strategy and popular mentality will never convince those who prefer counting heads. We can conWrm that on that basis, with the exception of Andocides during his exile, we have indeed failed to Wnd a single politically prominent Athenian who is also a merchant or shipowner.338 However, if the arguments above are correct, thousands of average Athenian jurors understood that their prominent politicians played the most crucial 336 [Dem.] 49.10, 22–3. 337 This is therefore merely another aspect of the well-known ambiguity between the gift and the bribe in Athenian democratic ideology: see Hansen (1975), index s.v. Hæ . 338 See Ste Croix (1972), 267.



role in the Athenian grain supply, and that without them there would be no trade to speak of with the peripheries of the Greek world (i.e. wherever monarchs or aristocrats could control this supply). By deWnition, successful Athenian politicians wore their democratic gloves so well when they touched the grain supply, that instead of Wngerprints they left only glove-marks, the depersonalized, broad, and artiWcial patterns and strategies of democratic rhetoric. We now know that Demosthenes, Philocrates, and Aeschines were enriching themselves through the sale of goods (especially wheat and timber) delivered from Bosporus and Macedonia.339 Did they themselves, eVectively working as traders, transport these goods to Athens? They could easily have combined such activity with any of the various types of expeditions that would take Athenian aristocrats abroad. Demosthenes, for example, accuses Meidias of buying oV his cavalry service with a trierarchy, and then attacks the trierarchy as follows: Not so behaved the cavalry-commander Meidias, but instead abandoned the post that the laws assigned to him, and this, for which he ought to be punished by the state, he counts as part of his benefaction (Pæª Æ). But by the gods! should we call such a trierarchy as his a service of distinction (غ Ø Æ), or should we call it becoming a tax-farmer ( ºø Æ), buying the rights to a toll (literally the two-percent tax,  Œ  ), going AWOL, escaping from military service, and everything else of that sort? For unable to make himself exempt (I º) from cavalry service in any other way, Meidias has invented some new ‘‘cavalry auction’’ (ƒØŒc  Œ  ). And besides, while all the other contributing trierarchs were serving as your escorts when you were sailing back here from Styra, this man alone was not escorting you, but without a care for you was bringing back vine-props, cattle, and framed doors for himself, and timber for his silver mines.340 For this spew of a man his trierarchy became, not a liturgy, but a lucrative job (æ Æ Ø).341 339 See above, pp. 220–5. 340 The scholiast to this passage says:  Łø ªaæ a  ƺºÆ Ææa B ºø L q F Iæªıæ ı; he appears as a lessee of the silver mines on two surviving leases: Crosby (1950), 243, l. 76, and 249, l. 82 (¼ IG II2 1582). As Davies says (APF, 386): ‘‘it is a probable guess that the silver mines provided much of the wherewithal for his conspicuous expenditure’’, which included a choregia and at least one voluntary trierarchy. 341 Dem. 21.166–7. The passage shows that Athenian tax-farmers were exempt from liturgies and military service, as does [Dem.] 59.27 for the  Œ   F  ı.

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The so-called proxenia of Meidias with Plutarchus, the tyrant of Eretria, vividly alleged later in the speech, may have helped him in this business, though Demosthenes does not say so.342 He does, however, note that Meidias’ Wrst inclination, until he was called again to serve in the cavalry, had been to remain in Athens, and to send a metic, an Egyptian named Pamphilus, to serve as captain of his trireme in his place.343 The alleged ‘‘lucrative job’’ (æ Æ Ø) of Meidias could have been equally well performed by Pamphilus. Responsibilities of this kind were given by wealthy Athenians to other metics, like a Megarian named Philondas, who is said by Apollodorus in his suit against Timotheus to have been ‘‘a man loyally devoted to the defendant and employed in his service’’.344 In the summer of 372, before Timotheus quit Athens to serve as general in Egypt for Artaxerxes II (as Apollodorus tells the court), Timotheus appointed Philondas as his agent to sail to Macedon, there to receive a cargo of timber as a gift from King Amyntas to Timotheus, and to freight the timber back to Athens. In addition, Timotheus is said to have given private oral instructions to Pasion the banker to lend to Philondas, as his agent, the money for the freight, taking Timotheus as security for the loan.345 Upon Philondas’ return from Macedon with the timber, Pasion accordingly loaned him 1,750 dr. to settle with the shipowner, whereupon Philondas delivered the goods to the house of Timotheus in Piraeus. Philondas then died sometime later, after which Timotheus returned to Athens. Once there, by denying Philondas’ agency, he refused to pay back the loan, arguing that Philondas had borrowed personally and for the purpose of trade (K æ Æ  ŒÆ) from Pasion, on security of timber which did not belong to Timotheus (although Timotheus admitted it was delivered 342 Dem. 21.200: —º ı æ ı æ  E, Iææ r  ,  ºØ ÆP e P øæE (‘‘he is the proxenos of Plutarchus, he knows all the secrets, the city cannot hold him!’’); see also 21.110 ( . . . —º  Ææ  ›  ı   ŒÆd  º  . . . ). 343 Dem. 21.163. 344 [Dem.] 49.26 (date: 362): Ø H b ı fiH ØÆŒ  ŒÆd ! æ F Æ. It is probably men like Philondas and Pamphilus (! æ ÆØ) whom Androtion’s decree would send to the sons of Leucon. A man like Philondas could undoubtedly combine military service to the sons of Leucon with commercial service to the son of Conon. See p. 263, with n. 249, above; and [Dem.] 56.7 (qÆ ªæ . . . ! æ ÆØ ŒÆd ı æª d   y Ø ˚º  ı . . . ). 345 [Dem.] 49.26, 30 (cf. 35: the loan was not secured on the timber itself, as it would have been if the contract had been between the banker and a regular  æ ).



to his house).346 It is not necessary to judge who is telling the truth in this case before we can appreciate its two crucial features. First, the case rests on the existence of a series of private and oral contracts for very large loans (of which the Philondas loan is only one) by a wealthy banker to an Athenian aristocrat. Oral contracts are problematic not only because they invite fraud,347 but also because (as Apollodorus laboriously demonstrates) circumstantially proving them is usually extremely diYcult. In Athens, they could not contrast more starkly with the meticulously written, witnessed, and deposited contracts (ıªªæÆÆ ) that appear in our surviving bottomry-loan speeches, which (as we will see) all involve metic or foreign borrowers.348 Unlike these people, a wealthy citizen like Timotheus never seems to have lacked the possibility to borrow oV the cuV, and with the absolute minimum of paperwork and fuss. From Pasion alone, he allegedly borrows a total of 4,488 dr., 2 obols (not including fancy bedding and cloaks for his guests Jason of Pherae and Alcetas of Epirus), leaving no written or witnessed record beyond some dated annotations in Pasion’s books!349 Apollodorus 346 [Dem.] 49.34–6, 39. 347 For this reason, modern courts refuse to enforce those involving above a certain amount of money; e.g. the US Uniform Commercial Code § 26 (based on England’s Statute of Frauds Act of 1677) states that ‘‘a loan agreement in which the amount involved in the loan agreement exceeds $50,000 in value is not enforceable unless the agreement is in writing and signed by the party to be bound or by that party’s authorized representative’’. The placing of the ceiling at $50,000 suggests that today, as in fourth-century Athens, very large loans can still be obtained orally, given the right circumstances and extra-legal ties between the contracting parties. Trollope’s novels are full of nineteenth-century aristocrats contracting this type of debt. See Thompson (1982), 78, for further comparison with eighteenth-century England. 348 See especially the contract (and depositions following) in [Dem.] 35.10–14 (most scholars accept the contract as genuine: see Isager and Hansen (1975), 175–6; more references in Cohen (1992), 42 n.4). See also [Dem.] 34.28–32. Isager and Hansen (1975), 78–9: ‘‘Maritime loans are a very complex and detailed matter; in consequence, the contract is always in written form, often in two copies so that the lender himself retains one copy while the second is held by a third party, usually a banker’’ (for this role of the banker, see [Dem.] 34.6; 56.15). Isager and Hansen’s further statement that ‘‘Maritime loans are, then, precedent-setting with respect to contracts, as other agreements were often entered into only verbally in the presence of witnesses’’, obscures the fact that these ‘‘other agreements’’ could, in eVect, also be loans for maritime trade (as in the case of Philondas). Maritime loans must therefore be distinguished from bottomry loans, on which see below. 349 [Dem.] 49.6–8 (1,351 dr., 2 obols: Wrst loan from Pasion), 14 (1,000 dr.: loan from Philip the ÆŒº æ , via his treasurer Antiphanes of Lamptrae), 17 (1,000 dr.:

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nevertheless treats this situation as something quite commonplace to an Athenian jury, and at the end of his speech remarks: Indeed it is because of men like these that banks come to ruin—men who borrow whenever they are in need, thinking they should be trusted because of their reputation (Æ), but who, once they have the means, do not repay but steal instead.350

Second, this case, like Demosthenes’ Against Meidias, suggests the complexity and variety of the involvement of wealthy and powerful Athenians in trade. They could eVectively act as traders themselves while on occasional service as trierarchs, ambassadors, etc., or, alternatively, they could use their agents to go overseas on their behalf and freight goods back to Athens. Timotheus could plausibly argue before an Athenian jury that Philondas shipped timber for the purpose of trade (K æ Æ  ŒÆ) precisely because the dividing line between the gift/privilege-freights of Athenian politicians, conveyed by their agents, and the merchandise-freights of ‘‘real’’ traders, working for individual proWt, was diYcult for the Athenian jurors to see: both types of trade could just as normally be in the hands of metics and foreigners. The main diVerence, as we have seen, lay in the type of contract under which each trade operated. As Pasion’s loan to Philondas shows, not every maritime loan for the sake of trade had to be a bottomry loan. The loans of agent traders were reXected in little or no documentation; wealthy Athenians could Wnance these voyages second loan from Pasion, to pay back Philip), 22 and 32 (100 dr., plus bedding, cloaks and two silver غÆØ worth 287 dr.: third loan from Pasion), 29 (1,750 dr.: fourth loan from Pasion, paid to Philondas). Pasion’s books: [Dem.] 49.5, 42. It is doubtful that the largest borrowed sum ([Dem.] 49.12), consisting of a total of 42,000 dr. (¼ 7 talents!) in sixty separate loans of 700 dr. from each of his trierarchs (and for which he mortgaged ‘‘all of his property’’), was similarly unwitnessed and verbal in nature. 350 [Dem.] 49.68. The great bankers of Athens and their descendants could also depend on their wealth and reputation to borrow on faith, and not just at home but throughout the Aegean. As Apollodorus says in Against Polycles, [Dem.] 50.56 (date: 359): ‘‘I borrowed money from  Ø of my father in Tenedos, Cleanax and Eperatus, and paid the sailors their provisions; for since I was the son of Pasion and he was tied in  Æ with many, and was trusted throughout the Greek world (K fiB + ¯ººØ), I was not at a loss for borrowing money whenever I had need’’. The ıªªæÆÆ mentioned later, in [Dem.] 50.61, are clearly those between Apollodorus and his Athenian creditors, to whom he had mortgaged his land (as Timotheus had also done: see n. 349 above).



either with the help of oral bank-loans guaranteed by little more than reputation (Æ), or with their own capital. For non-agent traders, on the other hand, there existed every opportunity for litigation (and thus for survival in our sources): written contracts, the mutual suspicion always natural to business between strangers or foreigners, the huge proWts and losses at stake in the game of bottomry loans, and the enormous additional opportunity costs that could be incurred if contractual disputes were not expedited in Athenian courts (as opposed to settled through diVerent, undoubtedly slower, forms of negotiation).351 Although crucial for appreciating the true extent of Athenian aristocratic participation in trade, the existence of traders working as agents (and using non-bottomry maritime loans) did not prevent the Athenian elite from engaging in the full spectrum of trade, including the lucrative bottomry business. It is important to recall that Theophrastus’ Impostor brags not only of his royal ‘‘export’’ privileges, but also of his massive bottomry investments.352 Plutarch shows how closely related, but essentially diVerent, these trading opportunities were for the Athenian elite. According to him, Demosthenes received blame in the sources for making Wnancial proWt from his eloquence (æ Æ ÆŁÆØ Ie F ºª ı). He apparently sold his services as a speech-writer on opposite sides of the same case, was accused of receiving money from the Persian king, and was convicted of corruption in the Harpalus scandal. And Plutarch adds: If we should say that those who write these things (and they are not few) are lying, it would still be impossible to deny, at least, that Demosthenes could not endure to look indiVerently on gifts which kings oVered as marks of honour and favour, and that such endurance is not the mark of a man who lends money on bottomry.353 351 Isager and Hansen (1975), 73, do not make my argument for agency, but state: ‘‘That we should hear so little about emporoi and naukleroi who Wnance their own trade is undoubtedly the result of the fact that our sources are forensic speeches. Trading using one’s own ship at one’s own expense does not provide the occasion for court disputes to anything like the same extent as does trade Wnanced by the kind of loan in which the lender must sustain the loss in case the ship is wrecked.’’ See also M.V. Hansen (1984), 89. 352 Theophr. Char. 23.1–4. See above, pp. 224–5. 353 Plut. Comp. Dem. et Cic. 3.5–6; on the loans of Demosthenes and his family, see n. 70 above.

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We must now therefore try to assess the evidentiary nature of our sources for Athenian bottomry loans in the context of Athenian politics.

III. ‘‘OUTSIDE’’ ATHENIAN POLITICS? THE EVIDENCE FROM COMMERCIAL SUITS (DIKAI EMPORIKAI) The Demosthenic corpus contains Wve speeches from commercial suits ( ŒÆØ K æØŒÆ ),354 the only surviving examples of a type of suit which was introduced in Athens sometime between the years 355 and 347,355 and which considerably facilitated the use of the bottomry loan ( Æı ØŒ æÆ Æ or Æı ØŒe Œ ), itself a much older Wfthcentury practice.356 The commercial suits opened the courts of the Thesmothetae357 to any cause of action358 involving a merchant ( æ ) or shipowner ( ÆŒº æ ) as plaintiV or defendant359 and a written contract concerning trade to or from Athens,360 to any

354 [Dem.] 32, 33, 34, 35, 56. All these speeches are either certainly not by Demosthenes or their authenticity is in doubt (see McCabe (1981), 169–74). 355 Isager and Hansen (1975), 84; see MacDowell (1978), 231. 356 The earliest attestation is now in fr. 192 K-A from Eupolis’ Marikas, produced in 421 (schol. Ar. Nub. 552). Even in its fragmentary context, ‘‘it is noteworthy that Eupolis, like Lysias [32.6–7: referring to bottomry loans made before 409] expected his audience to understand what seems to have been no more than a passing reference to a maritime [sic] loan—in other words, the maritime loan was already a familiar institution in 421’’: Harvey (1976), 233. Ste Croix (1974), 44, guesses that the origin of Athenian bottomry lies in the second quarter of the Wfth century, due to what he estimates was the enormous growth of the Athenian grain trade in this period. 357 [Dem.] 33.1; [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 59.5 with Rhodes (1993), 665. 358 For example, [Dem.] 56 is a  Œ º : see Isager and Hansen (1975), 84–5 n. 5; 209–10 n. 83. The requirement for a written agreement eVectively ensured, however, that all of these cases concerned bottomry loans, or similar contracts (see Isager and Hansen (1975), 150–2, on the implied Sicilian contract in [Dem.] 33.13). 359 See ibid. 86–7 n. 15. 360 [Dem.] 32.1; 33.1; 34.42; see Isager and Hansen (1975), 87, 151–2; Cohen (1973), 99–114; Rhodes (1993), 664–5; cf. Gernet (1955), 186–7 (arguing unconvincingly against the requirement of both conditions); Gauthier (1972), 187–200; Paoli (1930), 101–5; Todd (1993), 336.



person regardless of his citizenship status.361 This type of case also provided for expedited treatment from about late August to late April (Boedromion to Munychion),362 and (to ensure compliance with the summons and the judgment) allowed for the seizure of any defendant who did not present an Athenian citizen guarantor.363 The defendant was allowed, however, to bring a demurrer (ÆæƪæÆ) against his opponent’s case, and to attempt to get it dismissed: four out of our Wve surviving speeches in fact belong to one or the other side of demurrers.364 From the perspective of legal history, the way in which the commercial suits opened the Athenian courts to non-citizens has rightly been seen, following the classic formulation of Sir Henry Maine,365 as a fundamental move ‘‘from status to contract’’ in Athenian law.366 In economic terms this is equivalent to a move towards the supposed ‘‘disembedded’’ economy of capitalist societies, as Karl Polanyi conceived them—and as many others still do, though using diVerent 361 See e.g. Dem. 21.175–6: The Athenian Evandros of Thespiae seized Menippus, ‘‘some man from Caria’’ (˚æ Ø ¼ Łæø ) seeking payment of the verdict of two talents Evandros had won in a  Œ K æØŒ. See also Isager and Hansen (1975), 85. 362 [Dem.] 33.23. The Julian correspondences are rough: see Bickerman (1980), 20, 37. There have been unconvincing attempts to transpose the order of these months, unanimously transmitted in the manuscripts, to Wt these cases in the sailing months (Paoli (1933), 177–86, followed by Gauthier (1974), Hansen (1983); against Cohen (1973), 42–59; MacDowell (1978), 232; Rhodes (1993), 583; Carey and Reid (1985), 233 V.). From Lysias 17.5 (date c.397), it is clear that Æı  ŒÆØ only heard cases involving  æ Ø in the winter months, and this practice would have probably survived in the  ŒÆØ K æØŒÆ . This and other passages (Ar. Eccl. 1027; Plut. 904; frag. 904 Kock) suggest that  æ Ø in Athens could avoid all suits during the summer sailing season (Ehrenberg (1962), 118; see Cohen (1973), 161, 176–83; MacDowell (1978), 230), and thus  ŒÆØ K æØŒÆ would have accelerated suits against  æ Ø in the only time they could be brought (from [Dem.] 33.26 it is clear that they were not heard during the rest of the year (Carey and Reid (1985), 234)). The term  Ø with which these suits are described has also elicited controversy (see references in Rhodes (1993), 583–4), but it is most likely they were ‘‘on a monthly basis’’ (i.e. in monthly cycles) (Cohen (1973), 23–6). 363 See [Dem.] 32.29; 33.1; Isager and Hansen (1975), 85–6. Surety had been the purpose of requiring metics to have a citizen æ    (cf. Arist. Pol. 1275a9–14 and references in Gauthier (1972), 126–7; see also ibid. 132–6). 364 [Dem.] 32, 33, 34, 35. 365 Maine [1861] (1959), 139–41. 366 See Paoli (1930), 111–17; Gernet (1955), 173–200; cf. Todd (1993), 322–40, who sees them as ‘‘innovation without evolution’’; and Cohen (1973), who thinks they were not unusual or unique to Athens.

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words.367 Nevertheless, we must note that in this respect the commercial suits did not grant Athenian metics, favoured metics (N ºE), and proxenoi anything new. For at least a century, these types of privileged foreigners had had full access to the Athenian courts under the jurisdiction of the Polemarch, and could obtain relatively quick resolution of their disputes with each other and with Athenian citizens.368 Another important group of foreigners, coming from cities that had concluded judicial agreements with Athens, had similar free access to the courts under the jurisdiction of the six Thesmothetae.369 It even appears that members of all of these groups could appear as plaintiVs in public suits (ªæÆÆ ), and thus eVectively prosecute on behalf of the city.370 367 See Meikle (1995), 174–91. 368 See Cohen (1973), 8–62, 126–7; Gernet (1955), 173–200; Paoli (1930), 97–117; Todd (1993), 334–7. As  Ø (monthly),  ŒÆØ K æØŒÆ had the crucial advantage of speed (cf. Todd (1993), 334–5), but that would long have been the characteristic of all cases coming before the Polemarch, to whom all three groups were probably assigned at least by the 460s (see [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 58.2 with Ste Croix (1961), 101; cf. Harrison (1968–71), vol. 1, 192 n.1), and whose jurisdiction was treated as a privilege (Ste Croix (1961), n. 369 below). Thus, to say that  ŒÆØ K æØŒÆ were particularly fast is probably true only in comparison with the other cases, speciWcally the  ŒÆØ Ie ı ºH also tried by the Thesmothetae. Like all cases involving non-citizens, the  ŒÆØ K æØŒÆ must have required a citizen æ    to stand as surety for the non-citizen at the I ŒæØØ (cf. Gauthier (1972), 132–6), but still allowed the non-citizen to act as his own advocate at trial. This casts doubt on Whitehead’s characterization (1977: 174) of Athenian metics (not to mention other foreigners) as ‘‘politically mute’’, which now seems to be the orthodoxy (see Isager and Hansen (1975), 67; Hansen (1999), 118). 369 The jurisdiction of these magistrates was nevertheless considered inferior to that of the Polemarch (Ste Croix (1961), 100 n. 5; 100–5); see Wade-Gery (1958), 186–9). These judicial agreements, the basis for the  ŒÆØ Ie ı ºH , were known as ı ºÆ in the Wfth century, ı º in the fourth (plural form used for singular in each case): Ste Croix (1961), 95 n. 2; see Harrison (1968–71), vol. 2, 16. 370 For this right generally, see Todd (1993), 196. The case which unmistakably illustrates it is [Dem.] 59, where Epaenetus of Andros, apparently a non-metic visitor in Athens, brings a ªæÆ for illegal imprisonment (I Œø ƒæŁB ÆØ) against Stephanos, an Athenian citizen (59.64–70) (see also 59.52). Despite this, and the statement in [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 43.5 that accusations of sycophancy could be brought yearly against up to three Athenians and three metics, Harrison (1968–71) vol. 1, 195 n.1, and Rhodes (1993), 527, among others, express a priori reservations in accepting a general right of metics to prosecute ªæÆÆ . The profound signiWcance of the right is easy to see; as Hansen (1999), 203–4, says: ‘‘A public prosecution took place when the injured party was the polis, either directly, as in the case of treason, or indirectly, because the person harmed needed the help of the polis to have the oVence brought



The group of foreigners most directly aVected by the introduction of commercial suits was therefore that which was not covered by any privileged status or inter-state treaties ( ºÆ), and whose presence in Athens was essentially transitory.371 Previously they had been invisible to our sources, since they could not appear before juries, and instead were under the jurisdiction of special magistrates who passed judgment themselves.372 Although not all the parties in our surviving speeches belong to this formerly unregarded group of foreigners, it is important to bear in mind, with respect to bottomry loans, that the legal protection aVorded by commercial suits was always most attractive in situations where few or no pre-existing ties bound the parties to each other or to Athens prior to contracting, and where there was a substantial fear that, absent seizure, the defendant might succeed in Xeeing the city with all of his property if faced with (or having lost) a suit.373 In short, the corpus of commercial suits is by its procedural nature not the likeliest source to yield evidence of an Athenian merchant elite (or the basis to deny its existence). Brief statements of the subject matter of each case should suYce to give an idea of the types of situations that commercial suits regularly involved: [Dem.] 32: Against Zenothemis:374 Zenothemis, a Massaliot merchant and possible bottomry lender,375 sues Demon, an Athenian bottomry lender and relative of Demosthenes,376 for wrongful ejectment from a cargo of Sicilian grain. Demon enters this demurrer, charging that the to justice’’. A non-citizen’s right to vindicate the polis in this sense is the closest formal equivalent to his ability to engage in Athenian ‘‘political’’ activity through the courts. 371 Even slaves may have been able to appear before the Thesmothetae in  ŒÆØ K æØŒÆ : see e.g. Lampis (the NŒ  of Dion) in [Dem.] 34.5, 10; cf. Gernet (1955), 162–3; Harrison (1968–71), vol. 1, 167–8; Paoli (1930), 105–9; Todd (1993), 192–4. 372 See Gauthier (1972), 149–55. 373 Even so e.g. the losing defendant Menippus of Caria could abscond from Athens without paying, returning there only for the Mysteries, when the plaintiV Evandros Wnally arrested him (Dem. 21.175–6). See n. 361, above. 374 Date: 354–c.340 (Isager and Hansen (1975), 149); c.338 (Blass (1893), 492). 375 [Dem.] 32.2, 12, 14. 376 [Dem.] 32.31–2; although Demon seems to be a minor public Wgure at the time of this speech, compare his role in the glorious recall of Demosthenes from exile after the death of Alexander III in 323 (Plut. Dem. 27.6 V.).

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cargo was his own, as security for a bottomry loan to the merchant Protus (a third party who has Xed Athens),377 and that he has no contractual relationship with Zenothemis. As circumstantial evidence, Demon alleges that Zenothemis together with the Massaliot shipowner Hegestratus, had defrauded Syracusan bottomry lenders, and had conspired to sink Hegestratus’ ship (including its passengers) in the middle of the Ionian Sea.378 [Dem.] 33: Against Apaturius:379 Apaturius, a Byzantine shipowner,380 sues an unnamed Athenian,381 who is a bottomry lender,382 for payment of an arbitrated sum of 20 minae (on a written contract)383 owed him by Parmenon, an exiled Byzantine merchant,384 for whom the Athenian is allegedly a guarantor. The Athenian enters this demurrer, charging that he is not a guarantor, and alleging Apaturius’ earlier attempted escape from Athens with his mortgaged ship and slave crew, in order to avoid a (non-bottomry) loan of 40 minae owed to the Athenian and to Parmenon.385

377 [Dem.] 32.14–15, 18, 25. Note that either Protus or Zenothemis, or both, must have metic status to be able to appear before the Polemarch in 32.29, despite Whitehead (1977), 48 and n. 94: see Harrison (1968–71), vol. 1, 193–4, 196 n. 1; vol. 2, 10. 378 [Dem.] 32.4–7. 379 Date: on or after 341 (Isager and Hansen (1975), 154). 380 [Dem.] 33.5. 381 This status is certain from his capacity to act (as alleged uncontestedly by Apaturius) as surety (Kªªı ) for Parmenion. 382 [Dem.] 33.4. The Athenian says that he had been involved in overseas trade for a long time before taking up bottomry lending seven years previously. In 33.5, he claims an especially close connection to merchants from Byzantium, from having spent much time there. 383 This would be a contract to sail to Sicily, implied in [Dem.] 33.13; see Isager and Hansen (1975), 150–2. 384 [Dem.] 33.6, 11–13, 20. 385 [Dem.] 33.6–12. The non-bottomry loan is to repay a bottomry loan to other creditors in Athens (33.6). Like the non-bottomry loan Pasion makes to Philondas, this one is made by Heracleides (a banker friend (æ ) of the Athenian guarantor, 33.7) to Apaturius, but seems to have been settled by written contract (33.12). To protect himself from Apaturius, the Athenian lender not only transfers the mortgaged property to himself, but also executes on it a bill of sale with option to repurchase; hence, the property technically belongs to him at the time of Apaturius’ alleged escape (for this and the slave crew, see Isager and Hansen (1975), 153 and n. 25; 154–6).



[Dem.] 34: Against Phormio:386 Chrysippus and his partner, wealthy Athenian metic wheat-dealers (ıæ HºÆØ),387 merchants,388 and bottomry lenders,389 sue Phormio, an Athenian metic merchant,390 for recovery of a loan of 20 minae on a round-trip voyage to Bosporus. Phormio has entered a demurrer, alleging that the sum (paid in Cyzicene staters in Bosporus to Lampis, a slave merchant, shipowner, and bottomry lender)391 has been lost at sea, and that under the term of the bottomry contract Chrysippus and his partner bear the loss. Chrysippus responds with circumstantial evidence showing that the story of the loss is an invention and conspiracy by Phormio and Lampis. [Dem.] 35: Against Lacritus:392 Androcles of Sphettos and his ritual friend ( ) Nausicrates of Carystus, bottomry lenders,393 sue Lacritus of Phaselis, an Athenian metic and a pupil of Isocrates,394 for recovery of a loan of 30 minae due on a round-trip voyage to Pontus. Lacritus has entered a demurrer, alleging that the secured 386 Date: 327/6, from Boedromion to Munychion (cf. Isager and Hansen (1975), 169); mid 320s (Ste Croix (1974), 49). 387 [Dem.] 34.39 (they sell wheat); the accounts of their benefactions to Athens during three diVerent grain shortages are impressive: see p. 294 below. Their status as metics is deduced principally from 34.40. 388 [Dem.] 34.38; it is uncertain whether the phrase indicates sailing with the cargo or merely having it imported, leading to controversy as to whether to characterize this as K æ Æ (cf. Erxleben (1974), 476; Isager and Hansen (1975), 72–4). The vagueness most likely reXects a less specialized reality than these scholars assume; in other words, the term K æ Æ can encompass both activities on diVerent occasions. 389 [Dem.] 34.1, 50–2. However, 34.1 (‘‘we entered into contracts with many people’’) may indicate their engagement in both lending and borrowing. 390 See Isager and Hansen (1975), 157, for his metic status. 391 [Dem.] 34.5, 10 (referring to Lampis as a slave); 34.36–7 (referring to him as an  æ ); 34.6, 9, 32, 33 (referring to him as ÆŒº æ ); 34.6 (referring to him as a bottomry lender). How Lampis can be a slave while doing all of these things has puzzled scholars (see Harrison (1968–71), vol. 1, 167–8 nn. 5, 6). A plausible theory is that he is a øæd NŒH , who lives with his family at Athens (34.37), and whose master Dion (whose absence throughout the case is conspicuous) lives overseas, perhaps in Bosporus (see E. L. Kazakevicˇ (1960, 1961)). Lampis would thus be a kind of overseas agent with the status of a metic in Athens (see Erxleben (1974), 477, 479, 513 n. 22). 392 Date: 354–c.340 (Isager and Hansen (1975), 169–70); 340s (Ste Croix (1974), 45); c.351 (Blass (1893), 564). 393 Androcles also calls himself an  æ  [Dem.] 35.49. See Erxleben (1974), 474, 510 nn. 100–4. 394 [Dem.] 35.15, 40–3. Plut. Dem. 28.3. Cf. Isoc. 15.30, 224.

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merchandise has been lost at sea, and that it was his dead brother Artemo,395 and not himself, who had a contractual relationship with the plaintiVs. Androcles and Nausicrates respond with circumstantial evidence showing that the story of the loss is a lie, that the borrowers broke the terms of the contract no less than four times,396 and that Lacritus is liable for the debt as the heir to his brother Artemo’s estate.397 [Dem.] 56: Against Dionysodorus:398 Darius and Pamphilos, Athenian metic bottomry lenders,399 sue the foreigner400 Dionysodorus, a merchant, shipowner, and alleged bottomry lender,401 for recovery of a loan of 3,000 dr. due on a round-trip voyage to Egypt. Dionysodorus and his partner Parmeniscus are allegedly part of the international proWteering racket of Cleomenes of Naucratis, satrap of Egypt under Alexander III.402 These speeches need not be scrutinized for facts at any greater length for our purpose of deWning the rhetorical patterns they employ. One of the 395 Artemo and Apollodorus, a third Phaselite brother included in the ıªªæÆ, seem to be  Ø: Isager and Hansen (1975), 170. 396 Ibid. 170–1. 397 Ibid. 172–5. 398 Date: winter or spring of 323/2; the loan was taken in July/August 324 (cf. Isager and Hansen (1975), 208–9). 399 See ibid. 212–13, who speculate that Pamphilius is the Egyptian metic connected to Meidias in Dem. 21.163, p. 281 above. 400 The law violated by the defendants (given at [Dem.] 56.10), ordering ÆŒº æ Ø and KØ ÆØ to sail to their agreed destination, was not the same as that ordering Athenian residents to ensure grain was conveyed to Athens (given at [Dem.] 34.37; 35.50–1; Lycurg. 1.27); see Isager and Hansen (1975), 213; Gauthier (1972), 156 n. 163 (cf. Bogaert (1968), 84 and Clerc (1893), 399, who think Dionysodorus a metic). The laws operated together to place the same obligation on all lenders and borrowers in Athens, regardless of their citizenship status (see Erxleben (1974), 496). 401 [Dem.] 56.17. 402 See Badian (1966), 58–9 and n. 93 for Cleomenes’ appointment to the satrapy. Cleomenes’ enormously successful IØŒÆ Æ were widely acknowledged, even in a letter from Alexander III (Arr. Anab. 7.23.6–8, believed to be genuine, see Hamilton (1953), 157; Bosworth (1988), 234–5) granting him carte blanche as long as he carried out orders to heroize Hephaestion monumentally in Alexandria; interestingly, these orders included the entering of Hephaestion’s name in all commercial ıªªæÆÆ . For Cleomenes generally, see [Arist.] Oec. 1352a17–1352b26 with Groningen’s commentary, 183–93; his execution (presumably in the fall or winter of 323/2) is given in Paus. 1.6.3. [Dem.] 56.7 shows that the speech belongs after his death.



most important of these patterns, the theme of the powerful cabal, is one that we have already encountered numerous times, and points to the same historical reality. We have seen that this theme, as applied to the grain-dealers in Lysias’ Against the Grain-Dealers, is also applied to characterize all men with suYcient power to harm Athens.403 We have argued that the theme’s eVectiveness depends on a popular perception that at least some grain-dealers were powerful, and discovered, in the case of some elite Athenian politicians who were wheat-dealers (and thus eVectively grain-dealers), that this perception agrees with the facts. The underlying historical reality, we concluded, was one where graindealers belonged to the full spectrum of Athenian social and economic classes, with the alarming rhetoric most accurately applied against those who were powerful being also applied against those who were not. Much the same principle holds true for the merchants and shipowners who appear in the commercial suits. The rhetoric used by Lysias and Andocides to conjure up powerful networks of these men, which jurors needed either to placate or to fear,404 is here applied against defendants who are visible, usually foreign, and much less formidable than the Athenian oligarchic cabals. There is, however, no diVerence in the aim. Each of these speeches tries to present a diVerent version of a conspiracy theory to the jurors, and thus Wre their imagination with a scenario in which they, as demos, must intervene to reassert control over the city’s trade and its grain supply. In Against Zenothemis, the jurors hear of the defendant’s conspiratorial record stretching back to Syracuse (where he arranges with Hegestratus to defraud local bottomry lenders),405 and then to the middle of the Ionian Sea (where both men agree by night to break a hole through the ship’s hull and drown all their fellow passengers).406 When this plan fails, and only Hegestratus drowns, Zenothemis schemes with the other Massaliots on board to prevent the ship from reaching Athens, the legitimate port of destination.407 Foiled 403 See above, p. 222. 404 See e.g. Lys. 22.21–2; Andoc. 2.20–1: see discussion on these above, pp. 244, 248. 405 [Dem.] 32.4. 406 [Dem.] 32.5–7. It is in this context, and not necessarily with any technical signiWcance, that Zenothemis is called › Œ Ø ø e . . . ŒÆd ı æª of Hegestratus (in 32.7, 16). 407 [Dem.] 32.8–9.

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again, Zenothemis continues his intrigues in Athens, Wnding allies in the plaintiV ’s corruptible agent (æı B) Aristophon (whom the jurors are asked to recognize as one of a ‘‘well-known company of conspiring villains in the Piraeus’’408), and equally corruptible borrower Protus (who Xees Athens despite being the prime witness for the plaintiV).409 Zenothemis even manages to corrupt his defrauded Syracusan creditors, who ‘‘are forced to make common cause with him for the sake of their own interests’’.410 The repeated use of the preWx syn- (ıŒı"ŁÆØ, ı æª, ı Ø  ÆØ, ı ØŁ ÆØ, ı ØŒE ) evokes all the other powerful cabals that threatened the demos in the popular imagination. We recall Demosthenes’ depiction of Timocrates and his associates colluding (ı Æ Ø) to pass their law in secret;411 or Andocides’ portrayal of Agyrrhius’ ‘‘wellknown’’ ( R !E Y  x Ø NØ ) gang of rich men colluding (ÆæÆıººªŁÆØ, ı Ø  ÆØ) ‘‘under the white poplar’’ to cheat the city of its taxes.412 Let us remember that we are not dealing with facts but rhetorical topoi. Zenothemis and his associates, like the rest of the conspirators we meet in the commercial suits, are endowed with the personae of powerful public enemies, and eVectively given important political roles despite their lack of Athenian citizenship. Conspiracy also features prominently in Against Apaturius 413 and Against Phormio.414 Again using the preWx syn-, the interesting peroration of Against Phormio urges the jurors to collaborate with the plaintiVs in reinforcing (ı Æ æŁ F ) the city’s laws against evil men, to Wght (as it were) syndicate with syndicate, ‘‘so that you may derive the greatest possible proWt from your market’’.415 The proWt meant is described shortly before: the cargoes of grain the plaintiVs 408 [Dem.] 32.10. 409 [Dem.] 32.24–30. Aristophon is said to have engineered Protus’ corruption. 410 [Dem.] 32.12. 411 Dem. 24.26–32. 412 Andoc. 1.133–6. 413 [Dem.] 33.16–18, 22 Apaturius connives with the arbitrator Aristocles and his friend Eryxias to conceal the articles of agreement allegedly naming his opponent as guarantor of Parmenon. 414 [Dem.] 34.16–20, 28, 34, 46: Phormio corrupts and persuades Lampis to desert the plaintiVs as their main witness. Phormio himself had been corrupted earlier by shadowy forces (33.12). 415 [Dem.] 34.52.



‘‘continually deliver’’ (Ø ª F  ØÆ  ºŒÆ ) to Athens,416 and the additional beneWts they oVer the city in times of scarcity: When grain rose in price before and reached sixteen drachmae, we imported (Nƪƪ ) more than ten thousand medimnoi of wheat and measured it out to you (Ø æÆ !E ) at the normal price of Wve drachmae per medimnos, and all of you who received measures in the Pompeium know these things.417

The year referred to here can be calculated from an inscription to be 330/29 (the archonship of Aristophon),418 the year of grain shortage (Æ Ø Æ) in which the merchant and shipowner Heracleides of (Cypriot) Salamis imported and sold 3,000 medimnoi of wheat at the same price as our plaintiVs.419 The additional contributions of large amounts of cash to a grain-purchase fund (Ø ø Æ) are likewise emphasized by the speech.420 Chrysippus and his partner contributed 6,000 dr. in 335, and the same amount again in 328/7;421 we also know that Heracleides contributed 3,000 dr. in 328/7,422 and Demosthenes 6,000 dr. probably around the same time.423 These, then, are the men whom the audience of Against Phormio would have understood as men ‘‘useful to the people’’ (æØ Ø fiH fiø), and with whom they felt asked to unite in aid: a company of wealthy men who served Athens (often simultaneously) as bottomry investors, merchants, shipowners, grain-dealers, and civic benefactors.424 Let us turn to the conspiracies in the two remaining commercial suits. The plaintiVs in Against Lacritus try, from the opening of their 416 [Dem.] 34.38. 417 [Dem.] 34.39. 418 Isager and Hansen (1975), 201–2; Garnsey (1988), 154–5. 419 IG II2 360, ll. 8–9. The inscription consists of Wve decrees, three of which date from 329/8 and the remaining two from 325/4. 420 See also the other contributions (epidoseis) to the sitonia tabulated by D. M. Lewis in Garnsey (1988), 156, table 8. 421 [Dem.] 34.38–9 with Isager and Hansen (1975), 201–2; Garnsey (1988), 154–5. 422 IG II2 360. 423 [Plut.] X orat. 851b. See Garnsey (1988), 155 n. 15; APF, 137. 424 In [Dem.] 34.51, Chrysippus argues that the system depends on the willingness of bottomry lenders to invest their money (cf. [Dem.] 56.48–50). It is certainly due to the nature of his legal dispute (i.e. recovering a bottomry loan) that Chrysippus makes this argument, but the passage is taken out of context by Hasebroek (1933), 7, to mean that ‘‘Greek foreign traders, in so far as trade was their only occupation, were as a rule wholly without capital of their own’’. (He thus overlooks the fact that the wealthy plaintiV lenders in our case are, equally, ‘‘Greek foreign traders’’!)

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speech, to excite a conspiratorial variant of xenophobia against the entire community of Phaselites trading in Athens. They are made into the type who always forgets to repay what it borrows: For they are the cleverest people (Ø  Æ Ø) at borrowing money on your market (KæØ ); but, as soon as they take it and have drawn up a maritime contract (ıªªæÆc Æı ØŒ), they forget both the contract and the laws, and that they must repay what they took (and if they repay they believe it is as if something of their own were lost). But instead of repaying they invent sophisms (  Æ Æ), and demurrers (ÆæƪæÆÆ ), and pretexts . . . 425

With the important exception that this argument involves a written contract, it sounds much like the complaint we have seen Apollodorus make against Timotheus and other wealthy Athenians (‘‘men who, once they have the means, do not repay but steal instead’’).426 But the mention of sophisms points to an even closer rhetorical connection.427 The defendant Lacritus is (like Timotheus) a pupil of Isocrates, and the plaintiV misses no opportunity to point this out. He calls Lacritus ‘‘a big gun, a student of Isocrates’’ (ªÆ æAªÆ,  Œæ ı ÆŁ ), one of a group of ‘‘superior-feeling men who think they are clever’’ and ‘‘covet and steal other people’s property, trusting in their rhetorical skill’’.428 Now an expert in this art, Lacritus has followed Isocrates in gathering numbers of fee-paying students and turning them into the sophistic rogues of the Athenian marketplace.429 His connection to Isocrates puts the Phaselite Lacritus among the other members of a group which, as Isocrates himself boasts elsewhere, was full of students ‘‘who sail here to be educated from Sicily and from Pontus and from all other places’’.430 We therefore see again

425 [Dem.] 35.1. 426 [Dem.] 49.68 (P æÆ  b c I ØHØ , Iºº I  æHØ ), see above, p. 283. 427 The word and its cognates echo in the speech from beginning to end (35.2, 22, 39, 40 (twice), 43, 56 (twice)). Likewise Ø  and its cognates (1, 28, 40, 41 (twice), 42, 45, 47, 49, 50 (twice)). 428 [Dem.] 35.15, 40. 429 [Dem.] 35.40–2. 430 Isoc. 15.224 (Antidosis; published 354/3). Isocrates himself reportedly came from a moderately wealthy Athenian family, H  æ ø  ºØ H (his father had been a Xute craftsman), and had studied rhetoric under the notorious Theramenes.



that this was not just an academy of paideutic rhetoric and conservative politics,431 but a kind of headquarters for some of the most active individuals in the fourth-century Athenian grain supply, from a politician and diplomat like Androtion, to merchants ranging in stature from Lacritus to the son of Sopaeus, to an Athenian general like Timotheus who safeguarded its routes and conquered its cleruchic breadbaskets (see Table 4).432 While we can easily deduce this from Isocrates’ own boasts, we can also sense that it left him vulnerable to the same accusations of oligarchy that we have seen deployed before: ‘‘[My opponent] declares that not only private individuals have become my students, but also orators, and generals, and kings, and tyrants, and that I have received, and continue to receive, huge sums of money from them’’.433 This is a variant of the attack Lacritus receives at the hands of his opponent. The defendant, the smug His pupils included another Phaselite besides Lacritus: Theodectes, famous both as a rhetorician (frequently cited by Aristotle, and author of a funeral panegyric for King Mausolus) and tragedian. Other famous students: Theopompus, Ephorus, Hyperides, Isaeus (see Dion. Hal. Isoc. 1; [Plut.] X orat. 836e.1–839d.10). The kings of Cypriot Salamis, Evagoras and Nicocles, are the friendly subjects of three of his pamphlets (2, 3, 9); other powerful addressees: Dionysius I of Syracuse, Philip II, Alexander III, the children of Jason of Pherae, Archidamus III of Sparta. 431 Isocrates’ version of ‘‘democracy’’ is well expressed in his Areopagiticus (pub. 355), especially 7.23, where he wants to do away with election by lot. 432 As Isocrates boasts (15.112), Timotheus had captured Sestos and the (appropriately named) Crithote (Barleytown), ‘‘and forced you to turn your attention to the Chersonese, which had been neglected before then’’. The argument (like the eponymous barley of Crithote) seems to appeal more to the Athenian populace than to Isocrates himself, who later (346) writes to Philip II (5.5–6): ‘‘. . . our city would have to learn, if possible, the lesson that she should avoid the kind of I ØŒ ÆØ which have been the ruin of their inhabitants four or Wve times over, and should seek those regions distant from people with a capacity to rule and near to people habituated to slavery . . . Someone would persuade our masses ( e ºBŁ ) that, if we got possession of Amphipolis, we should have to keep the same goodwill toward your policy, because of our colonists (ŒÆ ØŒ F ) there, as we did for the elder Amadocus because of our landholders (ªøæª F ) in the Chersonese’’. 433 Isoc. 15.30. We hear of 2,000 dr. paid by King Nicocles for the encomium on Evagoras ([Plut.] X orat. 838a). Isocrates’ rhetoric course, costing 1,000 dr. (837d, 838e), was said (in words attributed to him) to be sold only whole, like Wne Wsh: P

Æ "  , t ˜ Ł , c æƪÆ  Æ : uæ b f ŒÆº f NŁF ‹º ı øº F , o ø ŒIª  Ø, N  º Ø ÆŁ Ø , ›ºŒº æ I  ÆØ c  (837e). Such a remark also carried an anti-democratic connotation; see Davidson (1977), 226–7: ‘‘it is at the Wshmonger’s stall . . . that the gap between rich and poor gapes most widely’’.

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sophist of the marketplace, mirrors the cartoon of Androtion, the perpetual student of rhetoric,434 the member of the ‘‘customary gang of orators’’,435 ‘‘shameless and insolent, a thief and an overweening man, and good for anything besides political life in a democracy’’.436 Here again is a foreigner endowed with the persona of a powerful citizen. To engage Lacritus’ jurors even more, the plaintiVs subtly challenge them to be more clever (  ) than he is,437 and dare the penalties of Athenian law to be more terrible (Ø Æ ) than his crimes.438 From descriptions of conspiracy in the Piraeus and in the school of Isocrates, we now turn to the speech Against Dionysodorus. If themes of commercial collusion and oligarchic revolution within Athens have a long-standing connection, this speech shows us a new and altogether diVerent type of threat being presented to Athenian jurors, one that they as demos could not even aspire to defeat or to control. The defendant Dionysodorus and his partner (Œ Ø  ) Parmeniscus are members of an exceptionally dangerous syndicate. As the plaintiV declares: . . . all of these men (  y Ø) were—lest you be unaware, men of the jury!—agents and confederates (! æ ÆØ ŒÆd ı æª ) of Cleomenes,439 the former governor (¼æÆ) of Egypt, who from the time he received the government missed few opportunities to harm your polis, and indeed the rest of the Greeks as well, by selling grain and Wxing its price (ƺتŒÆ ºø ŒÆd ı Ø a a Øa F  ı), both he himself and these men as his associates (ŒÆd ÆP e ŒÆd y Ø  ÆP F). Some of them would ship the goods (æÆ Æ) from Egypt; others would sail in charge of the cargos (Kº

ÆE K æ ÆØ); while still others would remain here to dispose of what had been shipped. Next those who remained here would send letters to those abroad concerning the prevailing prices, so that if grain were expensive in your market, they might bring it here, and if it should turn inexpensive, they might sail to some other market. It was chieXy in this way, men of the jury, that the price of grain was rigged (ı  ØŁ a æd e E ) by means of such letters and conspiracies (KŒ H Ø  ø KØ ºH ŒÆd ı æªØH ).440

434 Dem. 22.4. 435 Dem. 22.37. 436 Dem. 22.47; see p. 274 above. 437 [Dem.] 35.43. 438 [Dem.] 35.50. 439 For ! æ ÆØ as agents, see Philondas, the ! æ  of Timotheus, pp. 281–3 above. 440 [Dem.] 56.7–8.



Linguistically, this passage works identically to the others we have seen using repetition of syn- compounds; the use of the phrase ‘‘all of these men’’ (  y Ø) extends the conspiracy beyond the two plaintiVs to involve a threatening Wfth column of unnamed individuals. Thematically, the passage sounds many of the same notes as Lysias 22 and the many speeches we have analyzed since. The prefacing ‘‘lest you be unaware!’’ introduces the plaintiV’s revelation of a powerful secret cabal; of the polis betrayed by men within its very walls ( ƒ KØ  F ); of foreigners as enemies; and of the control and manipulation of sensitive information on trade, prices, and sea routes. What is new about this case is that the conspiracy involves as its orchestrator a rogue overseas ruler, none other than the man conWrmed as satrap of Egypt by Alexander III.441 We have already met Cleomenes of Egypt, the palinkapelos, and before him King Darius the kapelos. We have seen that kapeleia is used to signal the massive ethical and political gulf between these men and those who were rhetorically portrayed as ‘‘useful to the people’’ (æØ Ø fiH fiø): for example, the wealthy merchants Chrysippus and Heracleides. It is interesting to note in this context that, despite his particular animosity to trade as a whole, even Plato adopts a positive deWnition for the term ‘‘merchant’’: . . . for how can any man be anything but a benefactor (Pæª ) if he renders even and symmetrical the distribution of any kind of goods which before was asymmetrical and uneven? And this is, we must say, the eVect produced by the power of money, and we must declare that the merchant (›  æ ) is ordained for this purpose.442

The term merchant, therefore, when taken beyond its technical meaning, can in fact signify the neutral or positive aspects of trade, the opposite of kapelos in the ethical sphere.443 It is in this ethical 441 See p. 231 above. 442 Leg. 918a8–b6 (Loeb trans.). 443 See similarly Ehrenberg (1962), 115, with n. 8 on the word ªÆº æ  in Eupolis fr. 135 K-A (Schol. Ven. Ar. Av. 822: ºª ÆØ ‹ Ø ªÆº æ  Ø K º r ÆØ, æÆ  IºÆ" , łıº ı : KŒÆºE ˚Æ , ‹ Ø  ººa !Ø   P K ºØ), another word that has acquired a misleading occupational meaning in LSJ (‘‘wholesale merchant’’). Ehrenberg rightly says: ‘‘the ‘big  æ ’ was a boastful fellow and his wealth a sham, though these words conWrm the fact that, in public opinion, emporia and wealth went hand in hand’’; he is identical to the .ºÆ" of Theophrastus, see above p. 224.

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light that the merchants of Lysias 22 are portrayed, or that the Bosporan son of Sopaeus sails to Athens with his three shiploads of grain ‘‘for the purpose of trade’’ (ŒÆ K æ Æ ). Perhaps we should no longer be surprised that there exists no prosecutorial masterpiece comparable to Against the Grain-Dealers in attacking the merchants ( æ Ø) of Athens. In its wider meaning, the merchant is not just someone engaged in business without the anti-social mentality of the kapelos—he is positively a benefactor (Pæª ), the saviour of Athens on a par with the heroic kings of Bosporus, or Pericles the settler of Euboea.444 And like Cyrus for the Persians, this kind of man would have been like a ‘‘father’’ to the Athenians, ‘‘because he was gentle, and procured them all manner of goods’’ (‹ Ø XØ   ŒÆd IªÆŁ Ø  Æ K Æ Æ ).

IV. CONCLUSION The period that allows us to study kapeleia in Athens in the literary record coincides with one of unparalleled trading activity in the history of the city. Thucydides puts into the mouth of Pericles a policy of using Athenian naval superiority to become a nation of islanders ( ØH ÆØ), invulnerable to attack by land, and self-suYcient by means of control of the sea.445 The statement comes in a speech on the eve of the war in 432, but reXects a strategy that had been implemented gradually for a very long time. The Peace of Callias with Persia, the Citizenship Decree of 451/0, and the Thirty Years’ Peace with Sparta in 446 have been interpreted as ‘‘an intensivist policy, limiting further expansion to where it was strategically feasible while increasing the actual proWts of empire by peace and organized exploitation’’.446 Especially after the defeat of Tolmides at Coronea in 446, the event that marked the end of Athenian

444 The term Pæª  appears in dozens of decrees granting Athenian æ  Æ throughout the classical period: see Henry (1983), 376. 445 Thuc. 1.143.5; see also [Xen.] Ath. Pol. 2.14–16. 446 Badian (1993), 17; see also Meiggs (1972), chs. 8–10, despite understanding (and dating) the Peace of Callias diVerently from Badian.



ambitions over the Greek mainland, the character of the Athenian ‘‘organized exploitation’’ was naval, and the city’s focus on its port of Piraeus grew accordingly. We have seen in Chapter 3 the evidence that the ‘‘organized exploitation’’ of the empire meant, in very great part, the imposition and protection of cleruchies using Athenian naval power. Indeed it was probably the distribution of those vast quantities of overseas land, even more than the distribution of the 30,000 or 40,000 medimnoi of grain given by the Egyptian Psammetichus in 445, or other Athenian privileges, that required imposing clear limits on Athenian citizenship in 451/0.447 Jacoby recognized more than Wfty years ago that the scrutiny of the citizen registers (ØÆł Ø) mentioned in connection with the grain distribution of 445 could not have been started (as most scholars assumed) as a result of that distribution: No one asked when, in relation to the distribution of corn, the ponderous apparatus of a diapsephismos was put in motion. If it was before the distribution, the corn would presumably have been spoilt before the end of the scrutinies in the demes; if it was after, it would throw a singular light on the mental state of the law-giver who must have known on how many occasions the question of citizenship was vital, for instance on the occasion of sending out cleruchies, not to mention e.g. the every day compiling of the list of jurors.448

Jacoby concluded that the connection of the ‘‘ponderous apparatus’’ with the distribution of the grain is the result of telescoping the events of 451/0 to 445/4 in our sources.449 He must, I think, be right. But I would add that the most likely occasion for the process to be set in motion would be the distribution of the new kleroi of Euboea as part of the Periclean conquest of the previous year. The distribution of kleroi, of grain, of wealth, were all closely connected in the mind of the Athenians with each other, and with the legal deWnition and exclusivity of their citizenship. We must be careful to remember that Pericles was not the inventor of this form of imperialism, which extended the Attic chora overseas 447 Schol. to Ar. Vesp. 718 (Philoch. FGrHist 328 F119); [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 26.4; Plut. Per. 37.3–4. 448 Jacoby (FGrHist IIIb Suppl. vol. 1), 468. 449 Jacoby (FGrHist IIIb Suppl. vol. 1), 470.

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and allowed Athens to survive on imported grain. We have already seen the illustrious footsteps he was following in. The outbreak of the Peloponnesian War and the evacuation of Attica in 432 may be viewed as the perfection of this process of engineered isolation, with Athenian reliance on imported food becoming in practice absolute. Viewed in this context, it was disingenuous for Aristophanes to blame his generation of demagogues for the disastrous consequences of shutting the Athenians behind the Long Walls: Are you matching yourself with Themistocles? He found our city’s cup halffull and Wlled it the rest of the way, and he baked the Piraeus as dessert for her lunch, and added new seafood dishes to her menu while taking away none of the old; whereas you’ve tried to turn the Athenians into tiny-townies by building partitions and chanting oracles. Themistocles’ match!450

During the course of this ‘‘islandiWcation’’ of the city and its disastrous aftermath, individual Athenians who were involved in trade accumulated wealth and political power suYcient to make meaningful their depiction as kapeloi, as revolutionaries and traitors, at the hands of Aristophanes and Lysias. Very wealthy Athenians like Charmides, Diodotus, cleruchs, merchants, and bottomry lenders will have played a crucial part in Athens’ islandiWcation.451 But even these men were nothing compared to the sharing politician, the Cimon,452 Pericles,453 Nicias,454 or Alcibiades,455 valued for his personal generosity as much as for his ability to guide the cleruchic and tributary organized exploitation of the Empire by the demos. The characters of the Sausage-seller and Paphlagon, who vie for primacy in the household of Demos by serving him food and proclaiming their benefactions (s ªaæ  ØH e B !), are just a cartoon of the alleged perversion of this established political type.456 450 Ar. Eq. 813–18 (Loeb trans.). 451 On Charmides, Diodotus, and others, see Chapter 3, pp. 89–93 above; on bottomry loans, see n. 356 above. 452 [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 27.3; Plut. Cim 9–10; Theopomp. FGrHist 115 F89; Cimon ‘‘made money to use it and used it to be honoured’’: Gorgias 82 B 20 DK; see Veyne (1976), 74–5. 453 [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 27.4; Plut. Per. 9.2, 11.4–5. 454 Pl. Grg. 472a; Plut. Nic. 3. 455 Thuc. 6.16.1–2; Plut. Alc. 10–11. 456 Ar. Eq. 741; see also Vesp. 707–12 on tribute.



In the fourth century, the tradition of the sharing politician continues with full vigour, albeit in more modest, post-imperial conditions. The new politician, according to Xenophon’s Socrates, ought to know how to ‘‘come to the rescue and relieve the city by giving expert advice about food’’ (part, as we have seen, of Aristotle’s to politikon and of the established topics in the principal assembly of each prytany). We think of Anytus (the same man who portrayed himself as a democrat by prosecuting Socrates457), who as one of the grain guardians of 388/7 encouraged the grain-dealers to sell cheap grain to the demos. And of course we think of Agyrrhius, who instituted pay for the Assembly, and in the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3 established a supply of grain ‘‘in the public domain’’ (K fiH Œ Ø fiH) from the pentakosiomedimnoi of Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros. And as Demosthenes himself tells us, Agyrrhius’ legacy was inXuential well after his death. Indeed the attribution of the Theoric fund to Agyrrhius would make him the author of the Athenian version of ‘‘bread and circuses’’.458 But rescuing and relieving the city also involved serving like Thrasybulus, who in 390/89 sailed to the Hellespont ‘‘resolved to do some good service for the city’’. Penetrating to Byzantium and Chalcedon, he did much to restore the trading links that Athens had forged with the Spartocid dynasty in the last years of the war.459 Nevertheless, it is likely that the Atheno-Bosporan grain trade did not reach its acme until the 370s, thanks both to Leucon’s conquests and the formation of the Second Athenian League in 377. Under the immediate post-war conditions described by Xenophon one would expect a diverse and Xuctuating supply, perhaps not very diVerent from the situation observed later, from the 340s onwards, in which the circle not only of traders but also of grain sources appears to widen in our evidence. The former include the transitory foreigners featured in the new commercial suits, and the latter Cyprus, Egypt, Cyrene, the Adriatic, and—especially after Timoleon’s arrival there in 344—Sicily.460

457 Figueira (1986), 150 n. 3. 458 For bread and circuses, see Veyne (1976), passim. 459 Xen. Hell. 4.8.26: K Ø ŒÆ ÆæAÆØ ¼ Ø fiB ºØ IªÆŁ ; the case is well set out by Burke (1990), 6. 460 See Appendix 5, sects. III–V; GHI II, 525.

Bread and Politics


For the earlier period of diversiWcation one may speculate that intermittent alliances with Thebes, especially during the Corinthian War (395–386), could have allowed some Boeotian grain to be imported to Athens;461 or that Athenian desire for grain imports lay behind the honours moved for both Dionysius of Syracuse,462 and Evagoras of Cyprus,463 as well as the alliance with Eretria,464 all belonging to the same year, 393.465 The apparent expansion and contraction of the number of Athenian grain sources is interesting, because it seems to reXect an understandable Athenian interest in single and dependable sources of grain during periods of prosperity. For much of the fourth century, the amount of grain coming from the Bosporan kingdom formed the backbone of the Athenian grain supply: the single quantity around which other, smaller quantities from other places were assembled.466 Our study of the rhetoric of the Athenian grain supply has taken us by multiple routes from the unnamed grain-dealers of Lysias 22 to ever more powerful men. It is now obvious that we can, and should, look beyond Athenian politicians. It is Wtting to end this chapter with a closer look at monarchy. The only overseas ruler besides Alexander III to appear in our surviving commercial suits is King Paerisades of Bosporus (Against Phormio, [Dem.] 34.8, 36). King Satyrus, his grandfather, appears in connection with two other lawsuits, both of which we have already analyzed.467 The rhetoric of these three private speeches adopts the conventional political persona of these kings (which we have seen in Demosthenes’ speech Against Leptines and Androtion’s inscription) as powerful individuals, never called kings (ÆغE). However, their Athenian citizenship is never mentioned either, and it always appears

461 But see Hansen (2006), 84–92. 462 IG II2 18 (¼ GHI II 10 with commentary): notice the use of the term ¼æø to refer to Dionysius and compare with p. 255 above. 463 IG II2 20 (¼ GHI II 11 with commentary). 464 Tod II 103. 465 See also the honours for Strato king of Sidon, c.378–76: GHI II 21. 466 Dem. 20.31: æe ı –Æ Æ e KŒ H ¼ººø K æ ø IØŒ  › KŒ

F — ı E  Nºø K . See Chapter 4, pp. 206–8. 467 Isoc. 17: see pp. 175, 178–80, 187–9 above; Lys. 16: see p. 267 above.



that their continued benefactions (Pæª ÆØ) towards the city do not depend on that technicality, but on the correct behaviour and gratitude of the demos.468 For their own part, the kings’ behaviour is unfailingly impeccable: in Against Phormio, Paerisades is mentioned as having proclaimed the tax-free export of grain to Athens, only to have his intentions contravened by the villainous Lampis.469 In short, although the jurors are made to feel awe for these kings, their allegiance to Athens or their Athenian citizenship is never rhetorically questioned.470 More importantly, we elsewhere see Athenian rhetoric trying to capitalize diplomatically on the legal and intellectual Wction that Athens’ honorary citizens around the Mediterranean were really Athenian. The so-called letter from Philip contained in the Demosthenic corpus (though probably conveying only the substance of the original document of 340) gives the perfectly credible Athenian argument that Philip should ‘‘leave Thrace to the rule of Teres and Cersobleptes, because they are Athenians (‰ Z Æ `Ł Æ ı)’’.471 ‘‘But’’, counters Philip: . . . I am not aware that these two had any share with you in the terms of the peace, or that their names were included in the inscription set up, or that they really are Athenian. On the contrary, I know that Teres fought with me against you, and that Cersobleptes was quite ready in private to take the oath of allegiance to my ambassadors, but was prevented by your generals, who denounced him as an enemy of the Athenians. And yet is it fair and right 468 See e.g. Isoc. 17.57; cf. Dem. 20.35. 469 [Dem.] 34.36. This trip to Acanthus by Lampis takes place in a year of severe grain shortage in Athens (described in 34.37: perhaps 328/7). On the unanimous interpretation of the participial phrase ŒæıªÆ ªaæ  Ø Æ ı —ÆØæØ ı, Paerisades would have made the proclamation of tax-free export of grain to Athens in that year, or shortly before (Garnsey (1988), 151; Burstein (1978), 431). If so, the passage is curious, since it implies that the same proclamation, which Paerisades had made at his accession in 346 (as shown by Androtion’s inscription), had been revoked for some time. This was the conclusion of Gajdukevicˇ and Burstein, the former suggesting war with the Scythians as the cause (1971: 98–9), the latter deteriorating relations with Athens, which Demosthenes supposedly repaired during the shortages of the early 320s (1978: 431–6). In either case, it is not at all surprising that the speech would suppress discord between the Athenians and Paerisades. 470 The only exceptions, signiWcantly, are political attacks against Demosthenes, attempting to discredit his democratic persona: see pp. 167, 220, 224 above. 471 [Phil.] Epist. 2.8 ¼ [Dem.] 12.8.

Bread and Politics


(Y j  ŒÆØ ) that when it suits your convenience (‹ Æ b !E ıæfi ) you should call him an enemy of your state, but when you want to vex me (Kb ıŒ Æ E ) the same man should be described as your fellow citizen . . . ? You gave your citizenship to Evagoras of Cyprus and Dionysius of Syracuse, to them and their descendants. Now, if you can persuade either of these peoples to restore their exiled tyrants, then you may apply to me for as much of Thrace as was ruled by Teres and Cersobleptes.472

One cannot blame Philip for not wanting to play along with Athenian double-think, but the argument he rejects is not as preposterous or unique as it initially sounds.473 For more than 150 years, the Athenians had in fact been conceptualizing as parts of Attica overseas territories controlled by their citizens. Miltiades, according to the story in Herodotus, captured Lemnos from the Pelasgians by fulWlling the ‘‘impossible’’ prophecy that a ship could sail there from Attica in a single day with the north wind blowing (KØ  Ø

F r ÆØ I Æ ª ŁÆØ): in fact he surprised them by sailing from Elaious in the Chersonese.474 The people of Myrina (like Philip) were of course unpersuaded by this tactic, but (unlike Philip) Athens could persuade them by force (ıæØ ÆE Ø b P ıªªØ øŒ Ø r ÆØ c -æ  `

ØŒc K ºØ æŒ ). We hear of the same conceptualization elsewhere, in Athenian disputes with Philip over Halonnesus, over Potidaea, and over Amphipolis, and with the people of Cardia over land in the Chersonesus: all of these places could be viewed as Athenian territory ( æÆ H `Ł Æ ø ).475 472 [Phil.] Epist. 2.8–10 ¼ [Dem.] 12.8–10. 473 Cf. Cawkwell (1963), 201: ‘‘It required considerable eVrontery to interpret honoriWc grants in this way . . . The plain truth is that the capture of Serrium, Doriscus, and the other [Thracian] forts was in no sense a breach of the Peace of Philocrates.’’ 474 Hdt. 6.139–40. I accept Busolt, against Stein and E. Meyer, for the conquest of Lemnos as the work of Miltiades II, son of Cimon (as stated by Hdt.), not Miltiades I, son of Cypselus, and for dating it to the years of the Ionian Revolt (see Hdt. 6.34–41). See references in How and Wells (1912), vol. 2, 122. 475 [Dem.] 7.2–4, 10, 28–9, 39–44. See especially 28: ‘‘Apparently those who inhabited Amphipolis, before Philip took it, were holding Athenian territory ( c `Ł Æ ø æÆ r ); but when he has taken it, it is no longer our territory, but his own, that he holds; and in the same way at Olynthus and Apollonia and Pallene he is in possession of his own property, not that of others’’. The inscription for the colony sent out by Athens to the Adriatic in 325/4 was phrased in an analogous way: its aim was ‘‘that domestic trade and grain supply (K æ Æ NŒ Æ ŒÆd Ø   Æ) may exist for the demos for all time’’: IG II2 1629 (¼ GHI II 100), ll. 218–23; see Gschnitzer (1958), 99.



The geography of Attica could also be transplanted overseas, so that Imbros had its Ilissos, Scyros its Kephissos.476 On Scyros in 476/5, Cimon had supposedly discovered the bones of none other than Theseus.477 If, by virtue of the citizenship of its kings, Thrace could become part of Attica, then this undoubtedly held true for the Bosporan kingdom also. It was in this elastic way, in addition to others we have seen, that the Athenian grain supply could always be conceived as being ‘‘in the public domain’’ (K fiH Œ Ø fiH), and that Pericles was able to call Athens ‘‘the most self-suYcient of poleis’’.478 This was the articulation of the imagined, unitary sovereignty of the Athenian demos, of the monopolization of power by radical democracy that Aristotle, followed by Maine and Headlam, identiWed and compared to monarchy (ŒÆd ªaæ › B  r ÆØ  º ÆØ  Ææ ).479 Such ideologies should come as no surprise, since we still live with similar ‘‘primitive’’, strange, and subtle concepts. The age of feudalism may be long past, but the law of England still ensures that every inch of the British realm is the property of the monarch.480 The ideological status of the demos as monarch explains the prevalence of conspiratorial topoi in all of the speeches we have

476 See Fredrich (1908), 82. 477 Plut. Cim. 8.6. 478 Thuc. 2.36.3. 479 Arist. Pol. 1313b38: the context (Pol. 1313a34–1314a29) is a series of similarities between democracy and tyranny (Cypselid Corinth, the Persian Empire, Pharaonic Egypt, Peisistratid Athens, Polycrates’ Samos, Dionysius I’s Syracuse), where both forms of government preserve themselves by the abolition of powerful individuals ( e f !æ Æ Œ º Ø ŒÆd f æ Æ Æ I ÆØæE ), and the prevention of private assemblies or associations of every kind, including educational (e.g. Isocrates’ school?). Another device of tyranny is to make its subjects poor (ŒÆd e  Æ  ØE f Iæ  ı ıæÆ

ØŒ ), as indeed we have seen poverty frequently claimed (or invented) in Athenian democratic rhetoric (see e.g. p. 271 above). Yet another similarity is the honoured status of the Xatterer (› ŒºÆ), a role that in a democracy is supplied by the demagogue ( Ø ªaæ ›  ƪøªe F  ı ŒºÆ). The best exposition of these features of Athenian democracy as characteristics of ‘‘inverted monarchy’’ (Maine’s phrase) is Headlam’s (1933: 28–32); cf. Hobbes [1651] (1991), ch. 19 (132). 480 Law of Property Act 1922 s. 128, Sch. 12, para. 1. See Gray and Gray (1999), 21: ‘‘All tenure has now been commuted to a uniform ‘socage tenure’ directly from the Crown’’. This is known as the ‘‘Radical title’’ of the Crown, 20: ‘‘the sovereign title of the king as paramount lord, achieved by conquest in 1066 and sustained by strong political control thereafter’’; it is ‘‘no proprietary title at all, but merely an expression of the Realpolitik which served historically to hold together the theory of tenure’’. See also Pollock and Maitland (1898), vol. 2, 232.

Bread and Politics


analyzed, and the particular (almost instinctive) hostility felt towards all activities involving syn-, including the ambiguous verb ‘‘to buy together’’ (ıæ ÆŁÆØ).481 Collusion amounts to a denial by other collectives of the perceived absolute power of the demos, the sovereign collective, to control its grain supply. Is it any surprise that our Athenian sources do not present the corporation, or even the longterm partnership, as clearly as the positivist historian might like?482 More importantly, how would Athenian jurors have perceived the satrap Cleomenes in Against Dionysodorus? Here was an overseas ruler who appeared to control an important part of the Athenian grain supply, and yet had organized his own syndicate to exploit instead of help the city.483 The series of grain crises that aZicted Athens in the fourth century, especially between 338 and 322 (when there seem to have been as many as Wve), has been thoroughly studied by Garnsey and others, and does not need rehearsal here.484 It is enough to re-state that a prolonged drought is an extremely unlikely cause.485 Surely it is not coincidence that the period between 338 and 322 precisely covers the two cardinal defeats of Athens by Macedon: by land at Chaeronea and by sea at Amorgos. The former followed on Philips’ capture of the Athenian grain Xeet at Hieron in 340, and the latter marked the deWnitive end of the precarious north-Aegean control exercised by Athens during the fourth century.486 After Amorgos, there could be no further Athenian control of the Pontic trade. Worse, the Athenian cleruchy at Samos was lost in 321—even the old-fashioned exploitation of territories closer to home was at an end.487 The last forty years or so of the fourth century were increasingly a period to look for other sources of grain, preferably outside Macedonian control. In spring of 324, none other than Miltiades of 481 See, pp. 216 V. and n. 275 above. 482 See Finley (1973), 144; cf. Thompson (1982), 84. 483 The plaintiVs had to admit what all the jurors knew, namely that Cleomenes no longer ruled, but understandably downplay any major cause for optimism: his agents, the defendants, were still well and at large. 484 Garnsey (1988), 144–9, 154–62. 485 Camp (1982), also criticized by Garnsey (1988), 145; cf. Sallares (1991), 392–5, who seems ambivalent. 486 For the various seizures and threats, see Appendix 5. sect. I. 487 Habicht (1997), 33–4, 57.



Lakiadai is seen sailing to the Adriatic ‘‘in order that the people may for all future time have their own commerce and transport in grain’’.488 These were the dying days of a system of leadership established by his forefathers at Chersonesus, Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros. The politicians of Athens and the Bosporan kings had spent most of the fourth century successfully using rhetoric to appear to surrender their control over the Athenian grain supply to the supreme authority of the Athenian demos. After the conquests and death of Alexander III, there were excellent reasons to doubt that the new rulers of the Mediterranean would bother with the rhetorical subtlety, or have the political inclination, to do the same. 488 IG II2 1629 (¼ GHI II 100 with commentary) ll. 217–20: ‹ø  i !æfi fiH fiø N e –Æ Æ æ K æ Æ NŒ Æ ŒÆd Ø   Æ.

Conclusion The previous chapters should have established that the Athenian grain supply under the democracy, from 507 to 322, was distinctive, and that it can therefore be studied discretely from the systems preceding and following it under both tyranny and oligarchy. We have seen, Wrst, that Athenian democracy was characterized by a particular kind of political discourse and behaviour in connection with its grain supply; second, that the exploitation of overseas grain sources through cleruchies went hand in hand with democratic ideology; and third, that Athenian supplies from the Bosporan kingdom depended on the personal relationships between the kingdom’s nobility and the democracy’s politicians. Of course, the Athenian grain supply did not simply ‘‘begin’’ in 507 or ‘‘end’’ in 322. Certainly there is a continuity extending outside this period, and of a fundamental sort. For example, the Athenian cleruchy installed at Chalcis in 506 follows patterns of territorial expansionism apparent as much as a century earlier in the vicinity of the Hellespont under Phrynon (followed by Peisistratids and Philaids), and especially at Salamis in the time of Solon. And we have seen that even the tax on the cleruchies at Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros in 374/3 is Solonian at least in spirit. Likewise after 322 we Wnd an essential continuity into the following centuries. The many examples of the great benefactor providing land and grain for the democracy (from Miltiades, to the Spartocid kings, to Heracleides of Salamis) foreshadow the competitive euergetism of the new rulers of the Hellenistic Mediterranean—even if the latter would no longer agree to behave on the pretence of an ideological subservience to, or even equality with, the Athenian demos.1 1 See Veyne (1976), 70–200; Oliver (2007).



Even more interesting, however, is to look at our subject in terms of decades instead of centuries. It is possible in this way to detect signiWcant discontinuities, even within the period under study. A clear example is in the population of Athens (doubtless the key variable in the calculations made in Chapter 1), which certainly Xuctuated sharply between 507 and 322. To appreciate this, let us divide this period into three stages: the Wrst (lasting almost eight decades) saw Athens become a democracy and then the capital of an empire, the second (almost three decades) saw it sustain large casualties through open warfare and three separate episodes of plague; Wnally, the third (eight decades) saw Athenian democracy manage not just to survive, but (rather surprisingly) to thrive, despite its never managing to recover its old imperial resources.2 We can be sure that, given enough data, historians would detect signiWcant demographic change over these three stages. And switching gears to look at even slower lapses of time, from decades to agricultural years, we would of course Wnd massive discontinuities. We recall that the level of interannual climatic variability of the Greek mainland is extremely high, with rainfall in particular normally varying by more than 60% from year to year.3 An obvious and important conclusion emerges from this balance of continuities and discontinuities: namely that the longer-term traditions and institutions of Athenian democracy were extraordinarily successful at managing quite considerable shorter-term Xuctuations in demographic and climatic conditions. Athens, in other words, was able for almost two centuries to impose a signiWcant social and economic stability on its physical environment. The single attested instance of famine at Athens during our period occurred in 405/4 and was induced by siege.4 Even more signiWcant (since famine was in any case extremely rare in the Greek and Roman worlds5) is 2 See Hansen (1988b); Hansen (1985) has demonstrated that the participatory and institutional requirements of the democracy depended closely on Athenian population: see Chapter 1, p. 28. 3 Osborne (1987), 33; see Chapter 1, p. 27. 4 Xen. Hell. 2.2; Lys. 13.11. 5 Jameson (1983), 6, bringing out the stark contrast with medieval and early modern Europe; Garnsey (1988), 17–39; see also (1999), 2, 34–42. (Garnsey deWnes famine (1988), 6, as: ‘‘a critical shortage of essential foodstuVs leading through hunger to starvation and a substantially increased mortality rate in a community or region’’).



the infrequency of food shortage at Athens.6 Our literary and epigraphic sources (as Garnsey has shown) are relatively good at documenting this problem when it occurs. They permit interpreting an absolute maximum of Wfteen cases between 507 and 322, while the more likely number is nine: all are in the fourth century, and not all should be assumed to have been severe.7 Even allowing for imperfection in the evidentiary record, nine episodes, none longer than a year, signify a remarkably low incidence of food shortage in a period of 185 years.8 This history is therefore one of enormous success for Athens. But a signiWcant credit clearly belongs to the period before democracy and to the response of earlier Athenians to the interrelated problems of overpopulation and food supply. Indeed, the really signiWcant moment in assessing this success must have been that when Athens Wrst outran its carrying capacity. To discover when this was, we may begin from two relatively safe estimates. The Wrst is the total population of 200,000 (citizens only: including males, females, and children) calculated for Athens in 432/1.9 The second is Attica’s calculated carrying capacity of approximately 84,000 people.10 Can we extrapolate backwards from a population of 200,000, in order to know approximately when a carrying capacity of 84,000 was reached? Scheidel’s recent study on Greek demography has argued convincingly that, from the tenth to the fourth centuries, ‘‘it is unlikely that the mean long-term growth rate deviated signiWcantly from a range of between 0.25 and 0.45% per year’’.11 Therefore, assuming for the sake of argument a closed citizen population with natural growth 6 Garnsey (1988), 6, deWnes food shortage as: ‘‘a short-term reduction in the amount of available foodstuVs, as indicated by rising prices, popular discontent, hunger, in the worst cases bordering on starvation’’. 7 The evidence is collected by Garnsey (1988), p. 133: ?424/3; p. 146: 387/6, 362/1, 361/0, ?340/39; p. 147: 376/5 or 374/3, 357; p. 157: 338/7, 335/4, 330/29, 328/7, 323/2, ?332/1, ?329/8, ?325/4. 8 Contrast Garnsey (1988), 14: ‘‘Athens from the fourth century BC on was extremely susceptible to food crisis’’. 9 See Chapter 1, p. 30. 10 See Chapter 1, p. 32. 11 Scheidel (2003) 123, 126–31, sensibly taking as a guide growth rates in other pre-modern populations (not recent developing countries), and (speciWcally for Greece) the evidence of Ottoman records and the results of the southern Argolid project, against the high growth rates maintained by Snodgrass, Sallares, and Tandy.



rates anywhere between 0.2 and 0.5%, a Wnal population of 200,000 in 432/1 retrojects to initial populations of between 120,000 to 160,000 in 531, and between 70,000 to 130,000 in 631. Admittedly these numbers can give only a very impressionistic picture (indeed we have chosen to err conservatively by excluding all non-citizens), but their importance is clear. Even choosing the highest end of the acceptable growth rate, or making the (unwarranted) assumption of a signiWcantly higher carrying capacity does not appreciably change the overall impression that the Athenian population at the turn of the seventh and sixth centuries was dangerously approaching (if it had not already reached) the limits of self-suYciency.12 In a classical Malthusian cycle, reaching this limit would of course spell the reduction of the excess population through either famine and death, or emigration. But it might equally well prompt (as Boserup and others have shown) a variety of political and economic responses such as redistribution, intensiWcation, and trade.13 Any of these would involve some range of human choice—even if such choices are rarely, if ever, easy for societies to discover and implement. In any case, demographic facts alone should lead us to postulate a serious crisis in the political and economic history of Athens in the late seventh and early sixth centuries. Was this in fact the case? Faulty as our evidence may be, we are thankfully not working in complete ignorance for this period, and it is clear that Athens was indeed suVering severe political disturbances around 630 and thereafter. Indeed many features of Solon’s reforms as archon in 594/3 Wt our demographic retrojection strikingly well.14 Most 12 Contrast Osborne (1996), 222: ‘‘Neither claims that the population of Attica was rising rapidly at this time, nor claims that the land was over-populated and its fertility exhausted can muster either archaeological or textual support’’; Garnsey (1988), 109–10: ‘‘Attica was [only by the late sixth century or early Wfth], in my view, approaching the danger zone, where a better and better harvest was required if the need to import grain on a regular basis was to be avoided’’. 13 Boserup (1965), 11: ‘‘population growth is here regarded as the independent variable which in its turn is a major factor determining agricultural developments’’; cf. 41–2: ‘‘. . . it of course does not follow that this technical change will occur whenever the demographic prerequisite is present’’—an antidote to some of the fanciful ideas debunked in Chapter 1; see also the excellent synopsis by Tandy (1997), 30–4. 14 For the sake of simplicity, I leave aside the well-known theories of Hammond and Hignett on the date of Solon’s reforms, which if accepted still do not take us too far from the early sixth century.



important was his abolition of the hektemorage, thanks to which ‘‘relations between propertied elite and the propertyless were transformed by turning tenants into small landowners and removing any obligation to a landlord’’.15 In addition, Solon discouraged immigration.16 But this was obviously not enough to ease pressure on the land of Attica in the long term, so that integral to his reforms was a thorough and detailed series of agricultural regulations, including laws regulating the building of terrace walls, embankments, and enclosure walls;17 access to public and private wells;18 others mandating a distance of at least 5 ft from a man’s tree to neighbouring land (or 9 ft in the case of a Wg or olive tree); distance at least equalling depth for pits and trenches; distance of at least 300 ft from new beehives to previously established neighbouring beehives;19 and another prohibiting the export of all agricultural products except olive oil.20 It is not by coincidence that Solon presents himself as the personiWcation of a boundary stone between neighbouring Welds.21 He was the original delineator and manager of the Attic countryside and of the intensivist agricultural economy that we have seen in operation at the localized level of the deme Euonymon in Chapter 2. Given the overall coherence of this project, it seems perverse to treat his laws as piecemeal enactments, or interpret their eVect as one of limited duration.22 Nor can we place much weight on the absence of coinage in this period, for it is now known that uncoined silver bullion was 15 Osborne (1996), 225. 16 Plut. Sol. 24.2: ÆæØ  I æ Æ ŒÆd › H    Ø ø  , ‹ Ø ª ŁÆØ  º ÆØ P  øØ ºc E ª ıØ IØıª fi Æ c ,Æı H j Æ  Ø `Ł Æ"  ØŒØ"  Ø Kd  fi ; on this see Manville (1990), 122; Whitehead (1977), 142: ‘‘Solon was philodemos . . . not philoxenos: his purpose was to strengthen the citizenbody by extremely selective immigration, and to subject those not selected to at least one severe economic sanction’’. 17 Gaius, in Dig. 10.1.13 (Ruschenbusch F60a) with the interpretation of Nixon and Price (2005), 668–9. 18 Plut. Sol. 23.6 (Ruschenbusch F63). 19 Plut. Sol. 23.6 (Ruschenbusch F60b). 20 Plut. Sol. 24.1 (Ruschenbusch F65). 21 Sol. fr. 37.9–10 West. 22 See e.g. Garnsey (1988), 75, arguing that Solon’s law forbidding the export of agricultural produce apart from olive oil was ‘‘an ad hoc measure issued in the context of a food crisis’’ (as opposed to a permanent response to the permanent crisis entailed in reaching carrying capacity); see also, 112; cf. Bravo (1983), 21–25; Hahn (1983), 34.



precisely weighed, even down to very small quantities, and could thereby operate as a form of money in daily economic activities.23 In short, it is possible to state with conWdence that the emergence of an Athenian market in crops to sustain a population exceeding carrying capacity (and thus dependent on grain imports) dates to Solonian times and was decisively stimulated by Solon’s legislation. Equally important for Athenian history was the fact that the pressing social and economic crisis at the turn of the seventh and sixth centuries had been met successfully by an imposed political solution. The precedent this set for the future of Athenian politics emerges clearly in the variety of measures of the Classical period that we have encountered in this book: grain and land distributions; legislative controls and judicial provisions for the grain market; the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3; the requirement to discuss the grain supply at the principal assembly of each prytany—all attest amply to the normal handling in Athenian politics of the economic problems of overpopulation and grain supply. Recent work by M. H. Hansen, along completely diVerent lines of inquiry, puts this Athenian situation in a wider Greek context.24 His ‘‘shotgun method’’ pools the vast quantity of archaeological and textual data that he and his Copenhagen Polis Centre team have collected on the degree of urbanization of 1,035 known Greek poleis, and from this Hansen attempts a calculation of the total population of the Greek world in the fourth century. He arrives at ‘‘a cautious total’’ of 7.5 million and ‘‘a possible total’’ of 8 to 10 million Greeks, and concludes: . . . the typical large polis either was or was close to being a myriandros polis, a polis with 10,000 adult male citizens. Thus, the myriandros polis was not an exceptionally large ideal polis, it was the normal large polis which counted

23 Kim (2001), 13–20; cf. Osborne (1996), 222, who glides over the important distinction between money and coinage: see Kim (2001), 8–9 and Andrewes (1982a), 383–4 (the Athenian drachma was a unit of weight before it was a unit of coinage). It is in this historical context that the twelve Solonian laws involving payments in silver bullion belong: Kroll (1998), 225–32, against e.g. Osborne (1996), 222; Weber’s old view [1909] (1976), 164, is essentially the correct one, despite his belief that coinage existed at the time of Solon. 24 Hansen (2006). I am very grateful to M. H. Hansen for allowing me to read and discuss his manuscript well before publication.



for, I guess, something like 5–10 percent of all poleis inhabited by about onethird of all the ancient Greeks.25

If Hansen is right, it follows that the Athenian grain supply belongs in a context in which the inhabitants of many other Greek poleis (even in unexpected areas like Boeotia) needed regularly to import grain during the Classical period. Athens, in other words, may have been exceptional only in terms of the great quantity of grain that it imported, but not at all in the fact that it was an importer.26 Shocking as this result may be for a generation of ancient historians bred and (in some cases) still stuck in the ‘‘cellular self-suYciency’’ theories of the ‘‘new orthodoxy’’,27 it is unremarkable from the perspective of Mediterranean history over the last three millennia, as recently demonstrated by Horden and Purcell.28 The signiWcance of Hansen’s conclusion lies not so much in reinforcing the case made throughout this book that Athens depended heavily on grain imports, but rather in that the Greek world as a whole was so densely populated. Many or even most Greek poleis will have imported grain probably from (what Horden and Purcell have called) their ‘‘extended hinterlands’’, an accumulation of thousands of microregions, each presenting a localized instance of surplus or deWcit, and each interconnected with others in ever widening networks of exchange.29 Hansen’s conclusion also gives an interesting perspective to the passage from the Panegyricus of Isocrates that we encountered at the opening of Chapter 3. According to Isocrates, imperial Athens was a benefactor to the Greeks because it had sent its cleruchies to depopulated states ( a Kæ  ı Æ H ºø ) for the protection of their territories (N ıºÆŒB  ŒÆ H øæ ø ). Was Isocrates right? The testimony seems likely, for example, in the case of the Thracian Chersonesus, where the elder Miltiades went at the invitation of the Thracian Dolonci, who needed help in their war against a neighbour tribe, the Apsinthians. Herodotus tells us that Miltiades built a wall at the neck of the Chersonesus, from the Hellespont to the gulf of 25 Ibid. 30. 26 See Dem. 20.31: Y  ªaæ  ı FŁ , ‹ Ø º  fiø H  ø I Łæø E KØŒ fiø  fiø æŁÆ; Hansen notes (2006), 89 that the only two attested exporters of grain in Hellas (i.e. the Greek heartland) are Thessaly and Euboea. 27 See Hopkins (1983), pp. x–xiv for a summary. 28 Horden and Purcell (2000), 115–22. 29 Ibid. 121.



Cardia, in order to stop the enemy’s raids.30 We have in addition Plutarch’s account of Pericles’ cleruchy on Chersonesus, standardly dated to 447, which mentions the depopulation of the peninsula before the new cleruchs arrived: Of all his expeditions, that to the Chersonesus was held in most loving remembrance, since it proved the salvation of the Hellenes who dwelt there. Not only did he bring there a thousand Athenian colonists and stock the cities anew with vigorous manhood (ææø PÆ æ fi Æ a ºØ), but he also belted the neck of the isthmus with defensive bulwarks from sea to sea, and so intercepted the incursions of the Thracians who swarmed about the Chersonese, and shut out the perpetual and grievous war in which the country was all the time involved, in close touch as it was with neighbouring communities of barbarians, and full to overXowing of robber bands whose haunts were on or within its borders.31

But if Hansen’s calculations are correct, will there have been many other similar places in the Greek world that were depopulated when the Athenians sent their cleruchies? It seems extremely unlikely. Yet this does not mean that what Isocrates presents to us is a barefaced lie—our sophist was far too clever for that. Instead, he seems to be reinterpreting two of the principal characterisitcs of Athenian cleruchies. The Wrst consisted in depopulating the landscape of the original and defeated community. The second, protection (ıºÆŒ), was then vigorously implemented, if we can take as a guide the evidence we have seen in Chapter 3. We have already seen depopulation in action in our detailed examination of the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3. Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros were capable of exporting sizeable grain shipments to Athens precisely because Athens had imposed cleruchies of pentakosiomedimnoi on these islands. After the local populations had been expelled or enslaved, these territories were calculatingly divided up into very few and very large land-holdings, with a population large enough to cultivate them but small enough to generate large food surpluses. We have seen in the case of Scyros (p. 112) that this would translate into a population density less than one tenth of that of contemporary Attica. Contributing to the depopulation of the islands was the 30 Hdt. 6.36–7.

31 Plut. Per. 19 (Loeb trans.); for the date, see IACP, 901.



additional fact (as we have seen) that after receiving a kleros any Athenian cleruch who wished to do so could return to Attica, and that this is in fact what many did. Without pretending to exhaust the evidence, we can note similar instances of depopulation imposed by Athens on overseas territories on at least three other occasions: (1) In 446, the polis of Histiaea (a territory of about 1,000 km2 covering the northern third of Euboea) had its population removed to Macedonia, and was turned into a cleruchy for either 1,000 or 2,000 Athenians.32 (2) In 416/15, the polis of Melos (an island measuring 151 km2 ) was turned into a cleruchy.33 According to Thucydides, all citizen males of military age were executed, and all women and children enslaved. We do not know what the original population of Melos had been, but it was large enough to warrant Athens’ sending against it thirty-eight triremes plus a total of 3,000 armed men.34 The island’s carrying capacity has been estimated to have been around 5,000.35 In short, it would be diYcult to argue that the number of Melians displaced was similar to what was installed in its place: a group of just 500 Athenian cleruchs.36 (3) In 365/4, the polis of Samos (an island that measures 468 km2 ) was made into a cleruchy. The Athenians ‘‘expelled all the Samians’’ ( Æ Kƺ )—in their stead, they sent three contingents of cleruchs, one numbering 2,000.37 Perhaps surprisingly, according to Craterus, it was this relatively late incident in Athenian history that made the phrase ‘‘Attic neighbour’’ (.

ØŒe æ ØŒ ) proverbial for 32 See Chapter 3, p. 97 n. 99. 33 IACP, 758; in the light of the passage we have been discussing, Reger’s observation is interesting: ‘‘Isokrates describes Melos as a polichnion (12.98), perhaps as part of his eVort to minimise the atrocities committed in C5 by the Athenians’’. 34 Thuc. 5.84. 35 WagstaV and Cherry (1982), 145. 36 Thuc. 5.116. 37 Heraclides FHG II, 216 (¼ Arist. F 611.35 Rose); Strab. 14.1.18 gives the same number; on the chronology, see Rhodes (1993), 694; IACP, 1094, 1098; GriYth (1978), 139–42 (140: ‘‘This was really the biggest imperialist coup since the colonizing of Lesbos by the cleruchs sent there after the revolt of Mytilene’’); Shipley (1987), 140–3; Hallof and Habicht (1995), 286 n. 7; Badian (1995), 91 n. 26; cf. Cargill (1995), 21 n. 20.



the noxious neighbour: ‘‘for people from Attica were sent to Samos and having become settlers there expelled the native population’’.38 As the following fourth case illustrates, wholesale depopulations were not ordered in every case, as at Lesbos: (4) In 427, the Athenians divided a segment of Lesbos of about 1,200 km2 (i.e. about half the size of Attica) into 3,000 kleroi.39 The population of Mytilene alone (which we may gauge from a midfourth-century inscription suggesting the polis imported at least 100,000 medimnoi annually from the Bosporan kingdom) would have been in the range of at least 20,000 inhabitants.40 It is a terrifying testimony to the nature of Athenian imperialism to think of this redistribution from more than 20,000 Lesbians to just 3,000 Athenians. Here no formal expulsion took place, but our previous examples show how unlikely it is that the arrival of cleruchs would simply have involved a peaceful transfer of land ownership, with most of the Lesbians allowed to remain in place on land no longer their own. The same reasoning applies to known instances in which Athenian cleruchies resulted in reduction of tribute levied on the aVected polis, so evidently not the expulsion of the whole population.41 Since almost all of our textual evidence for the Classical period is Athenian, it is easy to overlook that the social and economic cost of the depopulation (partial or total) of any of these landscapes by Athens must have been tremendous from the point of view of its victims: displacement from their land, exile, and famine. In the case of at least some of the Mytileneans, we may even reXect that the original punishment devised for them at Athens, execution or enslavement, may not have seemed signiWcantly less kind than what was in fact imposed.42 Only so can we fully appreciate the loathing for 38 FGrHist 342 F21: `

ØŒ d ªaæ  ÆŁ  N  ŒÆd KŒE ŒÆ ØŒÆ 

f Kªøæ ı KøÆ ; the proverb appears also in Arist Rhet. 1395a18; Duris FGrHist 76 F96; on its meaning, see GriYth (1978), 140: ‘‘. . . the Greek counterpart to our ‘cuckoo in the nest’ ’’ (the cuckoo is the most notorious of parasitic birds); see Figueira (1991), 29 n. 59. 39 Lesbos measures a total area of 1,614 km2 , while the territory of Methymna (which was not part of the cleruchy) covered about 400 km2 . 40 Tod II 163. 41 See Meiggs (1972), 121–3, 530. 42 Thuc. 3.36.



Athenian cleruchies that led to their prominent abjuration on the prospectus of the Second Athenian League in 377. And even this promise, as we know, was not the end of the hated institution. It is no wonder that Alexander’s Exiles Decree, delivered in the summer of 324 at Olympia before a cheering audience including 20,000 exiles from all parts of the Greek world, was tantamount to a declaration of war by the Macedonian (now also Persian) king on Athens and its cleruchy on Samos.43 But happily for Athens’ Aegean neighbours, that cleruchy was one of an exceptional few created or maintained in the fourth century. It was merely a ghost of a systematic project that had died, along with the Athenian empire, in 404.44 Instead, fourth-century Athens focused its attentions on another surplus-producing landscape. It was much more remote, but the distance could be overcome. We have seen that by incorporating the Spartocid dynasts into its citizen body, Athenian politicians ensured that their lands around the sea of Azov, extensive, sparsely settled, and cultivated by serf-like populations of non-Greeks, also became a virtual Athenian territory. Delivering half of Athens’ needs each year, this far-away land now became the backbone of the democracy ’s grain supply.45 The Athenian grain supply, in other words, operated on a far more concerted and organized basis than the model of Horden and Purcell, described above, allows.46 The key to understanding it is the sharp diVerence in population density between an area of production and an area of consumption, combined with the successful exercise of military power and diplomacy in establishing and directing trade between the two. One wonders how (despite Solon’s tremendous success in solving this very same type of problem politically, by stimulating the creation of the cash-crop economy of Attica) Athens discovered 43 See Faraguna (1999), 73. 44 The image of the ghost is Toynbee’s, further elaborated by Badian (1995). 45 The frequently repeated idea that Athenian desire for Pontic grain boils down to an acquired taste for wheat is not only undemonstrable, but trivializing: see Gernet (1909), 320–6; Rathbone (1983), 47; Sallares (1991), 332. 46 Horden and Purcell (2000), 121: ‘‘If the dynamics of the extended hinterlands that supported an Athens or a Genoa could be considered in detail, rather than by overview, what at Wrst appeared a grand system, operating as if by some careful plan, would be revealed as an accumulation of very local phenomena’’.



the means to organize its grain supply in this dirigiste fashion. One could speculate that the Greeks’ experience of the armies of Lydia, Egypt, Media, and Persia in the seventh and sixth centuries played a role. These vast movements of manpower were supplied with grain surpluses obtained through a delicate mixture of trade and commandeering. If it worked for an army as large as a city, why not for a city? Herodotus describes, for example, how the invasion of Egypt by Cambyses prompted Greek traders to Xock to the country.47 Cambyses had no need to import grain to Egypt, but he would have needed traders as intermediaries in the collection and transport of supplies. The sieges of Miletus by Alyattes and Darius, and the Welding of armies in the Ionian Revolt and Persian Wars, will have required the Greeks themselves to secure grain surpluses on ever larger scales. By 480, these logistics had evolved in Greek hands to the point that Gelon of Syracuse could oVer the mainland Greeks extraordinary quantities of manpower and supplies.48 The history of the Athenian cleruchy in particular is also certain to owe much to earlier experience, especially of the Greeks in the colonial world. But the Wrm Athenian principle (enshrined in law since Salamis) that the possession of cleruchic land entailed a liability to Athenian taxes and military service, in addition to the way that Athens often dealt with its conquered territories by depopulation and enslavement, points to another antecedent in Greek history that should not be overlooked: the seventh-century Spartan annexation of Messenia, and the distribution of this large area of land in the form of kleroi to its conquerors, its farming by its former and thenceforth enslaved owners, and the contribution of its produce to the Spartiate common mess (syssitia).49 Given what little we know of Spartan institutions, however, we must leave this as an open question for future research. What now seems certain, if my interpretation of the Grain-Tax Law is correct, is that the agricultural exploitation of Athenian 47 Hdt. 3.139. 48 Hdt. 7.158: 200 triremes, 20,000 infantry, 2,000 cavalry, an equal number of auxiliary troops, and grain for the whole Greek army as long as the war should last. 49 The two key passages for this distribution are Polyb. 6.45.3 (see with F. W. Walbank (1970), 728–31) and Plutarch Lyc. 8. See the interesting comments by Weber [1909] (1976), 167.



cleruchic territory presented a fundamental contrast to the socioeconomic situation in Attica itself. The former was an essentially monocultural and latifundist system, geared to the production of large quantities of grain for export, while Attica was polycultural and minifundist, geared to producing a diversity of cash-crops for sale in the Athenian market. In addition, the cleruchies (in this respect operating similarly to the Laurium mines) required an easily quantiWable type of labour input, ideally slaves, while in Attic polyculture the much greater Xexibility of non-slave labour could more practically and proWtably accomplish a variety of speciWc seasonal tasks. Finally, the cleruchies were very sparsely, Attica very densely settled. We might say, to conclude, that the Athenian grain supply was a bipolar system, and that it bears an instructive likeness to the wellknown example of Tauric Chersonesus (neighbouring modern Sevastopol) in the western Crimea. From the mid-fourth to the second centuries, the ‘‘near territory’’ of Chersonesus, partitioned into 2,400 lots, each 4.5 ha, was engaged in commercial viticulture and fruit cultivation, while (thanks to military conquest and control) its extensive territorial empire in northwest Crimea became a latifundist granary.50 This same kind of economic bipolarity may be the key to explaining Athens’ particular form of political relation to its cleruchies. The latter were never integrated into the Cleisthenic system precisely because they were never economically assimilated to the prevailing regime in Attica. Nor was such integration and assimilation ever a political issue at Athens, a fact that tells us much about the nature of the democracy. In eVect, the Athenians consciously separated the traditional economy of their immediate countryside from an overseas grain supply always controlled by a colonial elite. In this fundamental way mass and elite in democratic Athens were economically, just as they were politically, interdependent. This is why the installment of cleruchies, the forcible depopulation of landscapes for the sake of generating surpluses of grain for Athens, the courting of so much hatred from so many fellow Greeks, was so intimately a part of Athenian democratic politics. It required the elaboration of an ideology to justify and (if possible) hide its less than friendly side; the rhetoric and policies to deploy this ideology in 50 See IACP, 941–4; Zoubar (1993), 28.



practice; and a political class capable of the rhetoric and conscious of the opportunities and demands that such policies entailed. Let us remember ‘‘grain in the public domain’’ (E  K fiH Œ Ø fiH) at the opening of the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3. Let us remember the installment of the cleruchy at Scyros a century earlier, which came complete with Cimon’s repatriation of the bones of Theseus, henceforth the great democratic hero of the Athenians. Let us remember the conquest of Euboea, recalled decades later as the joint success of Pericles and the Athenian demos, with the geometric equality of kleroi appearing as the ‘‘democratic and useful scheme’’ (ØÆ   ØŒe ŒÆd æØ ) in the Clouds of Aristophanes. And let us remember all the other comic passages in which the beneWts of Athenian democracy are measured in terms of food, resources, and wealth. The Athenian Empire indeed was, as an increasing number of ancient historians are rightly coming to see, an empire of resources.51 Not that postimperial Athens was fundamentally diVerent: harnessing its grain supply to the expansionist Bosporan Kingdom, making its kings into citizens and rhetorically airbrushing them as democrats, the Athenian empire of resources continued to live and to succeed to the end of the democracy. This is the history of the democratic Athenian grain supply: an empire of resources of the demos, but ultimately not by the demos, or even for the demos. We have seen how much control really belonged to an elite of Athenian politicians, and to its powers of leadership, organization, distribution, and persuasion. It is time to question seriously the idea of the ‘‘ideological hegemony of the masses’’, or of the Athenian politician controlled by the demos.52 It was an Athenian elite that guided its city’s grain supply, anchoring it on overseas cleruchies in the Wfth century, and on trade with Panticapaeum in the fourth. The former invited Greek hatred, the latter any enemy capable of severing the delicate connection: Athens, led by its elite, fought determinedly—and ultimately unsuccessfully—against each threat. Had it not been for the commanding inXuence and power of an elite in its grain trade, Athens would most probably have looked, like other Greek states, to the unorganized import of

51 Nixon and Price (1990); Kallet (2001).

52 Ober (1989).



food from the thousands of ‘‘extended hinterlands’’ closer to home. Perhaps then would Egypt and Cyrene, Sicily and the Po, feature more obviously in this history. The potential of the Wrst two of these places to disgorge vast amounts of grain is especially evident: from the gift of 30–40,000 medimnoi from Psammetichus to Athens in 445, to the breathtaking gift of 500,000 medimnoi from Nephereus to the Spartans in 396, to the even greater distribution of a total of 805,000 medimnoi from Cyrene to various parts of Greece (among which, Athens, the largest recipient, obtained 100,000) in c.330–26.53 But no systematic form of supply ever existed to Athens from these sources, as it clearly did, thanks to the Athenian elite, from the Athenian cleruchies and Spartocid Panticapaeum. In summary, the evidence presented in this book has demonstrated the following seven arguments: 1. Fifth- and fourth-century Athens was never self-suYcient in grain, and always needed to import more than one-half of its yearly requirements from overseas. 2. The Attic demes depended on the intensive cultivation of cashcrops, and on an intra-regional market network linking them to overseas supplies of grain. 3. Athens drew on its overseas cleruchies, especially on Euboea, for most of its grain imports during the Wfth century, i.e. before and during the Peloponnesian War. 4. Athens Wrst drew on the Bosporan Kingdom for most of its grain imports after the Peloponnesian War. 5. Fifth-century grain imports depended principally on surplus production from the cleruchic land-holdings of wealthy Athenians, a phenomenon that continued in fourth-century Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros.

53 Philoch. FGrHist 328 F119 and Plut. Per. 37 (Psammetichus); Diod. 14.79.4 (Nephereus); Egypt: Milne (1939); Roebuck (1950); Salmon (1965); Porten and Yardeni (1993); see also Bacchylides F20 B Snell-Maehler ap. Ath. 2.39e–f with Bravo (1983), 18, 27 n. 9; Merkelbach (1973). Cyrene: Kingsley (1986); Brun (1993); Mo¨ller (2000); GHI II 96, ll. 486–93 (it is unknown whether the medimnos used in this inscription is the Attic or Aeginetan/Laconian medimnos, which is 50% larger).



6. Fourth-century grain imports depended principally on surplus production from those parts of the Scythian steppe constituting the royal territory of the Spartocid dynasty. 7. Athenian politics developed a system of public behaviour that is manifested in rhetoric, and that reconciled the ideals of democracy with the reality of elite control over the city’s grain supply.


Relevant Measures I(a). Attic coin weights 1 drachma ¼ 4.36 grams, where 6 obols ¼ 1 drachma, 100 dr. ¼ 1 mina, 6,000 dr. ¼ 60 mnai ¼ 1 talent

I(b). Attic market weights (‘‘under Solon’’: see ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. 10.2) 1 drachma ¼ 4.36 grams, where 6,300 dr. ¼ 63 mnai ¼ 27.47 kg. ¼ 1 talent

II. Attic measures of dry volume 1 kotyle ¼ 0.2735 litres 4 kotylai ¼ 1 choinix ¼ 1.094 litres 32 kotylai ¼ 8 choinikes ¼ 1 hekteus ¼ 8.752 litres 192 kotylai ¼ 48 choinikes ¼ 6 hekteis ¼ 1 medimnos ¼ 52.512 litres

The key to converting a medimnos of wheat or barley into its approximate weight equivalent appears in lines 21–5 of GHI II 26 in Appendix 3; see Stroud (1998), 55: ‘‘The buyer will weigh out the wheat at a weight of a talent for Wve hekteis, and the barley at a weight of a talent per medimnos’’. Thus: 1 medimnos of wheat ¼ 32.96 kg 1 medimnos of barley ¼ 27.47 kg

NB: Before this discovery, the weight of ancient grains was simply taken as roughly equivalent to modern varieties, which now turn out to be considerably (c.30%) heavier (e.g., 1 medimnos-equivalent of modern wheat and barley at 40.54 kg and 33.77 kg respectively). The nutritional value of the medimnos is thus signiWcantly less than previously thought.


Appendix 1 III. Attic measures of liquid volume 1 kotyle ¼ 0.2735 litres 12 kotylai ¼ 1 chous ¼ 3.282 litres 144 kotylai ¼ 12 choes ¼ 1 metretes (or wine amphora) ¼ 39.38 litres

IV. Attic measures of area 1 plethron (based on the ‘‘Attic’’ or ‘‘Solonic’’ foot of 295.7 mm) ¼ 874:38 m2 , so that: 1 ha (10,000 m2 ) ¼ 11.44 plethra, and 1 km2 (1,000,000 m2 ) ¼ 1,144 plethra

V. Grain prices Wheat: The average price in the collection of fourth-century evidence in Pritchett (1956), 197 (which the reader should consult together with Rosivach (2000), 53–5) is around 6 dr./medimnos. Even the few sources make clear that price could vary widely depending on supply, demand, and quality, and it is thus very unlikely that any sort of ‘‘normal’’ or ‘‘customary’’ price existed (see Stroud (1998), 74 n. 175; Bresson (2000), 183–210). Barley: Though equally variable, the price of barley was normally half that of wheat: references to the evidence in Pritchett (1956), 186.


Land-Leases Table 5 is intended as a partial revision of the table of leases by Osborne.1 The most important point that Osborne fails to note is that leases I–III only stipulate biennial fallow for the last year of the lease. Lease I explicitly leaves it up to the lessee to decide whether to use biennial fallow during the rest of the time, and leases II and III do the same implicitly by not stipulating fallow until the last year. Voluntary fallowing does not mean that the lessee cultivated the entire plot, however. As we have seen in Chapter 1, biennial fallow was the main ancient means of avoiding quick and devastating soilexhaustion. The stipulation on the same three leases to leave half the land fallow in the last year of the contract is doubtless meant to prevent a rogue tenant from exhausting the land in the year he last used it, as Xenophon implies.2 The stipulation was also a written guarantee to the next tenant that the land had not received such treatment. Also important is the fact that pulses were not stipulated until dates in the late fourth century (leases IV and V). Considering that IG I3 252 (the only evidence employed by Jameson and Garnsey to argue for the use of pulses in the Wfth century) probably dates from the fourth century,3 all the evidence indicates that pulses were not used in Attic agriculture until late in the Classical period. It is around this period that Theophrastus mentions the use of beans as fertilizers in Macedonia and Thessaly, indicating that the practice was rare or unknown in Attica.4 It is important to note that using pulses as a fertilizer, by plouging them into the land as was done with the Wrst shoots of plants in Xenophon’s Oeconomicus (17.10), was the only way that they would not exhaust the soil.5 Although Theophrastus appears to have known this about the chick-pea, he did not think that harvesting beans was as detrimental to the soil:6 this mistake only lends support to the argument of Athenian inexperience with pulses. 1 Osborne (1987), 42–3. 2 Xen. Symp. 8.25. 3 M. Walbank (1974), 164 n. 10, dates the inscription (¼ IG I2 38) according to the lettering. This is noted in IG I3 ad 252. See Chapter 1, p. 16 n. 82 above. 4 Theophr. HP 8.9.1. 5 Sallares (1991), 300–1, 473 n. 18. 6 See Theophr. HP 8.9.1; Sallares (1991), 300–1.

328 Table 5.

Appendix 2 Land-Leases

Date Origin Length of lease Biennial fallow from Wrst until penultimate year of lease Biennial fallow on last year of lease Pulses Payment

I. IG II2 2492

II. IG II2 2493 þ 2494

III. IG II2 2498

IV. IG II2 1241

V. SIG 3 963

345/4 Aixone 40 years —

339/8 Rhamnous 10 years Stipulated

321/0 Piraeus 10 years Voluntary

300/299 Myrrhinous 10 years Stipulated

IV C. Amorgos — Stipulated

Stipulated Stipulated

Stipulated Stipulated

On 1/2 of fallow

152 dr./yr.

On voluntary portion of fallow 600 dr./yr.

Stipulated — —

ATTICA IGII2 2492:(345/4)(Aixone)Forty-yearlease(ll.2–3);152 dr.per year (ll.3–4); fallowstipulatedonly forlast yearoflease(ll.14–16).7 IG II2 2493 þ IG II2 2494: (339/8) (Rhamnous) Ten-year lease (ll. 10–13); half to be fallow each year (l. 10); pulses for half of the fallow (ll. 9–10); some portion of the land must be fallow in the last year of the lease (ll. 22–3).8 IG II2 2498: (321/0) (Piraeus) Conditions on various plots: no removing wood or earth (ll. 10–13); cultivation as wished during first nine years, but half of land must be left fallow on last (tenth) year, so that next lessee may begin to work land from the 16th of Anthesterion (ll. 18–21); penalty if more than half of the land is sown (ll. 21–2). IG I3 252: (fourth century9)Supposedly earliest surviving mention of pulses (ll. 12–3).10 IG II2 1241: (300/299) (Myrrhinous) Ten-year lease (ll. 1–9) or more if wished (ll. 42 V.); 600 dr. per year (l. 13); wheat to be planted on half 7 See SEG x1 287, reporting no new readings in the text. 8 The two inscriptions seem to have originally been part of the same lease: SEG xxxiv 123 (cf. SEG 37 xxxvii 123). 9 This very fragmentary but important inscription is wrongly dated to the middle of the Wfth century by IG (loc. cit.) and this date is accepted by Jameson (1977–8), 130, and Garnsey (1988), 94 n. 15, who use the inscription as evidence for the use of pulses from an early date. See n. 3 above. 10 Very fragmentary; see Jameson (1977–8), 130.

Appendix 2


of the land; pulses can be planted on half of the fallow land in whatever amount lessee wishes (ll. 22–4).


SIG 963, ll. 1–36: (fourth century) (Amorgos) Mixed use of land; biennial fallow stipulated for entire time (ll. 8–9); fallow land must be thriceploughed (l. 9).11

11 Discussion in Osborne (1987), 36–7.


Athenian Law Taxing Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros, 374/3 bc (GHI II 26) Reprinted from: P. J. Rhodes and R. Osborne, Greek Historical Inscriptions, 404–323 BC, Oxford (2003), 118–23 (Copyright: P. J. Rhodes and Robin Osborne). A complete marble stele found in the east wall of the Great Drain in Athens, near the north-east corner of the Stoa Basileios in 1986, now in the Agora Museum (Agora inv. no. I 7557). Above the moulding on which the inscription begins is a slightly recessed panel with irregular contour at top: this may have had a painting, possibly of heaps or sacks of grain, although no traces survive. Phot. Stroud, The Athenian Grain-Tax Law, Wgs. 1–4. Attic-Ionic, but retaining the old for ı in lines 8, 11, 14, 19, 40, and 55, and  for Ø in lines 42 and 46. Stoichedon 31 except in line 58 which has 32 letters. Stroud, The Athenian Grain-Tax Law*; SEG xlvii 96. Trans. Stroud, 9. See also E. M. Harris, ZPE cxxviii 1999, 269–72; M. Faraguna, Dike ii 1999, 63–97; J. Engels, ZPE cxxxii 2000, 97–124.




hŁi . Kd øŒæÆ  ¼æ 

  æd B øŒ  F  ııı

H ø . vacat `ªææØ  r  : ‹ø i HØ øØ E[ ] qØ K HØ Œ Ø HØ, c øŒ øº[E] c K ¸ øØ ŒÆd ”æøØ ŒÆd Œæø[ØŒ]Æd c  Œ  c  :  b æd ,Œ: []  ÆØ  ÆŒØ Ø Ø Ø, ı[æH] b ,ŒÆ  , ŒæØŁH b  æÆŒØ Ø: [Œ ]ØE e E ŒØ  øØ HØ ,Æı Ð › : [æ]Ø  N e —ØæÆØA ŒÆd I ÆŒ Ø[]E N e ¼ ı e E ºØ E Æ: [!] Ð ŒÆd ŒÆ Æ Ø e E N e `N: [Œ]Ø :  ª b ŒÆd Łıæø Ææ: []Ø e `NŒØ  ºØ ŒÆd I  [Ø ]e E BØ º Ø æØŒ Æ æH : [›] æØ , KØa I ÆŒ   Ø N [¼]-

Appendix 3

Gods. In the archonship of Socratides. Law concerning the one twelfth of the grain of the islands. 5


Agyrrhius proposed: in order that the people may have grain publicly available, sell the tax of one twelfth at Lemnos, Imbros, and Scyros, and the tax of one Wftieth, in grain. Each share will be Wve hundred medimnoi, one hundred of wheat and four hundred of barley. The buyer will convey the grain to Piraeus at his own risk, and will transport the grain up to the city at his own expense and will heap up the grain in the Aiakeion. The city will make available the Aiakeion covered and with a door, and the buyer will weigh out the grain for the city within thirty days of whatever the date when he transports it to the city, at his own expense. When he transports



Appendix 3 20









ı, ºØ E Æ! Ð: KØa b I ÆŒ[ ] Ø N e ¼ ı, K ŒØ P æØ [ ]ºØ f æØÆ ı: f ıæ f I: [ ] Ø › æØ  ºŒ Æ   ,: [Œ] hÆi e ºÆ , a b ŒæØhŁia ,ºŒ []hÆi e Ø ºÆ  æa I : [ ]Ø ŒÆŁÆæa ÆNæH , e hiŒøÆ Kd B[Ø "] h iØ  ŒÆ, ŒÆŁæ ƒ ¼ºº Ø [] æ[ ]Ø: æ ŒÆ Æ ºc P ŁØ › æ Æ[ ] [ I]ºº K ØÆ ŒÆd Œ æŒØÆ ŒÆ a c []æ[ ]Æ YŒ Ø æÆhi: Kªªı hai ŒÆ Æ []Ø › æØ   ŒÆ a c æ Æ IØ[]æø, R i   ıºc  ŒØ Ø: ı[ æ] Æ  ÆØ  æd æØ ºØ Ø Ø: [ Ø], £ ¼ æ:  ºØ æØ c ı æ[ Æ] e E ŒhÆid Ææ , e ŒÆd Ææ ± [ ø] H K BØ ı æ ÆØ Z ø , ø i: [a Æ]! B I º Ø: ƃæ Łø b › B  [Œ]hÆi h¼i æÆ K `Ł Æ ø ± ø K BØ [KŒ]Œº  ÆØ, ‹ Æ æ f  æÆ ª f Æ[ƒæ]H ÆØ, ¥ Ø  Kغ ÆØ F  [ ] : y Ø b I   Ø e E : Œ[Æ] a a ªªæÆ Æ øº ø K BØ Iª[ æ]AØ, ‹ Æ HØ øØ  ŒBØ: øºÐ b c K[]E ÆØ KØł  ÆØ æ æ F ` Ł[ ] æØH   : › b B  Æ ø c [Ø]c H ıæH ŒÆd H ŒæØŁH › ı [æ]c øºÐ f ƃæŁ Æ: e b hEi [ ]ƒ æØ Ø c øŒ Œ Ø ø æe F ÆØÆŒ æØH   : ƒ b Æ: ƒæŁ  !e F  ı Kغ Łø ‹ø i Œ  " ÆØ › E  K HØ æ : øØ HØ Næ  øØ: KØa b I H ÆØ ƒ ƃæŁ  e E , º ªØŁø[ ] K HØ øØ ŒÆd a æÆ Æ Œ ø []æ  N e B ŒÆd  ø  æÆ Ø[ø] ØŒhai a KŒ Ð  ª  Æ: c b æ [Œ]Æ Æ ºc c KŒ H ø æ ÆØ [f] I Œ Æ ŒÆd B  Œ  B, ‹ [ ]æ æıØ h iyæ KŒ E ı E Œ [:]Ø , e b F r ÆØ N c Ø Œ Ø[ Œ]Æd e º Øe c hIiÆØæE g  Œ [:] KŒ H ŒÆ hÆiƺº  ø æ  ø :ıııı

19 punctuation, Lambert (personal communication). 25 Kd )˙[::]j˝h˙i Stroud suggests either. 46 The iota of E has an additional diagonal stroke at the top. 58–9 Œ [Æ]jØ or Œ [ ]jØ . 60 Œ [Æ] or Œ [ø].

Appendix 3








it to the city, the city will not exact rent from the buyers. The buyer will weigh out the wheat at a weight of a talent for Wve hekteis, and the barley at a weight of a talent for a medimnos, dry and clean of darnel, arranging the standard weight on the balance, just as the other merchants. The buyer will not make a down payment but will pay sales taxes and auctioneers’ fees at the rate of 20 drachmas per share. The buyer will nominate two creditworthy guarantors, whom the Council has scrutinized, for each share. A symmory will consist of six men, and the share 3000 medimnoi. In the case of a symmory the city will exact the grain from each and all of those who are in the symmory, until it recovers what belongs to it. Let the people elect ten men from all the Athenians in the assembly, when they elect the generals, to have oversight of the grain. When these oYcials have the grain weighed according to what has been written, let them sell it in the Agora at whatever moment the people decide is right; but it is not to be possible to put to the vote the question of selling before the month of Anthesterion. Let the people set the price at which those elected must sell the wheat and the barley. Let the buyers of the twelfth transport the grain before the month Maimakterion. Let the men elected by the people exercise oversight so that the grain is transported at the stated time. When those who have been elected sell the grain, let them render their accounts before the people and let them come before the people carrying the money and let the money raised from the grain be stratiotic. The Receivers are to allocate the down-payment from the islands and as much of the Wftieth tax as was last year brought in from the two tenths; on this occasion it is to be for the Wnancial administration, in future the two tenths are not to be taken away from the moneys deposited.



The Regulation of the Grain Market I. Besides being required by law to discuss the grain supply (alongside national defence) at the principal meeting of the assembly (ekklesia kyria) of each prytany, i.e. ten times a year ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. 43.4; see Arist. Rhet. 1359b21–3, 1360a12–17; Xen. Mem. 3.6.1), fourth-century Athens yearly elected at least 50 magistrates responsible in diVerent ways for the supply and sale of grain. At least some of these oYces seem to originate in the Wfth century. The complex interplay between them was carefully regulated (see e.g. in the currency law of 375/4: see GHI II 25, ll. 18–23). This evidence shows the grain trade and the grain market (sitikon emporion) as by far the most heavily regulated part of the Athenian economy. See Engels (2000), 99–101; Whitby (1998), 120–3; Rosivach (2000), 44–52 for further discussion of these oYcials. 10 Agoranomoi (5 in Piraeus þ 5 in the asty, elected by lot). Kept order in the agora, enforced good quality, and prevented fraud. Collected market dues and a market tax from metic retailers. Had some judicial and executive powers (see Ar. Ach. 723–4, 968; [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 51.1) (for full references to these and the other magistrates see Rhodes (1993), 575–9). 10 Metronomoi (5 in Piraeus þ 5 in the asty, elected by lot). Policed all weights and measures used in the Athenian markets (see [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 51.2). 10–35 Grain guardians (Sitophylakes) (5 (later 15) in Piraeus þ 5 (later 20) in the asty, elected by lot). Were the principal magistrates overseeing the grain market (sitikon emporion: see GHI II 25), kept accurate records of the amount of grain entering the Piraeus (Dem. 20.32), and enforced: (a) the Solonic prohibition on export of any agricultural product except olive oil (Plut. Sol. 24.1); (b) the prohibition for any Athenian resident to engage in, or lend money on, any grain shipment not destined for Piraeus ([Dem.] 34.37; 35.50–1; Lyc. 1.27). With this and the previous law, compare the public imprecations at Teos, c.470, on anyone preventing the import of grain or its re-export (¼ GHI 30A, ll. 6–12); see Millett (1991), 206–7;

Appendix 4


(c) the prohibition against hoarding or monopolizing (sympriasthai) more than 50 phormoi of grain (Lys. 22.5–6); see Ch. 5, pp. 213 ff. above; cf. Thuc. 8.90 in 411; (d) the prohibition against making a proWt of more than one obol per phormos (Lys. 22.8, 12); (e) similar price and proWt controls imposed on millers and bread-sellers ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. 53.3); (f) the sale of bread-loaves at prescribed weights; (g) the levying by tax-farmers of the special pentekoste (2%) harbour tax on all grain entering or leaving Piraeus (Dem. 20.32 with [Dem.] 59.27). NB: The consequences of violating any of these laws could be dire—death being usually invoked by prosecutors: Lycurg. 1.27. 10 Overseers (Epimeletai) of the Emporion (in Piraeus, elected by lot). Compelled the emporoi to unload all grain at the sitikon emporion at Piraeus, and from there to transfer to the asty two-thirds of it ([Arist.] Ath. Pol. 51.4); cf. Garnsey (1988), 140–1, with Gauthier (1981); Rosivach (2000), 45, 47; and Whitby (1998), 121 n. 35. 10 Overseers of the Grain (tou sitou) (in the asty, elected by vote). Oversaw the scheduled transport, weighing, and storage of the public grain raised by the Grain-Tax Law of 374/3, and its sale at the price set by the people (see GHI II 26 and Appendix 3); see Rosivach (2000), 44–5, notes 41, 43. II. Other attested Athenian grain-oYcials include: In 426 bc: Hellespontophylakes (Guards of the Hellespont) controlling the passage of grain from Byzantium to the Aegean (IG I3 61 ¼ GHI 65; Ar. Vesp. 235–7; Eupolis fr. 247 K-A; Xen. Hell. 2.2.1–2). In 338 bc: Demosthenes elected (by vote) as sitones (grain controller) in charge of purchasing a supply of public grain (Callisthenes may be the Wrst such oYcer attested, c.357 (Dem. 20.33)). In Athens the oYce was later standardized as a board of 10 (then 12) men. These sitonai became a widespread institution in the Hellenistic world. Note also the crucial (if increasingly cash-strapped) role of Athenian generals and trierarchs in convoying and protecting merchant ships (see [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 24.3 (478); Xen. Hell. 1.1.36 (c.409); Lys. 19.50 (388/7); [Dem.] 50 (362–1); Dem. 8.25 (341); Philoch. FGrHist 328 F162 (340)). III. Legislation also protected emporoi and made it more attractive to bring grain to Athens (also see the numerous proposals in Xen. Vect. 3.3–14). Prospective measures included:


Appendix 4

(a) faster trials: e.g. for the Phaselites in the 460s or 450s (GHI 31), culminating in the fourth-century commercial suits (dikai emporikai) (see [Dem.] 32; 33; 34; 35; 56; [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 59.5, with Ch. 5, pp. 285 ff. above; and Rhodes (1993), 664–5 for full references to the scholarship); (b) tax exemptions: e.g. GHI II 21 for the Sidonians in the Wrst half of the fourth century; (c) land for building temples: GHI II 91 for the Citians in 333, ‘‘just as [before] for the Egyptians’’). Retrospective measures essentially consisted of personal privileges, stopping short of Athenian citizenship, for great benefactors (see e.g. Heracleides of Salamis: GHI II 95 in the 320s). Grants of citizenship were reserved for much bigger players (e.g. the kings of Bosporus: see GHI II 64). IV. To the extent that these laws were meant to regulate and protect a supply of grain available to the entire population of Athens, irrespective of status, they may be taken as evidence of a ‘‘disembedded’’ economy at Athens: cf. Rosivach (2000), 56.


Gazetteer of Grain Sources The generations of students that have attended the Oxford undergraduate lectures on Athenian social and economic history given in succession by G. E. M. de Ste Croix, J. K. Davies, O. Murray, and myself will recognize what follows as a revised version of material in their old handouts. Although the authorship is therefore cumulative and joint, I bear full responsibility for errors and omissions.

I. The Black Sea and Crimea (a) Hdt. 6.5, 26: After the Ionian Revolt, Histiaeus captures merchant ships leaving the Black Sea. (b) Hdt. 7.147: Xerxes in spring 480 sees the grain-ships passing through the Hellespont on their way to Aegina and Peloponnese. (c) 430s: Pericles’ Pontic expedition: after the overthrow of Timesileus of Sinope, 600 Athenians sent there as colonists to take over the property of the tyrant’s faction (Plut. Per. 20). (d) Same time as (c)?: Athenian colonists at Amisus rename it Piraeus (Theop. FGrHist 115 F389 and Amisus/Piraeus owl ¼ HN 2 496). (e) The Athenians found Astacus in the Propontis in 435 (Diod. 12.34, with Meritt’s reading). (f) Thuc. 3.2: the preparations for the revolt of Lesbos in 428 included getting what was to come from Pontus, viz. grain and archers. (g) IG I3 62: (Aphytis decree, 428/7): line 3 has the words 800 medimnoi and line 4 seems to be Athens giving a limit of imports to Aphytis of 10,000 medimnoi, ‘‘and let the price be the same for them as for the Methonaians’’. (h) IG I3 61 ll. 34 V.: decree of 426/5 allowing Methone to import up to ?,000 medimnoi of grain from Byzantium annually and telling the Hellespontophylakes not to impede this traYc. (i) Xen. Hell.1.1.35–6: Agis at Decelea c.409 sees the grain-ships arriving at Piraeus from the Hellespont, and resolves to stop the traYc. Clearchus sent to do this, but frustrated by Athenian navy. (j) Aeschin. 3.171–3 (405): Gylon of Cerameis, Demosthenes’ maternal grandfather, surrenders Nymphaeum to Satyrus of Bosporus.


Appendix 5

(k) Xen. Hell. 2.1.17 (405): Lysander sails to the Hellespont to intercept the merchant ships coming from Pontus. (l) Xen. Hell 2.2.9 (405): Lysander anchors at Piraeus with 150 ships and closes harbour to all merchant ships;. 2.2.21: By summer of 404 huge numbers are dying of hunger in Athens. (m) Xen. Hell. 4.8.25–8 (390/89): Thrasybulus sails to the Hellespont, installs democracies in Byzantium and Chalcedon, and levies dekate on ships exiting the Pontus at Chrysopolis (cf. Xen. Hell. 1.1.22 (410)). (n) Xen. Hell. 5.1.18 V. (Teleutias’ raid) and 5.1.28–9 (Antalcidas’ stranglehold on Hellespont and Piraeus leads to King’s Peace) (387); Lys. 22.14: Merchant ships from the Black Sea intercepted on their way to Athens. (o) Xen. Hell. 5.4.60–1 and Diod. 15.34: In 377/6 Athenian ships cannot go further than Geraestus, but convoy under Chabrias makes it through, and Spartan blockade has to be lifted thanks to victory at battle of Naxos. (p) [Dem.] 50.4–6: In late summer 362, sequestration of grain-Xeet by Byzantium, Chalcedon, Cyzicus. (q) [Dem.] 50.17–19: In late summer 361, sequestration again by Byzantium and Chalcedon. (r) Dem 20.33: General sitodeia relieved in Athens by Leukon’s generosity c.357. (s) Dem. 4.34: Philip captures Athenian merchant ships rounding Geraestus (before 351). (t) Tod II 163 (c.350): Leucon grants Mytilene export privileges (text implies that polis imported at least 100,000 medimnoi) (see (f) above). (u) IG II2 212 ¼ GHI II 64 (346): Androtion’s decree honouring the Bosporan kings Spartocus and Paerisades, and their brother Apollonius. (v) Dem. 18.87 (341): ‘‘. . . observing that we consume more imported grain than any other nation, he [Philip] proposed to get control of the shipping trade in grain. He advanced towards Thrace . . .’’ (see also 18.241, 301–2; see also Xen. Hell. 6.1.11 (375)). (w) Didymus Demosthenes cols. 10.34–11.5 (340): Philip commits his ‘‘most lawless act’’ by seizing the grain-merchants’ ships at Hieron, 230 in number according to Philochorus (FGrHist 328 F162), 180 according to Theopompus (FGrHist 115 F292), from which he gathered 700 talents. Athens goes to war against Philip as a result; see Moreno (forthcoming b). (x) [Dem.] 17.20: In late 330s, Macedonians forced all the grain-ships from the pontus to put in at Tenedos, forcing Athens to man a 100-ship Xeet.

Appendix 5


II. The Aegean Littoral and Islands (a) Sigeion: Captured by Phrynon, c.600; later regained by Peisistratos (Hdt. 5.94) and inherited by Hippias in exile (see Andrewes (1982a), 373–4). (b) Salamis: Plut. Sol. 8–10; GHI 14; French (1957). (c) Thracian Chersonesus: Taken over by the elder Miltiades (Hdt. 6.34–8) in or by the late 540s. The younger Miltiades continues to control this after his archonship in 524/3, marrying Hegesipyle, daughter of the Thracian king Olorus (Hdt. 6.39). Ch. remains an Athenian aristocratic stronghold, invaded by Cimon (Plut. Cim. 14.1; cf. Andoc. 3.3) settled by Pericles (Plut. Per. 11, 19), held by Alcibiades (Plut. Alc. 36; Xen. Hell. 1.5.17, 2.1.25; cf. Diod. 13.105.3). See Lys. 32.6, 12 (before 409): Diodotus had ‘‘2,000 dr. invested in the Ch. . . . grain came in to them every year from the Ch.’’ (cf. Ar. Eq. 261–5 with schol.: Cleon/Paphlagon after rich and ‘‘apolitical’’ (apragmones) citizens from Ch.). Lost after 405, Sestos and Crithote (‘‘Barleytown’’) are taken by Timotheus in 365/4 (Isoc. 15.108, 112); after becoming a condominium of Athens and the Thracian kings (GHI II 47), the entire peninsula except Cardia is ceded to Athens by Cersobleptes in 353 (Diod. 16.34); the Athenians correspond by giving Cersobleptes Athenian citizenship (see [Dem.] 12.8–10). For its importance see Dem. 23.110 (352): ‘‘Indeed when that country is not at war, its revenue is no more than 30 talents, and when it is at war, not a single talent. On the other hand, the revenue of its ports . . . is more than 200 talents.’’ (d) Lemnos: Captured by the younger Miltiades c.499, Athenians settled on it (Hdt. 6.136, 140). Diod. 16.21 (356/5): ‘‘The Chians, Rhodians and Byzantines together with their allies manned 100 ships and then sacked Imbros and Lemnos, Athenian islands . . .’’; Dem. 4.32 (351): suggests using Lemnos, Thasos, Skiathos, which have been attacked by Philip (4.34), as winter bases for a Xeet since they have harbours and grain and all the other requirements for a force. (e) Imbros: Captured at around the same time as Lemnos by Miltiades (Hdt. 6.41, 104). (f) Scyros: Captured, inhabitants expelled, Athenian cleruchy installed in 476/5 (Thuc. 1.98; Plut. Thes. 36.1–2: Plut. Cim. 8.3–6). Lost after 405, all three cleruchy islands recovered by 393, see Andoc. 3.14–15. (g) Euboea: Thuc. 2.14: Athenian livestock sent to E. at the outbreak of war; 2.26: 30 Athenian ships sent to ravage Locris and protect E. in 431; 2.32: (also Diod. 12.44) Atalante fortiWed and made into a guard-station


Appendix 5

(phrourion) to protect E. in 431 (cf. 3.89: station and one of two beached ships destroyed by earthquake in 426); 3.17: Athenian Xeet at its height has 100 ships guarding Attica, E., and Salamis (cf. 8.74, 86, 95: 36 ships in 411); 3.92–3: Spartans colonize Heracleia Trachinia to threaten E.; 7.28: Decelea made importing supplies from E. much more diYcult; 8.1: Special concern for E. after Syracusan disaster; 8.95: Cut oV from Attica as the Athenians were, Euboea was everything to them; refugees go to Athenian forts; 8.96: Revolt of E. in 411 was even more shattering than the news of the Sicilian disaster; Athens was supported by E. even more than by Attica (¼ [Arist.] Ath. Pol. 33.1). Other key references: Hdt. 5.77 (506 bc), 6.100–102 (490 bc); Diod. 11.88.3; Paus. 1.27.5 (c.453 bc); Thuc. 1.114; Plut. Per. 7.6, 23.2; Ar. Nub. 210–13 with scholiast (446 bc); IG I3 40, 41 (c.446/5); Ar. Vesp. 715, with scholiast; Philoch. FGrHist 328 F119 (424 bc); Andoc. 3.9 (‘‘we controlled the Chersonese, Naxos, and two thirds of E.’’: 421 bc, also Aeschin. 2.175); Dem. 20.115 (‘‘Lysimachus [son of Aristides], one of the wealthy men of that time, received a hundred plethra of orchard in E. and a hundred of arable land, besides a hundred minas of silver and a pension of four drachmas a day. And the decree in which these gifts are recorded stands in the name of Alcibiades. For our city was rich in lands and money . . .’’); IG I3 422, 424, 426, 428, 430 (Attic Stelae in Pritchett (1953)): see index locorum (414 bc); Lys. 34.3 (epigamia before 413); Ar. Pax 1125–6; Isoc. 4.107–9; Dem. 19.326; 18.87; Plut. Dem. 17 (343–1). (h) Oropus: Invaluable for Athenian control of Euboea: see now Cosmopoulos (2001).

III. Egypt/Cyprus/Phoenicia/Cyrene (a) Diod. 1.29.1: At a time of famine King Erechtheus brought grain from Egypt to Athens. Presumably Atthidographic extrapolation. (b) Bacchylides F20 B Snell–Maehler ap. Ath. 2.39e–f: grain-carrying ships bring great wealth from Egypt. On this fragment see Merkelbach (1973). (c) Aesch. Suppl. 554 V. talks about Cyprus as ‘‘rich in wheat’’—but this does not entail imports to Athens. (d) Philoch. FGrHist 328 F119 and Plut. Per. 37: in 445/4 Psammetichos gave 30,000 med. (Plutarch says 40,000 med.) of wheat to Athens for distribution. (e) Thuc. 2.69: In winter 430/29 Athenian general sent to protect merchant ships from Phaselis and Phoenicia against Peloponnesian privateers.

Appendix 5



(h) (i)


(k) (l)


(n) (o)


This route was open during winter months: [Dem.] 56.30 (see also the recently published Persian document from an Egyptian port (Magdolos, Daphnae, or Memphis) showing 42 ships (36 of them Ionian Greek) paying harbour dues between Feb. and Dec. 475: Porten and Yardeni (1993); Gras (1995), 161–3. Thuc. 4.53: In summer 424 the Athenian capture of Cythera damaged the Spartans, because it was the landfall for the merchant ships coming from Egypt and Libya. Thuc. 8.35: In winter 412/11 the Spartans attempt to intercept the merchant ships coming past Cnidus from Egypt, but an Athenian sortie from Samos prevents this. It is not stated what the ships were carrying, but grain is a priori the most likely cargo. IG I3 113 [Dem.] 12.10 (410): Athens confers citizenship on Evagoras of Cyprus. Andoc. 2.20: Obscure reference by Andoc. c.409/8 to the stratagem by which he stopped a plot to prevent the grain in Cyprus from being sent to Athens. He claims that a convoy of 14 ships is about to arrive at Piraeus from Cyprus, with more on the way. Diod. 14.79.4: in 396 Nephereus of Egypt gives the Spartans 500,000 medimnoi of grain. The Spartan Xeet brings the grain to Caria, and then to Rhodes, where it is captured by Conon. GHI II 11: In 393 Athens honours Evagoras of Cyprus. GHI II 21 (probably 378–76): Cephisodotus moves to honour Strato the king of Sidon and exempt Sidonian merchants from taxation. C. is the same man recorded in Arist. Rhet. 1411a9 as urging the Athenians ‘‘to set out for Euboea without delay, ‘and provision (episitisomenous) themselves there, like the decree of Miltiades’’’. Lycurg. 1.18–19: As a result of Leocrates’ Xight to Rhodes in panic after Chaeronea in 338 the Rhodians ‘‘brought in’’ the merchant ships and cargoes were unloaded at Rhodes instead of Athens. The ships were presumably coming from the Levant or Egypt: again grain is the most likely cargo. IG II2 283: Ph[—–] of Cypriot Salamis honoured in Athens before 336/5; the citation has the words ‘‘he brought grain from Egypt’’. GHI II 91 (333): Lycurgus moves granting Citian merchants right to build temple to Aphrodite, ‘‘just as also by the Egyptians the temple of Isis has been built’’.


Appendix 5

(p) GHI II 96: (c.330–c.326) Gifts of grain from Cyrene to the Greek states during the grain shortage of early 320s; out of a total of 805,000 medimnoi distributed, Athens receives 100,000 medimnoi. (q) IG II2 407: A man from Miletus? honoured in 320s for help in grain shipment from Cyprus. (r) [Dem.] 56: see Ch. 5, p. 291 above.

IV. Sicily and Southern Italy (a) Hdt. 7.158: Gelon in 481 promising to provide grain for the whole Greek army. (b) [Plut.] X orat. 835d (444): Pericles sends colony to Thurii. (c) Thuc. 3.86.3 Claims that Athenian readiness to help Leontini in late 427 was actually motivated by a wish to stop grain being exported thence to Peloponnese. (d) [Dem.] 32 (354–c.340), Against Zenothemis, on wrongful ejectment from a cargo of Sicilian grain; see Ch. 5, p. 288 above. (e) Hesperia 43 (1974), pp. 322–4 (c.331–324?): Lycurgus moves to honour Sopatros of Acragas (and his descendants) as proxenos and euergetes for bringing grain to Athens. (f) [Dem.] 56.9: The price of grain in Athens was high in later summer 323, but the ships from Sicily arrived and prices dropped. (g) IG II2 408 (320s): Praises two men of Heracleia for selling 1,000 medimnoi of Sicilian wheat at 9 dr. and x? medimnoi of barley at 5 dr.

V. The Po Valley (a) Lysias 32.25 (before 409): Diogeiton dispatches to the Adriatic a cargo worth two talents. (b) GHI II 100 (325/4): Records an earlier decision to establish a colony on the Adriatic coast, ‘‘In order that the people may for all future time have their own commerce and transport in grain, and that the establishment of their own naval station (naustathmos) may result in a guard against the Tyrrhenians, and Miltiades the founder and the settlers may be able to use their own Xeet, and those Greeks and barbarians who sail the sea and themselves sailing into the Athenians’ naval station will have their ships and all else secure . . .’’ (Rhodes and Osborne trans.).

Appendix 5


(c) Hyperides wrote a speech ‘‘On the outpost against the Etruscans’’ (frs. 166–7 Jensen), and Dinarchus wrote a Tyrrhenikos (fr. I12 Blass). One or both of these may be connected with (b). (d) The cemetery at Spina in the Po delta has yielded more high-grade Attic red-Wgure pottery than any other known site—1,022 vases in ARV. See Boardman (1999), 228–9, who suggests Athenian settlement from the late Wfth century.

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Index Locorum

I. LITERARY TEXTS Aelian Varia Historia 6.1: 99 6.13: 174 Aeneas Tacticus Poliorcetica 5.2: 178 Aeschylus Choephoroe 661: 242 Persae 238: v Septem contra Thebas 545: 226 Supplices 554 ff.: 340 Aeschines 2.31 ff.: 255 2.78–9: 254 2.172–6: 87 2.175: 87, 340 2.180: 254 3.66: 255, 3.171–3: 167, 177, 222, 254, 337 3.171–2: 166, 174 3.171: 254, 255 3.172: 254 3.209: 225 3.222: 28

Anacharsidis Epistolae 9 Hercher: 197 Andocides 1.4: 248, 254 1.12–13: 89 1.106: 247 1.110: 245 1.133: 107 1.133–4: 256 1.133–6: 248, 293 1.134: 247 1.137: 245 1.137–9: 247 1.144–5: 247 1.145: 247, 248, 251, 254 2.11: 221, 246, 254 2.12: 247 2.13: 248 2.13–14: 247 2.15: 247 2.19: 249 2.20: 341 2.20–1: 248, 292 2.21: 249 2.23: 248 2.26: 247 3.3: 339 3.3–12: 87 3.5: 87 3.9: 87, 340 3.14–15: 339

374 Antiphon A 1–2 Blass: 249, 273 Antiphanes Homonymoi fr. 177 K-A: 67 Aristophanes Acharnenses 32–6: 74 189–200: 74 331–351: 49 331: 74 406: 74 548: 122  548a: 122 623–5: 74 723–4: 334 968: 334 Aves 768: 230  822: 298 911: 266 1292–3: 229 Ecclesiazusae 49–50: 227  102: 256 135–43: 228 153–5: 228 183–8: 256 1027: 286 1131–3: 28 Equites 261–5: 92, 339  261–5: 92, 339 580: 266 716–18: 234 719–20: 235 741: 301 773–6: 92 801 ff.: 231

Index Locorum 813–18: 301 864 ff.: 231 893–8: 236 923–6: 92 1054–6: 229 1100–9: 235 1121: 266 1211–28: 234 1358–63: 236 Horai fr. 581 K-A: 67, 75 Lysistrata 426–7: 229 463–6: 229 Nubes 202–5: 96 210–13: 340  210–13: 340 211–13: 96  213.: 97  213a: 102, 129 545: 266, 267  552: 285 Pax 447–9: 230 1046–7: 91 1125–6: 91, 340 1205–6: 233 1208–9: 230 1210–64: 231 1224–6: 231 1240–1: 231 1251: 231 Plutus 435–6: 229 572: 266 904: 286 1063–5: 229 1120–3: 231 1155–7: 231 1164: 231

Index Locorum Thesmophoriazusae 347–50: 228 737–8: 227 Vespae 235–7: 166, 335 466: 266 491 ff.: 31 548–75: 268 698–702: 235 700–18: 164 707–12: 301 715–21: 97 715–18: 24, 25, 100, 114 715: 340  715: 340  718: 100, 300 975–83: 268 1267: 266 1317: 267 Fragmenta fr. 904 Kock: 286 Archestratus fr. 62 Ribbeck: 67 Aristotle Ethica Eudemia 1215a30: 240 Ethica Nicomachea 1137b11–1138a4: 218 Historia animalium 553a22–3: 66 553b23: 66 576b.28–577a.1: 19 612b23: 230 Meteorologica 360b: 12 360b4–12: 12, 27 Politica 1252a1–8: 240 1252b: 18

1256a11–14: 239 1256b27–40: 239 1257b1–5: 240 1258a16–17: 240 1258a19–21: 239 1258b9–37: 240 1259a33–7: 240 1262b37–1264a1: 241 1263a23: 242 1263b35–40: 242 1275a9–14: 286 1289b35–40: 80 1291b9: 242 1292a: 217 1294b10: 257 1313a34–1314a29: 306 1313b38: 306 Rhetorica 1354a–b: 217 1354a11–31: 212 1356a1–b11: 212 1356a13: 212 1359b19 ff.: 240 1359b19–23: 251, 260 1359b21–3: 334 1360a12–17: 251, 260, 334 1367a28–32: 266 1375a22–5: 218 1375a25–b15: 218 1375b16–25: 218 1377b28–31: 212 1395a18: 318 1411a9: 341 1417a16–b10: 212 1419a20–b2: 215 Fragmenta F611.35 Rose: 317 [Aristotle] Athenaion Politeia 7.4: 95


376 9.2: 217 10.2: 325 16.4: 73 16.6: 53 24.3: 335 26: 98 26.4: 300 27.3: 301 27.4: 301 32.1–33.1: 121 33.1: 340 35.2: 217 41.3: 256 43.4: 3, 260, 334 43.5: 287 51: 214 51.1: 334 51.2: 334 51.4: 49, 122, 335 53: 98 53.3: 335 55.3: 102 58.2: 287 59.5: 285, 336 62.3: 59 Oeconomica 1343a26–b2: 240 1347a18–24: 95 1347b3–15: 176 1351a18–23: 188 1352a17–1352b26: 291 Arrian Anabasis 7.6.1: 28 7.23.6–8: 291 Athenaeus Deipnosophistae 1.27d–28d: 67 1.28d: 68

Index Locorum 1.33e: 67 2.39e–f: 323, 340 2.43b–c: 67 3.74d–e: 67 3.85a: 66 3.101d: 67 4.137e: 24 4.160b: 82 6.272b–c: 32 6.272c: 28 7.285d: 31 8.349d: 192 9.372b–d: 67, 75 10.432c: 67 13.582f: 67 13.592e: 268 14.640b–c: 75 15.681f: 68 15.689c: 68 Bacchylides 18.36 Snell-Maehler: 242 fr. 20B Snell-Maehler: 323, 340 Cicero De senectute 15.53–4: 22 In Verrem 2.3.112: 26 Orator ad M. Brutum 111: 252 Columella De re rustica 2.9.1: 26 3.3.4: 26 Craterus (FGrHist 342) F8: 166 F21: 318

Index Locorum Ctesicles (FGrHist 245) F1: 28 Demosthenes 3.4: 28 4.32: 339 4.34: 338, 339 8.25: 335 8.36: 135 14.16: 107 18.41 18.51–2: 255 18.71: 135 18.73: 208 18.87: 116, 338, 340 18.112: 225 18.113: 225 18.118: 225 18.241: 116, 338 18.301–2: 338 18.301: 116 19.114: 220, 221, 224 19.123: 116 19.144 19.145: 220, 221, 224 19.184: 222 19.219: 135 19.326: 135, 340 20: 176 20.2: 255 20.17: 262 20.29–35: 253 20.29: 255 20.31–2: 110 20.31: 32, 189, 206, 303, 315 20.32: 32, 189, 207, 253, 334, 335 20.33: 32, 176, 244, 253, 335  20.33: 176 20.35: 304 20.41: 253 20.43: 262

20.52: 262 20.80: 262 20.83: 253 20.95: 253 20.107: 262 20.107–8: 255 20.153: 253 20.115: 90, 340 20.122: 262 20.141: 262 20.142: 262 21: 247 21.1: 271 21.5: 271 21.16: 271 21.17: 271 21.25–6: 272 21.28: 272 21.51: 271 21.67: 271 21.78–9: 272 21.96: 271 21.99: 268 21.109: 271 21.111–12: 271 21.111: 247 21.123–5: 271 21.138: 271 21.139: 270 21.143: 271 21.151: 225, 271 21.154: 225 21.156–9: 225 21.163: 281, 291 21.165–7: 249 21.166–7: 280 21.167: 84 21.174: 271 21.175–6: 286, 288 21.183: 271 21.186: 268


378 21.195: 271 21.200: 281 21.203–4: 271 21.206: 271 21.209: 271 21.110: 281 21.111–12: 271 21.163: 281 21.215: 271 21.224: 272 22: 272 22.4: 272, 297 22.5–7: 272, 273 22.8: 273 22.11: 272 22.12–16: 273 22.15: 273 22.19: 273 22.21–4: 273 22.23: 273 22.31–2: 273 22.33–4: 273 22.37: 272, 297 22.42: 249, 273 22.44: 274 22.47: 274, 297 22.51: 274 22.51–2: 274 22.53–5: 274 22.58: 274 22.60–1: 274 22.63: 274 22.65: 274 22.66: 269 22.70: 275 22.73–5: 275 22.76–8: 275 23.110: 339 23.129: 255 23.155: 116 23.177: 249

Index Locorum 23.185: 270 23.196: 270 23.201: 269, 270 23.202: 270 23.203: 270 23.208: 270 24: 253, 275 24.2: 276 24.3: 275 24.5: 275 24.12: 275 24.11–16: 275 24.17 ff.: 275 24.26–32: 276, 293 24.34–67 24.68–107 24.90: 277 24.98: 275 24.99: 276 24.108–9 24.120: 277 24.128: 277 24.134: 107, 257, 277 24.135: 278 24.136: 278 24.137: 278 24.138: 278 24.139: 276 24.148: 276 24.149: 59 24.152: 276 24.154: 276 24.160: 249, 269 24.169: 277 24.171: 277 24.173: 269 24.198: 249 27.10: 221 27.11: 224, 254 27.32: 221 28: 254

Index Locorum 29.36: 224, 254 42.3: 271 42.11: 271 42.20: 271 42.24: 271 42.31: 271 53.29: 268 55: 69 55.16: 55 55.24: 24 57.9–10: 50 58.40: 222 58.44: 222 59.27: 104 [Demosthenes] 7.2–4: 305 7.10: 305 7.28–9: 305 7.28: 305 7.39–44: 305 12.8–10: 305, 339 12.8: 304 12.8–10: 339 12.10: 341 17.20: 338 25.42: 222 25.46: 231, 232 25.51: 28 32: 285, 286, 288–9, 336, 342 32.1: 285 32.2: 288 32.4–7: 289 32.4: 292 32.5–7: 292 32.7: 292 32.8–9: 292 32.10: 293 32.12: 288, 293 32.14–15: 289 32.14: 288

32.16: 292 32.18: 289 32.24–30: 293 32.25: 289 32.29: 286, 289 32.31–2: 288 33: 285, 286, 289, 336 33.1: 285, 286 33.4: 289 33.5: 289 33.6–12: 289 33.6: 289 33.7: 289 33.11–13: 289 33.12: 289, 293 33.13: 285, 289 33.16–18: 293 33.20: 289 33.22: 293 33.23: 286 33.26: 286 34: 285, 286, 290, 336 34.1: 290 34.5: 288, 290 34.6: 282, 290 34.8: 191, 303 34.9: 290 34.10: 288, 290 34.16–20: 293 34.28–32: 282 34.28: 293 34.32: 290 34.33: 290 34.34: 293 34.36–7: 290 34.36: 191, 303, 304 34.37: 122, 290, 291, 304, 334 34.38–9: 294 34.38: 290, 294 34.39: 221, 290, 294 34.40: 290



Index Locorum

34.42: 285 34.46: 293 34.50–2: 290 34.51: 294 34.52: 293 35: 177, 285, 286, 290–1, 336 35.1: 295 35.2: 295 35.10–14: 282 35.15: 290, 295 35.22: 295 35.28: 295 35.32: 188 35.39: 295 35.40–3: 290 35.40–2: 295 35.40: 295 35.41: 295 35.42: 295 35.43: 295, 297 35.45: 295 35.47: 295 35.49: 290 35.50–1: 291, 334 35.50: 295, 297 35.56: 295 42.20: 24 43.54: 95 49.5: 283 49.6–8: 282 49.7: 278 49.10: 279 49.12: 283 49.14–17: 278 49.14: 278, 282 49.22–3: 279 49.22: 255, 283 49.26: 255, 281 49.29: 283 49.30: 281 49.32: 283 49.34–6: 282

49.35: 281 49.39: 282 49.42: 283 49.68: 283, 295 50: 335 50.4–6: 338 50.17–19: 338 50.56: 283 50.61: 283 56: 285, 291, 336, 342 56.7: 231, 281, 291 56.7–8: 297 56.9: 342 56.10: 291 56.15: 282 56.17: 291 56.30: 341 56.48–50: 294 59: 287 59.27: 280, 335 59.52: 287 59.64–70: 287 Didymus In Demosthenem 10.34–11.5: 207, 338 Dinarchus 1.36: 224 1.43: 33, 220, 245, 254, 255, 270 1.70: 222 Fragmenta I12 Blass: 343 Dio Chrysostom Borysthenitica (Or. 36) 7: 147 8: 147 9: 147 14: 147 17: 147

Index Locorum Diodorus Siculus Bibliotheca historica 1.29.1: 340 11.88: 96 11.88.3: 340 12.22: 97 12.31: 155, 165 12.34: 337 12.34.4–5: 143 12.44: 128, 339 12.61–3: 128 12.61.1: 130 13.47.3: 83 13.64.5–7: 128 13.76.3–4: 128 13.76.4: 130 13.105.3: 339 14.79.4: 323, 341 15.26.2: 28 15.29.7: 28 15.34: 338 15.34.5: 28 15.63.2: 28 15.84.2: 28 16.21: 339 16.34: 339 16.37.3: 28 18.10–11: 28 18.10.2: 28 18.11.3: 28 18.18.5: 28 20.22.3: 178 20.22.4: 178 20.24.3: 190 20.24.4: 190, 191 20.25.2: 179 20.25.4: 202 Dionysius Halicarnassensis Ad Ammaeum 4: 252

De Isocrate 1: 296 De Lysia 32: 24 Duris (FGrHist 76) F96: 318 Ephorus (FGrHist 70) F42: 195 F119: 83 Eubulus fr. 18 K-A: 68 fr. 74 K-A: 75 Eupolis Demoi fr. 99.1–22 K-A: 235 fr. 135 K-A: 298 Marikas fr. 192 K-A: 285 Poleis fr. 247 K-A: 166, 335 Euripides Hippolytus 950–4: 226 Fragmenta (TrGF) II fr. 21: 242 Gorgias 82 B 20 DK: 301 Harpocration Lexicon in decem oratores Atticos s.v. ¨ı  Æ : 174 s.v. 0ºº: 53 Heraclides (FHG II) 216: 317


382 Hermippus Phormophoroi fr. 63 K-A: 67, 75 fr. 63.8 K-A: 230 Herodotus Historiae 1.59: 73 1.64: 73 1.82.8: 266 1.94: 226 1.155: 226 2.35: 226 2.39: 242 2.91: 148 2.141: 226 2.164: 226 3.89: 226, 233 3.139: 320 4.17–18: 163 4.17: 149, 162 4.18: 162 4.28: 152, 160 4.40: 154 4.46: 148 4.75: 197 4.76–7: 148 4.76: 148 4.77: 148 4.78–80: 148 4.78–9: 153 4.78: 153 4.78.3: 155 4.80: 168 4.108: 149 4.109: 149 5.9: 226 5.31: 80, 141 5.71: 267 5.77: 80, 116, 137, 340 5.94: 339 5.97.2: 28

Index Locorum 6.5: 161, 337 6.26: 161, 337 6.34–41: 305 6.34–8: 339 6.36–7: 316 6.39: 254, 339 6.41: 339 6.57: 32 6.100–102: 340 6.100–101: 93, 94 6.100: 94, 137 6.104: 339 6.132: 141 6.135–6: 142 6.136: 339 6.139–40: 141, 305 6.140: 339 7.147: 161, 337 7.158: 320, 342 7.187: 32 7.209.3: 266 Hesiod Opera et dies 383 ff.: 19 462: 19 464: 19 485 ff.: 21 Theogonia 971: 19 Hipponax fr. 79.18 West: 226 Homer Iliad 2.11: 266 10.351 ff.: 19 13.702 ff.: 19 18.541 ff: 19 18.542: 19

Index Locorum Odyssey 2.319: 242 5.127: 19 24.300: 242 Hymni Homerici In Cererem 309: 24 452: 24 Hyperides In Demosthenem fr. IV col. 17: 224 Pro Euxenippo col. 32: 268 Pro Lycophrone fr. IVb cols. 13–15: 109 Fragmenta fr. 29 Jensen: 29 frs. 166–7 Jensen: 343 Isaeus 11.43: 24 Isocrates 2: 296 2.1: 237 2.35: 203 3: 296 3.24–6: 203 3.37: 203 4.42: 75 4.107–9: 77, 315, 340 4.107: 95 5.5–6: 296 7.23: 296 7.49: 237 8: 252 9: 296 12.98: 317 15.30: 290, 296

15.108: 339 15.112: 296, 339 15.159–60: 258 15.224: 175, 177, 290, 295 15.287: 237 17: 175, 177, 303 17.3: 187 17.4: 175, 180, 188, 256 17.5: 189 17.11: 188, 256 17.19–20: 179 17.31–2: 175 17.31: 256 17.32: 256 17.42: 222 17.52: 179 17.56: 188 17.57: 175, 189, 206, 304 Lucian Anacharsis 1–40: 197 Toxaris 7: 199 Lycurgus 1.17: 225 1.18–19: 341 1.27: 291, 335 Lysias 1.24: 237 6.6: 245 6.6–7: 246 6.26–7: 246 6.28: 246 6.49: 246 13.11: 310 14.43–4: 223, 246 16: 177, 303 16.4: 175, 268


384 16.18–19: 267 17.5: 286 19: 255 19.50: 335 20.6: 117 20.14: 123 20.17: 123 22: 214, 222, 232, 259, 292, 299 22.5–6: 335 22.5: 215 22.7: 216 22.8–9: 215, 220 22.8: 335 22.11: 218, 241 22.12: 218, 219, 335 22.13: 219, 233, 246 22.14: 219, 338 22.15: 219 22.16: 219 22.17: 220 22.20: 219 22.21–2: 292 22.21: 220, 225, 244 22.22: 220, 236 27: 222 27.1: 222, 236 27.5: 255 28: 222 29: 222 32.4: 92, 224 32.6: 92, 224, 339 32.6–7: 285 32.8: 224 32.12: 339 32.14–5: 224 32.15: 92 32.24: 92

Index Locorum 32.25: 92, 224 34.3: 100, 340 Memnon (FGrHist 434) F1: 204 Menander Epitrepontes 1088: 28 Pausanias Graeciae descriptio 1.1.5: 71 1.6.3: 291 1.27.5: 96, 340 1.28.2: 80, 142 1.31.1: 70 1.38.6: 24 Periplus Ponti Euxini 51 Mu¨ller: 168 Petronius Satyrica 38.3: 67 [Philip II] Epistolae 2.8: 304 2.8–10: 305 Philochorus (FGrHist 328) F118: 97 F119: 28, 236, 300, 323, 340 F130: 100 F162: 116, 207, 335, 338 Pindar Olympia  9.150: 24

Index Locorum Plato Apologia Socratis 34d: 268 35b: 268 Cratylus 417b–c: 239 Critias 111b5: 12 111c: 53 Euthyphro 4c: 92 Gorgias 472a: 301 517d–e: 238 518b: 238 Laches 191a–c: 204 Leges 740b–c: 107 742c: 239 831c–e: 239 842c–d: 239 842d: 227, 239 847d: 239 849c–d: 239 850a: 239 915e: 239 918a8–b6: 298 918d ff.: 239 919c–920c: 239 919c: 239 920b: 239 920c: 239 920c3: 242 Politicus 260c–d: 238 289e–290a: 239 294a10–295a7: 217 Protagoras 313c: 238

313d: 238 314a: 238 Respublica 371a–d: 238 578e: 112 Sophista 223b: 238 223c–d: 238 224e: 238 231d: 238 Symposium 175e: 28 [Plato] Alcibiades I 123c: 111 Axiochus 369a: 28 Pliny Naturalis Historia 18.70: 82 21.57: 68 Plutarch Alcibiades 10–11: 301 36: 339 Aristides 26.1: 163 27.2: 90 Cimon 8: 142 8.3–6: 339 8.6: 306 9–10: 301 14.1: 339 Demosthenes 5: 257 17: 340 27.6 ff.: 288 28.3: 290



Index Locorum

Demosthenis et Ciceronis Comparatio 3.5–6: 284 3.6: 225 Lycurgus 8: 320 Nicias 3: 301 Pericles 7.6: 97, 340 9.2: 301 11: 93, 95, 142, 339 11.4–5: 301 19: 316, 339 19.1–2: 143 20: 337 20.1–2: 164 23: 80 23.2: 340 37: 323, 340 37.3–4: 300 37.4: 236 Phocion 28.7: 28 Solon 8: 70 8–10: 339 22: 11 23.3: 105 23.5: 45 23.6: 313 24.1: 313, 334 24.2: 313 Theseus 36.1–2: 339 De tranquillitate animi 470e10–470f6: 68 [Plutarch] Vitae decem oratorum 835d: 342 836e.1–839d.10: 296

837d: 296 837e: 296 838a: 296 838e: 296 843d: 28 844c: 176 847f: 254 851b: 225, 294 Pollux Onomasticon 1.227: 53 8.129.6–131.1: 105 Polyaenus Strategemata 5.23: 176 5.44: 176, 192 6.9.2: 178, 179 6.9.3: 176, 178, 179, 187 6.9.4: 176, 178 7.32: 188 8.55: 174, 176 Polybius Historiae 2.62.6: 28 4.38: 87 6.42.2–3: 130 6.45.3: 320 Solon Fragmenta fr. 37.9–10 West: 313 F60a Ruschenbusch (Gaius, in Dig. 10.1.13): 313 F60b Ruschenbusch, see Plut. Sol. 23.6 F63 Ruschenbusch, see Plut, Sol. 23.6 F65 Ruschenbusch, see Plut Sol. 24.1

Index Locorum Strabo Geographica 1.3.20: 131 6.2.7: 26 7.3.7: 201 7.3.9: 195 7.4.4: 171, 176, 187, 255 7.4.6: 186, 187, 207 9.1.8: 11 9.1.21: 49 9.1.23: 67 9.2.2: 83 9.2.6: 91 10.1.5: 82 10.1.7: 133 10.1.14: 83 11.2.10: 180 14.1.18: 317

Theopompus (FGrHist 115) F45: 196 F89: 301 F292: 116, 207, 338 F387: 97 F389–90: 143 F389: 337

Theophrastus Characteres 21.14: 67 23.1–4: 284 23.1: 224, 225 23.2: 224 23.3–4: 224 23.5: 224, 225 De causis plantarum 3.9.4–5: 23 3.20.6–8: 20 3.20.6–7: 19 3.20.7: 15, 16 4.11.3: 22 Historia plantarum 2.7.4: 23 5.2.1: 84 6.2.3: 68 6.7.2: 68 8.4.4: 22, 82 8.5.1: 15 8.8.2: 24

Thucydides Historiae 1.2: 11 1.3: 266 1.4: 98, 142 1.6.4: 266 1.8: 142 1.98: 142, 339 1.114: 80, 97, 340 1.115: 165 1.143.5: 299 2.14–16: 24 2.14: 18, 116, 135, 339 2.21: 37 2.23: 117 2.26: 128, 135, 339 2.32: 127, 128, 134, 339 2.36.3: 306 2.38: 75 2.55: 37 2.69: 340 2.93–4: 127, 129

8.9.1: 8, 17, 327 9.9.3: 66 9.11.1: 66 9.11.3: 66 9.13.2: 66 9.13.3: 66 9.16.5: 66 9.19.3: 66 9.20.3: 66 9.20.4: 66


388 2.94: 129 3.2: 166, 337 3.17: 135, 340 3.33: 133 3.36: 318 3.50: 95, 110 3.51: 116, 128, 129 3.68: 117 3.86.3: 342 3.89: 131, 134, 340 3.92–3: 340 3.92: 136 3.93: 136 4.2–6: 128 4.3: 130 4.4: 130 4.8–23: 128 4.9: 131 4.16: 32 4.26–41: 128 4.28: 103 4.53: 341 4.54: 127 4.67: 128 4.108: 116 4.118: 128 5.14: 127 5.18: 127 5.18.5: 101 5.84: 142, 317 5.116: 142, 317 6.1–5: 143 6.16.1–2: 301 6.54.5: 73 7.19: 122 7.25.5: 18 7.26: 127 7.27: 116, 125, 129 7.28: 117, 118, 340 7.57: 98, 127 8: 121

Index Locorum 8.1: 136, 340 8.4: 118, 127 8.5: 122 8.35: 341 8.38: 128 8.40: 125, 128, 129, 131 8.55: 128 8.60: 117, 118, 122 8.74: 135, 340 8.86: 135, 340 8.86.3: 342 8.90: 122, 335 8.91–2: 123 8.91: 123, 124 8.92: 123, 124 8.94: 124 8.95: 95, 118, 125, 135, 136, 340 8.96: 80, 126, 340 8.97: 126 Xenophon Anabasis 1.2.24: 237 7.5.12: 191 7.5.14: 191 Cyropaedia 4.5.42: 237 De republica Lacedaemoniorum 11.3: 266 13.8: 266 De vectigalibus 3.3–14: 335 4.14–15: 69 4.43–8: 125 Hellenica 1.1.22: 167, 338 1.1.27: 121 1.1.35–6: 337 1.1.35: 175 1.1.36: 335

Index Locorum 1.2.1: 121 1.5.15: 128 1.5.17: 339 2.1.17: 338 2.1.25: 339 2.2: 310 2.2.1–2: 166, 335 2.2.1: 175, 177 2.2.9: 338 2.2.21: 338 2.3.45: 122 4.2.17: 28 4.8.25–8: 338 4.8.26: 302 4.43–8: 125 5.1.18 ff.: 338 5.1.21–4: 124 5.1.28–9: 338 5.4.60–1: 338 5.4.61: 28 6.1.11: 338 Memorabilia 2.8.1: 93 3.6.1: 250, 334 3.6.2: 250 3.6.13: 250, 260 3.6.18: 250 3.7.5–8: 250 3.14: 18 Oeconomicus 5.3: 18

15.10–11 16.1–2 16.10–15: 20 16.12–13: 21, 22 17.1–2: 21 17.3: 21 17.10, 22 18.2: 23 19.1: 24 20.10–11: 22 Symposium 4.30–2: 92 8.25: 327 [Xenophon] Atheniensium respublica 1.10: 267 2: 142 2.2: 127 2.3: 127, 167 2.4: 127 2.6: 127 2.7: 75, 127, 164 2.11: 127 2.12: 127 2.13: 127 2.14–16: 299

II. INSCRIPTIONS Agora XIX L.3, l. 12: 106 ATL II A9 (¼ IG I3 71) col. IV l.143: 166 Boriskovskaja et al. (1999), 23: 173

CIRB 1: 172, 179 2: 172, 179 5: 172 6 (¼ SIG 3 211): 170, 185 6a: 173 7: 170



Index Locorum

8: 170 9 (¼ SIG 3 213): 171, 172 10: 171 11: 171 18: 171 19: 171 20: 171 37 (¼ SIG 3 209): 170, 178 113: 171 128: 179 173: 179 180: 178 203: 179 248: 179 249: 179 250: 179 923: 179 925: 179 972: 171 974: 171 1014 (¼ SIG 3 214): 171 1015 (¼ SIG 3 216): 171 1037: 170 1038: 170, 172 1039 (¼ SIG 3 215): 171 1040: 171 1043: 171, 172 1056, col. I.1: 172 1056, col. I.2: 172 1056, col. I.12: 172 1111 (¼ SIG 3 210): 168, 170 1233: 179 Crosby, see Hesperia 19 (1950) GHI 14, see IG I3 1 15, see IG I3 501 30: 228 30A.6–12: 334

31: 336 49.39–42, see IG I3 46 52, see IG I3 40 58A, see IG I3 52 65, see IG I3 61 73, see IG I3 78 84, see IG I3 375 GHI II 10, see IG II2 18 11, see IG II2 20 21: 303, 336, 341 22.25–46: 80 25: 49, 334 25.18–23: 334 26 (reprinted in Appendix 3, pp. 330–3): 14, 102–15, 322, 335 26.5–10: 106 26.5–6: 256 26.8: 104 26.10–15: 108 26.11: 107 26.14–16: 103 26.18: 107 26.21–5: 24, 32, 325 26.21: 107 26.22: 107 26.26: 108 26.27: 107 26.29–31: 108 26.30: 107 26.31–6: 107 26.31–3: 108 26.32: 104 26.33–6: 108 26.36–55: 103 26.44 ff.: 236 26.44–51: 216 26.47: 107

Index Locorum 47: 339 64, see IG II2 212 91: 336, 341 95, see IG II2 360 96: 342 96.486–93: 323 100, see IG II2 1629 Hesperia 19 (¼Crosby) (1950) 243.76: 280 249 (¼ IG II2 1582).82: 280 Hesperia 22 (¼Pritchett) (1953) 249, Stele II (¼ IG II2 422): 340 Stele II.90–5 (¼ IG II2 422.90–5): 89 Stele II.91–3 (¼ IG II2 422.91–3): 215 Stele II.170–1 (¼ IG II2 422.210–11): 90 Stele II.177–8 (¼ IG II2 422.217–8): 89 Stele II.311–14 (¼ IG II2 422.37–8): 89 263, Stele IV (¼ IG II2 424): 340 Stele IV.15–21 (¼ IG II2 424.15–21): 89 268, Stele VI (¼ IG II2 426): 340 Stele VI.20–2 (¼ IG II2 426.13–15): 89 Stele VI.66–8 (¼ IG II2 426.56–8): 90 Stele VI.150–1 (¼ IG II2 426.161–2): 89 286, Stele VIII (¼ IG II2 428): 340 Stele VIII.4–6 (¼ IG II2 428.4–6): 91 Stele VIII.8–9 (¼ IG II2 428.8–9): 91


287, Stele X (¼ IG II2 430): 340 Stele X.33 (¼ IG II2 430.36): 89 Hesperia 43 (1974) 322–4: 342 IG I3 1 (¼GHI 14): 102, 339 1.1: 102 1.2–3: 102 1.3–7: 102 1.7–8: 102 1.8–10: 102 1.11: 102 40 (¼GHI 52).47: 99 40.52–7: 99 40.64–9: 91 40.76–9: 100, 128 41: 340 41.38: 92 41.39: 128 41.58: 98 41.60: 115 41.67–76: 115 41.89–110: 98 41.101–102: 82, 139 46.43–46 (¼GHI 49.39–42): 106 52 (¼GHI 58A).106–11: 120 52.319: 120 52.330–1: 120 61: 335 61.10–32: 166 61.32–41: 166 61.34 ff.: 337 62: 166, 337 62.3: 337 62.4: 337 71, see ATL II A9 78 (¼GHI 73, Fornara 140): 14 78.30–5: 14


Index Locorum

113: 341 252: 327–8 252.12–13: 16 259, col. II,1.16: 96 375.16–18: 136 383.106–11: 120 383.319: 120 383.330–1: 120 418: 99 418.2–3: 99 418.2: 99 418.3: 100 418.6–7: 90 418.6: 100 418. 9: 100 418.11: 100 418.14: 100 418.22: 100 422 see Hesperia 22 (1953), 249 424 see Hesperia 22 (1953), 263 426 see Hesperia 22 (1953), 268 428 see Hesperia 22 (1953), 286 430 see Hesperia 22 (1953), 287 501: 80 1007: 73 1180: 164 IG II2 16 þ SIG 3 123 (¼Tod 103): 303 18 (¼ GHI II 10): 303 20 (¼ GHI II 11): 303, 341 30, fr. b.34: 102 34: 262 140: 14 175: 262 212: 175–7, 203, 260, 336, 338 212.11–24: 189 212.14–15: 261 212.15: 116

212.18–20: 261 212.20–4: 175 212.20: 261 212.22–4: 261 212.24–9: 261 212.32–3: 262 212.47–9: 262 212.49–53: 189 212.49–51: 262 212.53–4: 263 212.57–9: 263 212.59–65: 178, 263 212.63–5: 263 283: 341 334: 104 360 (¼ SIG 3 304; GHI II 95). 8–9: 294, 336 407: 342 408: 342 653: 176–7 1182: 72 1196: 48 1197: 48, 72 1198: 48, 72 1200: 48, 72 1202: 48, 72 1241: 16, 328–9 1241.1–9: 329 1241.13: 329 1241.22–4: 329 1241.42 ff.: 329 1243.21–4: 16 1356.7–8: 66 1553.16: 237 1582.82: see Hesperia 19 (1950), 249 1629 (¼GHI II 100): 342 1629.217–20: 308 1629.218–23: 305 1629.219–20: 116 1672: 5, 13–4, 25, 87, 112–13

Index Locorum 1872: 48 1876: 48 1926: 59 2492: 64, 328 2492.1: 53 2492.2–3: 328 2492.3–4: 328 2492.14–16: 328 2492.18–20: 64 2492.27–9: 64 2492.31–41: 64 2492.41–6: 64 2493þ2494.9–10: 328 2493þ2494.10: 328 2493þ2494.10–13: 328 2493þ2494.22–3: 328 2493: 16, 328 2494: 328 2498: 328 2498.10–13: 328 2498.18–21: 328 2498.21–2: 328 6158: 42, 48 6164: 48 6167: 48 6168: 48 6182: 48 6183: 48 6189: 48 6195: 42, 48 6196: 48 6201: 48

190: 134 934: 99 Kyparissis (1926), 59–60: 59 Lo¨per (1892), 341, n. 1: 48 Petrakos (1999b), 14–15: 72 Pritchett, see Hesperia 22 (1953) SEG ii 7: 51 xviii 13: 104 xxiv 152.2: 53 xxxii 267: 43 SIG 3 123, see IG II2 16 209, see CIRB 37 210, see CIRB 1111 211, see CIRB 6 213, see CIRB 9 214, see CIRB 1014 215, see CIRB 1039 216, see CIRB 1015 304, see IG II2 360 963: 328 963.1–36: 329 963.8–9: 329 963.9: 329 Sokolova (2001), 376: 173

IG XII.7 515.74: 32 IG XII.9 90–123: 134


Tod II 103, see IG II2 16 163: 208, 318, 338

General Index (Italicized page references indicate appearance in illustrations, maps, or tables) Abydos 161, 167 Acharnae 37, 49, 57; see also Acharnians Achmetaga 83–6, 138 acropolis of Athens 37, 80, 142, 194 of Euonymon 43–4, 49, 69 of Oropus 117 of Panticapaeum 157–8, 168, 181, 190 Adriatic 92, 302, 305, 308, 342 Aegina 98, 123, 161, 337 Aeschines (Athenian demagogue) 87, 167, 174, 192, 220–1, 223–4, 255, 280 Aeschines (Eretrian aristocrat) 94 Agesandridas (Spartan general) 91, 122, 124–5 Agis (Spartan king) 122, 337 agora (Athenian) 67, 75, 113, 158, 270, 330, 333, 334 Agoranomoi 334 agriculture, see also arable; barley; carrying capacity; crop rotation; fallow; fertilizers; intensive agriculture; pulses; wheat; yields industrial and pre-industrial 24 n. 130, 26, 39, 63, 86 Agryle, Upper and Lower 39 Agyrrhius of Collytus (Athenian demagogue)

Assembly pay and 256, 302 as tax collector 104 n. 131, 107 n. 146, 248 n. 190, 256, 273, 293 in Atheno-Bosporan network 175–6, 177, 256 proposer of Grain-Tax Law 105–15, 143, 192, 302, 331 rhetorical and political precedent set by 256–8, 264, 277–8, 302 Aiakeion 103, 113, 331 Aigospotamoi 143, 175 Aixone carrying capacity of and importance of trade to 49, 63–4, 72; cf. 46 n. 35 decrees 48, 72 deme centre 69 n. 144 interaction with neighbours 49, 51 n. 57, 69, 72 land-lease 52–3, 64–5, 72, 328 location 40, 48, 50, 52, 53 n. 64 terracing 52, 56 Alcetas (tyrant of Epirus) 255, 279, 282 Alcibiades III (Athenian demagogue) 111, 142, 167, 175, 177, 301, 339, 340 Alcibiades IV (son of Alcibiades) 223 Alexander III (the Great, king of Macedon) 231, 255, 288, 291, 296, 298, 303, 308, 319 alphitopolis stoa, see makra stoa; Pericles

General Index Amarynthos 91, 120, 134 Amisus (Piraeus) 143, 179, 337 Amorgos 307, 328, 329 Amphipolis 100, 116, 296, 305 Amyntas (king of Macedon) 255, 281 Anacharsis (Scythian prince) 148, 175, 195–7, 203 Andocides (Athenian orator) involvement in the grain trade 192, 245–51, 254–9, 268–9, 279, 292–3 royal connections 221, 245 n. 171, 246, 248–9, 254–5, 278 source on Euboea 87, 97 n. 97 tax-collecting and 104 n. 131, 107 n. 146, 248 n. 190, 256 n. 221, 273, 293 Androcles of Sphettos (Athenian bottomry lender) 290–1 Androtion (Atthidographer) as proposer of honorific decree 189, 192, 203, 205, 260–9, 281 n. 344, 303–4 as tax-collector 248 n. 190 attacked by Demosthenes 252, 269–78 Atthidographer 203 in Atheno-Bosporan network 175–6, 177, 192, 295–7 animal husbandry 8–9, 17–18, 22–3, 84, 116–17, 240 animals (in Scythia) 151, 163, 199 Ano Potamia 79, 137–9 Apaturius (Byzantine shipowner) 289–90, 293 Aphytis 166, 337 Apollo 158–9, 185 Apollodorus (son of Pasion, Athenian orator) 281–3, 295 Apollonius (prince of Bosporus) 177, 260, 265, 269, 338


arable (or cultivable) land 3, 5–8, 10, 11–15, 24, 37, 46 , 61 on Euboea 86–7, 340 on Euonymon 58, 60, 63 on Imbros, Lemnos, and Scyros 109–110, 111 Archeanactid dynasty 155, 158–9, 163, 165, 167–9 Archelaus (king of Macedon) 221, 246, 254 Ariapeithes (Scythian king) 153–4 aristocracy, see s.v. ethos Ariston of Collytus (father of philosopher Plato) 92, 250 Aristophanes (comic poet) as cleruch 92 on cash crops 67, 74–5 on demagogues 230–6, 301 on Euboea 81, 91, 93, 100 n. 114, 129 on kapeloi 227–37 on long hair 266 on Peloponnesian War 37 n. 2, 234 on thalassocracy 164, 166, 322 on the dodekate 114 Aristotle (philosopher) on Athenian law 217–18 on biennial fallow 19 n. 99 on climate 12, 27 on ethos (moral character) 212 on grain supply 251, 260, 302 on kapeloi 239–42 on long hair 266 n. 262 on olives and bees 66 on paideia 242 on radical democracy 306 Astacus 143, 165, 337 Atalante 78, 119 n. 194, 127–31, 134–5, 339 Atene 39 n. 4, 69 n. 144, 72–3


General Index

Athenian plain 37–9, 38, 45–6, 49–50, 54–6, 76 Atheno-Bosporan network, see Isocrates Athens (modern) 8, 11–15, 25, 38–9, 76 Attic Stelai 89–91 autarky, see self-sufficiency Ayios Vasileios 78, 131–5 Azov (sea) 156, 182 collection complexes on 186 banking 5, 179, 224, 243, 254, 256, 271, 281–4, 289 barley ancient cultivation 6, 8, 10, 24–5, 61 consumption 9, 18 n. 96, 25, 32, 230 Euboean 82, 86, harvest failure 25, 27, in doles 24, 97, 114, 164, 235 in First Fruits inscription 13–14 in Grain-Tax Law 105, 331, 333 in religion 13–14, 24, 113, in Thracian Chersonese 296, 339 modern cultivation 62 nutrition 32 output 6, 7, 10, 20, 110 Pontic 162 prices 106, 326 rainfall and 25, 27 seed:yield 6, 7, 10, Sicilian 342 weights and measures 24, 32, 215, 325, 333 Barthe´lemy, Jean-Jacques (l’abbe´) 149 beekeeping, see honey Bel’sk 149–50 Beloch, Karl Julius 11, 105, 135

benefactions (euergesiai) by Bosporan kings 175, 203–4, 253, 260–2, 303–4 by demagogues 301–2 by merchants 294, 298–9 by wealthy Athenians 224, 280, 294 by wealthy metics 290 n. 387, 294 in Aixone 72 n. 153 in Athenian rhetoric 218–19, 247–8 in Hellenistic period 309 in law of Leptines 253 Berezan 152, 154, 162 Bo¨ckh, August 104–5 Boeotia 11, 39, 42, 74, 86, 315 Athenian conflicts with 116, 122 Geography 83, grain exports from 303 ‘‘Bosporization’’ 180 Bosporus (state and kingdom of) artistic and intellectual life 147–8, 169, 176, 182–3, 191–206 cemeteries 150–2, 156, 160, 163, 168, 181 coinage 159, 171, 183–4, 184, 206 dialect 147 exiles 168, 180 grain exports from 32 n. 185, 110, 113, 144–6, 161–7, 170, 175, 177, 186–9, 199–201, 206–8, 302, 322–4 navy 178 population and population density 186, 206 n. 293, 319 relations with Scythians 155–60 royal economy 169–70, 206–8 royal territory 187–8 territorial expansion 146, 169–70, 174–5, 180

General Index traditionalism and change 147–53, 159, 185, 191, 203 unification of 155–61 bottomry loans 285–99, 301 compared to other loans 282–4 elite involvement in 224–5, 254, 284 Boudoron 127–30 Boudoros (river) 85, 131, 138 boule, see council Bradford, John 38, 47, 53–7 Braudel, Fernand 4, 46, 75, 87–8, 112 Bug (river) 152, 154 Byron, Lord 84, 141 Byzantium 161, 165–6, 188, 289 Hellespontophylakes at 166, 335, 337 interference with Athenian imports 338 Thrasybulus at 302, 338 Callistratus of Aphidna (Athenian demagogue) 257, 278 Cambyses (Persian king) 226, 320 capitalism 241, 286 Caria 275, 286, 288, 341 carrying capacity definition 4 of Attica 4–9, 10, 25, 311–14, 323 of Bosporus 206 of Euonymon 46, 58–63 of Melos 317 Carystus 82, 96, 114, 132, 290 cattle, see animal husbandry census classes, Athenian 93, 105–6 data 3, 8, 11–13, 28–31, 61 Cereus (river) 82–3, 85, 138 Cersobleptes (Thracian king) 188, 270, 304–5, 339


Chabrias (Athenian mercenary leader) 338 Chaeronea (battle of) 307, 341 Chairemonides (First-Fruits law of) 14 Chalcedon 166, 179, 302, 338 Chalcis Athenian victories over 80, 99, 116 Athenian landholdings in 90 cleruchy at 93–6, 97–102, 103, 114–15, 136 decree of 446/5 99–100, 128 forts at 101–2, 134, 137 geography 82–3 sailing routes to 115–16, 118 channels, in Attic agriculture 44–5, 55, 57, 69, 71 charcoal 49, 74–5 Chares (Athenian general) 207 n. 298 Charidemus of Oreus (mercenary general) 249, 270 Charmides (son of Glaukon, Athenian aristocrat) 91–2, 301 Chersonesus, Tauric 179, 321 Chersonesus, Thracian as ‘‘part of Attica’’ 305 in fifth century 92, 143, 340 in fourth century 296, 305, 316 Philaid control of 140–1, 154, 165, 305, 308, 315, 339 Chersonesus, Zenonos 186 Chertomlyk-type gorytoi 199–200 children communist ownership of 194–5 dynastic 171–2, 295 n. 430 grain consumption 19, 32 in Athenian depopulations 317 in courts and rhetoric 267–8, 274 in population figures 29–30, 311 Chios agricultural production of 86


General Index

Chios (cont.) Athenian fort on 128–31 merchants 179 slaves 125 choinix 31–2, 114, 325 Chrysippus (metic wheat-dealer) 290, 294, 298 Chrysopolis 167, 338 Cimon (son of Miltiades II, Athenian general) as ‘‘sharing politician’’ 301 conquest of Scyros 103, 142, 165, 306 conquest of Thracian Chersonesus 165, 339 foreign links 254 n. 217 Citium 246, 336, 341 citizenship (Athenian) challenges to 97, 236, grants of 175, 248, 261, 303–6, 322, 336, 339, 341 in courts 285–6, 291, 293 Pericles’ law on 100, 299–300 Cleisthenes (Athenian demagogue) 74, 116 n. 174, 141, 321 Cleomenes of Naucratis (satrap of Egypt), see Egypt Cleon (Athenian demagogue) 92, 103, 229–35, 339 cleruchies alienability of land in 89–90, 103, 106 and Athenian imperialism 77, 142–3, 165–6, 192, 296, 300–1, 309, 318–19, 322–3 at Aegina 98 at Amisus (Piraeus) 143, 165 at Astacus 143 at Brea 93, 106, 143 at Carystus 96, 114

at Chalcis 80, 93–4, 99, 101, 103, 137, 309 at Eretria 80, 95 n. 90, 99–102, 139 at Histiaea 80, 97–8, 103, 115, 128, 139, 143, 317 at Imbros 14, 81, 98, 103–15, 140, 143, 309, 323 at Lemnos 14, 81, 98, 102–15, 140, 143, 305, 309, 317–18, 323 at Lesbos 94–5, 99 at Melos 142, 317 at Naxos 92 n. 74, 96 n. 91, 340 at Salamis 102, 106, 114, 140, 309 at Samos 94, 98, 307, 317–19 at Scyros 14, 81, 103–15, 140, 143, 309, 322–3 at Sigeion 140 at Sinope 143, 165 ‘‘democratic’’ distribution of land in 77, 80, 93, 141–2, 300–1, 309, 314, 317–18, 322 loss of 80, 117–26, 143, 251, 319 monocultural and latifundist agriculture of, compared to Attica 24, 64, 321 on Euboea 82, 89–102, 103, 114–15, 143, 323, 340; see also Carystus; Chalcis; Eretria; Histiaea on Sicily 142–3 on Thracian Chersonesus 143, 305, 315–16, 340 peculiarity of 98–9, 141 population density of, compared to Attica 8, 25, 50, 58, 112, 315–21 precedents for 319–20 protection of 100–2, 138–40 cleruchs impact on the Athenian economy 301

General Index mobility and residence of 93–6, 115–16, 140, 316–17 not garnisaires 93, 95–6, 102–3, 137 slaveholding by 111–12, 321 taxation of 92, 102–15, 309, 320 wealth of 89, 92–6, 140–1, 321 climate Attic 8, 11–12, 24, 27, 310 Euboean 83 Cnidus 341 colonization Athenian 44, 95, 98, 141–3, 296, 316–17, 321, 337; see also cleruchies by thalassocrats 98, 142 Pontic 146–62, 182, 187, 191–2 Spartan 136, 340 commercial privileges loading priority 189, 206 tax exemptions 53, 73–4, 92, 99, 107, 110, 166, 189, 191, 206, 224, 253, 268, 280 n. 341, 304, 336, 341 commercial suits (dikai emporikai) 285–99, 302–3 communism 228, 233, 241–2 Conon (Athenian general) 254 n. 217, 341 conspiracies, see friendship ‘‘consumer city’’ vi, 239 consumption avoided in cleruchies 112–13, 319 indispensable knowledge about 251 of grain 6, 8–9, 10, 18, 30, 31–2, 33, 88, 162, 220 of oil 66 Corinthian War 175 n. 156, 303 Cotys 188, 254 n. 217


council 28, 39, 59, 121 n. 207, 123, 218, 236, 249, 272–3, 276 at Olbia 147 at Panticapaeum 185 in cleruchies 94, 98 Crimea 143, 152, 160, 162–3, 321, 337–8; see also Bosporan kingdom Crithote 296 n. 432, 339 crop rotation 5, 15–7, 24, 61 Cyclades 141 n. 329, 142 n. 333 Cyprus; see also Andocides; Evagoras; Salamis (Cypriot) agricultural experiments on 17 n. 89 as grain source 302–3, 340–2 beehives from 67 terracing on 55 Cyrene 302, 323, 340–2 Cyzicus 166, 338 Athenian victory at 247 coinage 206, 290 weight standard 163 n. 106 Dandarioi 170–1, 173 Darius I (Persian king) 148, 154, 195, 226, 232–3, 298 Darius (metic bottomry lender) 291 Decelea fort at 121, 135, 340 route past 115–18 War 92, 117, 122, 125, 129, 277, 337 Delphinium (‘‘sacred harbour’’ near Oropus) 91 demagogues control over food imports 114–15, 164, 229–36, 301


General Index

demagogues (cont.) defined 229 n. 92 role in the democracy 306 n. 479 Demarchos (Bosporan noble) 168, 170 demes (Attic); see also Atene; Aixone; Euonymon; Halai Aixonides; Halimous boundaries of 69–71 centres 69 n. 144 importance of land routes to 49 importance of trade to 74–5 interaction between 56, 57 n. 80, 69–72 land 64–5 movement between 47–8 settlement density and complexity 50–1 territorial basis of 69 n. 145 theatres 44, 72 Demeter 64, 70, 156; see also Eleusis; Halimous, Thesmophorion Demetrius of Callatis (seismologist) 119 n. 194, 131 Demetrius of Phaleron (Athenian demagogue) 3 n. 2, 28 democracy (Athenian), see also demos and demography 28–30 as inverted monarchy 306 dismissal of 121 n. 207, 205 geometry as a tool of 96, 322 imperialism and ideology of 80, 93, 95–7, 109, 141–3, 211–13, 243, 255, 279 n. 337, 296 n. 433, 306–9, 321–2, kings as champions of 205–6, 243, 255, 262–8, 298–9, 303–5, 322 language and rhetoric of 106–7, 192, 204, 213, 224 n. 70,

247, 251, 255–80, 304–6, 309, cf. 155 law in the 217–18, 249–50, 272–3, 295–7 physical appearance appropriate to 266–8 politicians as champions of 96–7, 106–7, 205–6, 247–9, 252, 257, 261, 272–3, 275–8, 280, 298–9, 302, 322 power of elite in 268, 274–5, 279–80, 321–3 redistribution in 233–42, 273–4, 298–9, 312 Demomeles (son of Demon of Paiania, relative of Demosthenes) 224 n. 70 Demon (son of Demomeles of Paiania, Athenian bottomry lender) 288–9 demos (Athenian people) gifts by 90–1, 111 n. 157, 189, 261, 279 n. 337, 304 grain for 93, 107, 114–15, 142–3, 235–6, 301–4 in comedy 231, 234, 301 judicial and political power of 116, 141, 216–17, 236, 255–9, 263–8, 275, 277–9, 292–3, 297, 306–8 land for 96–7, 142, 301 Demosthenes (Athenian general) 129–30 Demosthenes (Athenian demagogue) admiration for Agyrrhius 107, 256–7, 302 and trade 192, 220 n. 46, 221–2, 223–5, 280, 283–4, 288–9 as sitones 224 n. 70, 335 as student of Isocrates 176 n. 163

General Index Bosporan connections 166–7, 176, 177, 192, 206 n. 293, 220–2, 244 n. 368, 252–6, 264, 268, 270, 304 n. 469, 337 on Athenian grain imports 32–3, 110, 113, 176, 189, 207, rhetorical persona of 251–60, 271–9 depopulation as a characteristic of Athenian cleruchies 80 n. 10, 97, 100, 103, 315–18, 321–2 in Isocrates 77, 315 Spartan precedent 320 Dicaeopolis (Aristophanic character) 74 Dio Chrysostom (Greek orator) 147, 191 Diodotus (brother of Diogeiton) 92, 224, n. 70, 301, 339 Diogenes (the Cynic) 254 n. 216 Dion 288 n. 371, 290 n. 391 Dionysius I (tyrant of Syracuse) 245 n. 171, 296 n. 430, 303, 305, 306 n. 479 Dionysius of Byzantium (geographer) 207 n. 298 Dionysodorus 291, 297, 307, Dnieper (river) 149, 152, 154, 184 n. 199, 193 n. 247, 195 dodekate (one-twelfth tax) 102–15, 330–33 Don (river) 146, 152, 154, 182, 187 n. 213 doublethink 259–61, 268, 279 drought 27, 307 Eetioneia 121–5 Egypt, see also Psammetichus


armies of, as precedent for Greek grain supply 320 Cleomenes of Naucratis (satrap of Egypt) 206, 231–3, 291, 297–8, 307 coinage in 206 n. 293 grain exports from 126–7, 291, 323, 340–1 in comedy and rhetoric 75, 226 n. 74, 306 n. 479 merchants and agents from 281, 291, 302, 336 people of, compared to Scythians 148 eisphora 92, 108 n. 148, 115, 143, 191, 219, 245–6, 273 ekklesia kyria (principal assembly), see grain, subject of Elaious 144, 165, 305 Eleusis 5, 13–14, Eleutherae 11, 116 n. 174, Eliot, C.W.J. 38, 47–8, 69 n. 145, 72 elite, see s.v. ethos Elymnion 91, 133 n. 271, 138 embeddedness 4, 286; see also substantivism emporoi (importers, merchants or traders) alliance with, or among political or economic elite 235–7, 249, 253–4, 283–4, 288, 290, 292, 294, 296, 298–9 Andocides among 221, 245–51, 257–8 as kapeloi 230–3 before Herodotus 242 n. 160 ideological antipathy to 196–7, 201–2, 204–6 impact on Bosporan culture 148, 169–70


General Index

emporoi (cont.) impact on the Athenian economy 67, 74–5, 301 in Athenian rhetoric and politics 213, 242–85, 292, 298–9 in commercial suits and Athenian law 219, 285–99, 334–6 in Grain-Tax Law 108, 113–14, 332–3 in Plato 238, 298–9 loans to 225 modern studies on 4–5, 7 n. 24, 74, 242–3, 245 n. 169, 249, 258–9, 279, 298 n. 443 privileged 189, 294, 341 son of Sopaios among 256 Spartocids and 176, 177, 178–80, 189, 263–4 Ephorus of Cyme (historian) attacks on 201 in circle of Isocrates 175–6, 177, 194 on Peisistratus 53 tradition of idealizing Scythia 148, 186 n. 208, 194–206 erosion, see s.v. rainfall equity (in Athenian law) 218 Eretria, see also cleruchies; Euboea; Grain-Tax aristocracy of 80 n. 3 Athenian properties in territory of 89–90, 100 battle of 91 n. 68, 95 n. 90, 125–6, 136; see also Agesandridas controlled from Oropus 116–17, 118, 340 envoys to Peloponnesians 122 n. 215 forts on territory of 118 n. 186, 136–8, 139 fourth-century Athenian connections with 281, 303

in Persian Wars 93–4, 103 n. 124 Polystratus of Deirades at 123 territory and agriculture of 79, 82–3, 120 tribute from 99 ethnicity 180 n. 184, 186 n. 208 ethos (moral character) in Athenian rhetoric 212, 218, 273–5 of the Athenian elite 140–3, 194–206, 239–42, 250–1, 301; see also Sparta Euboea, see also Carystus; Chalcis; Eretria; Histiaea Athenian dependence on 80–1, 87, 89–93, 99, 117–26, 140–3, 164, 323, 339–40 Athenian epigamia 100 Athenian loss of 117–26, 143 Athenian ‘‘expedition’’ (in 424/3) 97, 100 n. 114, 236 n. 121 Athenian ‘‘protection of ’’ 100–2, 118–40 cattle on 84, 115–16 Cleisthenic cleruchy on 80 coinage in economy of 115 n. 169 concern of the Four Hundred for 121–6 dodekate on 114–15 ferry-routes to 115–16 geography and wealth of 77–88, 78–9, 120, 141 n. 329, 315 n. 26 grain production 84–7 in the fourth century 341 modern underestimation of 80–1 nineteenth-century population of 85 Ottoman tax on 87 n. 41 population in antiquity 87 n. 42

General Index Sunium route from 117–23 under the Athenian empire 80, 96–102, 299–300, 322 Venetian dependence on 87–8 wood and charcoal exports from 84 Eumelus (king of Bosporus) ‘‘artistic’’ death of 202 elimination of piracy by 179 fratricidal war of 171, 178, 190–1 Euonymon, see also Trachones acropolis of 43–4, 49, 69 agricultural potential of 45–6 bouleutic quota of 74 carrying capacity of 58–61, 63 economic growth of 72–4 honey production at 66–8 importance of cash-crops to 64, 68, 74–6 in Peloponnesian War 37 n. 2 intensive agriculture at 57–63 involvement of demesmen in mining 69 location and area 39, 40–1, 42–50, 60 manufacture in 68–9 modern data and 12, 60–3 movement across 47–50 olive cultivation at 65–6 population of 58–60, 63 settlement density and integration around 50–1, 64, 69–72 stone clearance and terracing at 51–7 theatre at 43–6, 60, 72–3 water-management 44–6, 57, 69, 71 Evagoras (king of Cypriot Salamis) 245 n. 171, 254 n.


217, 295 n. 430, 296 n. 433, 303, 305, 341 exetasmos, see census fallow, biennial 10, 14–24, 66, 87, 110–12 in Isager & Skydsgaard 9 in land leases 327–9 in modern Greece 61, 85–6 in Sallares 8, 10 in Osborne 7–8, 10 in Garnsey 5, 8, 10, 15–8 in Jarde´ 5, 7, 10 famine and luxuries 221 and the Four Hundred 122 n. 212 consequence of Athenian imperialism 318 defined 310 n. 5 extreme rarity in antiquity 310 in Athenian Realpolitik 126–7 in Malthusian cycle 312 in Nazi-occupied Athens (1941–2) 60–3 relief of 224 Fellenberg, Frederick (Swiss aristocrat) 83–5 fertilizers and ‘‘manuring hypothesis’’ 55 n. 72 green manure 8, 16, 17 n. 89, 22, 61 in modern agriculture 15, 17, 27, 61–2 in new orthodoxy 5, 15–19, 55 n. 72 insufficiency of 8–9, 21–4, 27, 327 necessary for continuous cultivation 14–15


General Index

Finley, Moses 4–5, 7 n. 24, 69 n. 145, 243–4, 274 n. 305 First-Fruits 5, 13–4, 112–13 fish 18 n. 96, 31 n. 181, 81, 163, 187 n. 213, 188 n. 220, 296 n. 433 fodder 9, 15–17, 62 forts, see also Ano Potamia; Atalante; Ayios Vasileios; Boudoron; Chalcis; Chios; cleruchies; Cythera; Decelea; Delphinium; Eetioneia; Eretria; Oropus; Pylos; Rhamnous; Sunium; Thoricus; Vrachos as bases for Athenian naval power 102, 117, 120, 126–40 location and construction 120–1, 129–30 manpower requirements 130, 135, 137 protecting land routes 136–9 reinforced during Peloponnesian War 97, 100 n. 114, 124, 136 n. 296 Four Hundred, see also Eetioneia; Polystratus; Theramenes; Thoricus and Andocides 246–7 and Androtion 205 period of rule 121 n. 207 securing grain stocks and supplies 121–5 Thucydides’ antipathy towards 122–5 friendship (xenia or philia) as a virtue in Isocratean paideia 199 as conspiracy 291–9 in Bosporan politics 179, 187 in lending 289–90

in Lucian and Kul’-Oba cup 199, 200 in tax-collecting 114, 177, 293 in the Atheno-Bosporan network 143, 175–6, 177, 199, 204, 295–7 of Agyrrhius 256 of Anacharsis and Croesus 197 of Andocides 245–51 of Androtion 269–79 of Apollodorus 283 n. 350 of Demosthenes 254, 256, 271, 284 of the demos 256, 265 n. 253 of Timotheus 278–9, 281–4 tensions with democracy 243 with Macedonian kings 220–1, 224, 254–5, 281 Fundort 48, 72 Garnsey, Peter his picture of the Athenian grain supply 4–8, 10, 12–18, 25–6, 62 n. 104, 81, 146 n. 4 refutation of his arguments 8–9, 12–19, 22, 32 n. 185, 33, 58, 61, 81, 109 n. 153, 112–13, 140 n. 324, 144, 206–8, 311 n. 8, 312 n. 12, 313 n. 22 Gelon (tyrant of Syracuse) 320, 342 Gelonus 149 Generalskoe Zapadnoe 186–8 Geraestus 89, 133, 338 Geroulanos, see Trachones gift-giving; see also demos ; benefactions; friendship to the Seraglio 68 in Scythia 184 n. 199 antithesis of kapeleia 225–42 Glaucetes (associate of Androtion) 275, 277

General Index Glaucon (brother of philosopher Plato) 250, 252 Glyphada 48, 54, 56 Gorgippia 179, 180–2 Gorgippos (son of Satyrus I of Bosporus) 176, 177 grain-dealers (sitopolai) 212–25, 244–5, 248, 259, 290, 292, 294, 299, 302–3 as kapeloi ? 225–42 including pyropolai and Athenian politicians 221 grain distributions; see demos, grain for grain guardians (sitophylakes) 213–16, 219–20, 253, 256, 302, 334–5 grain imports; see also emporoi ancient figures 32–3, 110, 207and tax 104 as method of imperial coercion 127, 166–7 from Lemnos, Imbros and Scyros 115, 143, 256–7 in Decelean War 117 in philosophy 239–40, 251 in rhetoric 211, 219–21, 245–51, 253, 268, 293–4 new orthodoxy on 7–8, 146 n. 4, 312 n. 12, 315 to Athens 9, 10, 87, 140–3, 206–8, 299–308, 309–24, 334to armies 320 to Euboea and Black Sea 87 to Euonymon 68, 76 to many Classical Greek poleis 314–15 to Mytilene 208, 318 to Sparta 320 to Venice 87–8 traditional view of 4, 232, 243


grain, shortage or crisis of (spanositia) 32 n. 185, 236, 290 n. 387, 294, 304 n. 469, 310–11, 342 grain, subject of (peri sitou) 3, 250–2, 314; see also principal assembly Grain-Tax Law, see GHI II 26 in index locorum granaries 257 ; see also Aiakeion cisterns and pits 42 n. 11, 138, 186–7 graves, see necropoleis grazing 8–9, 23, 46, 86 n. 40, 111 green manure, see fertilizer Guards of the Hellespont (Hellespontophylakes) 166, 335, 337 Gylon of Cerameis (grandfather of Demosthenes) 166–7, 174, 176, 177, 193, 254, 337 Halai Aixonides 37 n. 1, 49 Halimous bordering Euonymon 40, 69–71, 70, 73 carrying capacity of and reliance on trade 63–4, 76 habitational complexity of 50 –1 location of 44, 48 terracing at 56 Thesmophorion of 70–1 water supply of 69 Hansen, Mogens Herman on ancient trade 243 n. 161 on Athenian population 28–30, 59, 310 n. 2 on term ‘‘Pontus’’ 32 n. 185 on total number of Greeks 314–16


General Index

Hansen (cont.) on weight of grain 24 n. 131 various disagreements with 216 n. 23, 251 n. 201, 276, 282 n. 548, 287 n. 368 harvest good 18 n. 96 in First-Fruits inscription 13–14, 87 n. 41, 112 in Grain-Tax Law 104, 107–9, 257 n. 228 in occupied Athens (1941) 60 in Tolstoy 112 n. 160 manpower for 112 of grain 9 n. 47, 17, 312 n. 12 of honey 66–8 of olives 62, 65–6, 89 of pulses 8, 327 on Euboea 89 rent taken from 84 n. 30 time for 19, 22, 62, 69, 257 n. 228 Hasebroek, Johannes his theory of ancient trade 243 on concealment of wealth 258 on the ‘‘consumer city’’ 239 n. 145 refutation of 220 n. 46, 232, 245 n. 169, 247 n. 182, 294 n. 424 Hecataeus (king of the Sindoi) 174, 180 Hegestratus (Massaliot shipowner) 289, 292 hektemorage 105, 313 Helleniko Airport, see Trachones Hellespont 161, 165–6, 192, 245 n. 171, 302, 309, 315–16, 335, 337–8 Heracleia in Trachis 135–6, 340 Heracleia Pontica 204, 342 Heracleides of Salamis 294, 298, 336

Hermocrates of Syracuse 121 Herodotus (historian) ‘‘illustrations’’ to 193, 195 on Black Sea trade 161 on cleruchs 93–4 on emporoi 242 n. 160 on kapeloi 226, 228, 232, 240 on Pontic colonies 146–8 on Scythians 148–60, 162, 168, 175, 191, 202 on the capture of Lemnos 305 Hierocles (chresmologos) 90–1 Hieron 207–8, 307, 338 Hippobotai 80, 93–6, 99, 141 Histiaea (Oreoi); see also cleruchies after revolt of Euboea (411) 95 n. 90, 143 Athenian properties in 90–1 cleruchy on 80, 95 n. 90, 97–8, 100, 102–3 depopulated 80 n. 10, 97, 317 eisphora and dodekate at 92, 114–15 forts on territory of 132, 137–9 geography and agriculture 78, 82–3, 85 sea lanes and 115, 128 Histiaeus (tyrant of Miletus) 161, 337 Histria 152–4, 161–2, 167 Homer and aristocratic ideal 147–8, 194–204, 261 n. 241, 266 on agriculture 19–20 honey 66–8, 75, 240 hoplites and cleruchies 80, 95, 102–3 ideology of 204 land-ownership 5, 12–13 horoi 57, 69 n. 145, 89 n. 58

General Index Hymettos, Mt. agricultural conditions on 44–6, 51 agricultural infrastructure on 55–7 and tax-free district 53, 73–4 honey of 66–8 topography 37, 39–41, 48, 53 n. 63 Ilissos (river) 37, 45, 306 Imbros, see cleruchies Impostor, the (Alazon) 224–5, 284 industry and manufacture, ancient 5, 30, 66, 68, 158, 192, 230, 240 intensive agriculture at Trachones 60–2 in Classical Attica 23, 56–8, 63–5, 69, 72 n. 154, 76, 313, 323 in new orthodoxy 7–9, 17, 29, 59 n. 91, mistaken assumptions about 15, 20 n. 106, 58, on Euboea 86 Ionian ideal 147–8, 153, 158–9, 169, 173 Ionian Revolt 161, 305 n. 474, 320, 337 Isager, Signe and Skydsgaard, Jens Erik 9, 11, 13 n. 68, 22 n. 114, 24 n. 130, 29 n. 168, 56 n. 77 Ischomachus 20, 22, 274 Isocrates (Athenian rhetorician) and the Atheno-Bosporan network 175–6, 177, 188–9, 192–206, 272 n. 290, 290, 295–7, 306 n. 479 apologist for Athenian cleruchies 77–81, 315–16 Jarde´, Auguste 4–9, 10, 11–14, 16 n. 80, 25 n. 133, 26 n. 145, 27 n.


146, 62 n. 104, 66 n. 126, 81 n. 12, 86 n. 39, 116 n. 173 Jason (tyrant of Pherae) 254 n. 217, 279, 282, 295 n. 430 kapeloi 225–42, 298–9, 301 Kedoi 39, 41 Kephissos (river) 37, 306 Kepoi 152, 167 n. 120, 177, 181, 254 Kerch 158 n. 73 Kerch straits 152, 156, 160, 162, 168, 174, 181 Kerinthos 78, 82 nn. 13 and 15, 85, 131–2 Kul-’Oba 181, 193 n. 267, 194, 199, 200 kurgans at Gorgippia 180–2 at Hermonassa 152 at Kepoi 152, 181 at Korokondame 181 at Nymphaeum 145, 151–2, 181 at Panticapaeum 145, 152, 180–1, 185 at Phanagoria 152, 181, at Temir Gora 145, 152, 181 at Tsukur Liman 181, Chertomlyk 199–200 Gaimanova Mogila 200–1 Great Ryzhanovka 184 Kekuvatskovo 181 Kul’-Oba 145, 181, 194, 199, 200 Melek-Chesme 145, 181 of brick and wood 180 on Juz-Oba 145, 181 Patiniotti 145, 181, Serpent Tumulus 194 Seven Brothers 180 n. 184 Solokha 193 n. 247, 197, 204, 205 stone-chambered 180, 182, 192, 202


General Index

kurgans (cont.) Tolstaja Mogila 198, 199 Tsarskii 145, 181–2, 183 Zolotoi 145, 181, Kyme 79, 82 n. 17, 133, 137–9 labour and soil 46 for increased production 7, 58 hired 69 n. 142, 92 n. 74, 235, 240 n. 148 in Bosporan kingdom 188 n. 220 on Euboea and cleruchies 85, 92 n. 74, 93, 111–12 organization of 69, 233, 238–9, 240 n. 148, 321 slave 9, 29 n. 168, 321 Lacritus of Phaselis (pupil of Isocrates) 177, 290–1, 294–7 Lampis (oiketes of Dion) 288 n. 371, 290, 293 n. 414, 304 Lampsacus 140–1 Laurium 37, 49, 68–9, 84, 124–5, 280, 321 lawyers as parasites 236 defer to juries 267–8 never lie 80 n. 10 leases, land- 327–9 Aixone 52–3, 64–5, 72, 328 and biennial fallow 7, 19, 327–9 and pulses 16, 327–9 on Euboea 90, 99–100 legumes, see pulses Lelantine plain 82, 89, 101, 137 Lemnos, see cleruchies lending, see banking Leocrates 341 Leoxos (Olbian aristocrat) 153, 159 Lesbos 94–5, 99, 110, 166, 317–18, 337; see also cleruchies Leucon I, king of Bosporus

gives names to dynasty 155 n. 52, 174, grain exports and contact with Athens 32 n. 185, 175–6, 177, 189, 207, 253, 260–1, 302 nature of rule 174–90, 202–3, 302, 338 refurbishes and opens port of Theodosia 176, 207 titulature 170–4, 255, Leucon II 183 n. 196 Libya, see Cyrene liturgies 92, 107, 224–5, 253, 260, 274, 280 livestock, see animal husbandry Locris (Opuntian) 78, 127–8, 135, 339–40 luxuries and dress 266 and empire 127, 163–4 grain 75 n. 169, 163, 221–2 in Pontic graves 180, 192–206 meat 18 n. 96 prices of 68 n. 138 ‘‘trademark’’ 67–8 Lydia 197, 226 n. 74, 320 Lysander (Spartan general) 126, 338 Lysimachus of Alopeke (son of Aristides) 90–1, 111 n. 157, 340 Macedonia agriculture 8, 16–7, 86 n. 39 Athenian conflict with 230, 263–4, 307–8, 319, 338 monarchy 221, 224, 230, 246, 254–5, 280–1 timber 221, 224, 246, 280–1 magistracies at Athens 216, 257, 260 n. 255, 277 n. 330, 287–8, 334–6 at Bosporus 173, 181–2, 185, 187–8

General Index in the Grain-Tax Law 103 n. 130, 57, 335 Maiotai 170–1, 174, 176, 180, 182 makra stoa (great stoa) 121–2; see also Pericles Mantitheus (Athenian aristocrat) 175, 177, 267–8 manufacture; see industry and manufacture manure, see fertilizers Marathon agriculture 37 battle of 141–2, 235 beehives 66–7 deme centre 69 n. 144 Tetrapolis 71–2 market cartels and conspiracies in 293–7 cash-crop 23, 64, 67, 72–6, 314, 321, 323, grain 257 n. 228, 297 in World War II 60–3 regulations 49 n. 48, 219, 257 n. 228, 314, 334–6 social and political aspects of 50, 225–42 weights 163 n. 106, 325; see also Hansen market supervisors (Agoranomoi) 219, 334 Mausolus (king of Caria) 190 n. 236, 275, 278, 298 n. 430 Medici 88 Meidias 84, 270–1, 280–1, 283, 291 n. 399 Melanopus (associate of Androtion) 275, 277 Menippus of Caria (participant in dike emporike) 286 n. 361, 288 n. 373 merchants, see emporoi; kapeloi


Mesogaia 37 n. 1, 39 n. 5, 111 n. 157 Methone 166, 337 metics (in Athens) as agents 281, 290 n. 391 as traders and lenders 213, 215, 223, 246, 282–3, 289–91 in demography 9, 28–31, 59, 111 in law and politics 286 n. 363, 287, 289, 291 n. 400 paying tax 28, 274, 334 wrongly seen as ‘‘politically mute’’ 287 n. 368 Metrodorus (brother of Leucon I of Bosporus) 190 n. 236 Metronomoi 334 Meyer, Eduard 30, 305 n. 474 Miletus 146–7, 151, 159, 160–1, 167, 182, 320 Miltiades I (son of Cypselus, tyrant of Chersonese) 165, 305 n. 474, 315, 339 Miltiades II (son of Cimon, tyrant of Chersonese) 103, 141–2, 154, 165, 305, 309, 339 Miltiades of Lakiadai (Adriatic oikist) 307–8, 342 Minoa 127–9 Mithridates, mount 145, 157–8, 192 n. 241 Myrina 305; see also cleruchies, Lemnos Myrrhinous 72 n. 151, 328, 329 Napoleon I (French Emperor) 237–8 Naucratis 275; see also Egypt Nausicrates of Carystus (metic bottomry lender) 290–1 Naxos; see also cleruchies battle of 338


General Index

Nazis 53–4, 60, 70 n. 347 necropoleis; see also kurgans at Nymphaeum 150–1, 156, 160, 167 at or near Euonymon 44, 48–9, 51, 73 at Panticapaeum 150, 181, 185, 193 at Theodosia 160, 168 in Bosporus 152, 163, 181 on Euboea 133 n. 273 Negroponte 87–8; see also Euboea Neleus (river) 82 n. 15, 83, 138 Nephereus (king of Egypt) 323, 341 Nicides (of Melite, Athenian aristocrat) 89 Nicocles (king of Cypriot Salamis) 203, 237, 241, 295–6 nitrogen 8, 14–5, 17 Noel family 83–6, 118 n. 184 Nymphaeum; see also necropoleis Athenian garrison at 166–7, 174–5, 177, 337 Leucon inscription from 173–4, 181–2, 185, 190 n. 236 outside early Bosporan state 156, 160 wealth and culture of 160, 163, 167–8, 193 Oeonias (son of Oeonochares of Atene, Athenian aristocrat) 89–91, 93, 97 oil, see olives Olbia Athens and 165, 191–2 countryside and economy of 154, 161–5 Greco-Scythian interaction at 149, 152–6, 159–60, 162–3, 167

Milesian settlement 146–7, 182 n. 193 ‘‘Old Oligarch’’ (PseudoXenophon) 126–9, 164, 167, 267 olives as a cash crop 64–6, 68, 75 at Trachones 46, 62, 66 n. 123 combination with beekeeping 66–8 in Aixone lease 64–5 in Solon’s legislation 313, 334 nutritional value 31 on Euboea 81, 89–90 wood 64–5 Olympiodoros (Athenian general) 43, 48, 69 Oropus 11, 49, 79, 89 n. 55, 91, 94, 104 n. 131, 115–18, 122, 340 Orwell, George, see doublethink Osborne, Robin calculations of Athenian carrying-capacity 7–8, 10, 12, 26, 61–3, on agriculture 46 n. 34, 53 n. 59 on cleruchies 95 n. 90 on Eleusinian First-Fruits 14 n. 73 on Grain-Tax Law 103 n. 127, 330–333 on land leases 7, 327–9 on Solon 312 n. 12, 314 n. 23 on subsistence farming 58 n. 84, 74 Ottomans 83–4, 87, 88, 258 n. 231, 311 n. 11 Oxford 151, 167, 337 Overseers of the Emporion (Epimeletai tou emporiou) 49 n. 48, 335 Overseers of the Grain (Epimeletai tou sitou) 335

General Index Paerisades I (king of Bosporus) building programme 91 honoured in Athens 260–70, 338 in Atheno-Bosporan network 177 master of Bosporan grain trade 189 titulature 171–2, 261, 270, 303–4 paideia 200, 202, 242 palinkapelos 231–3, 298 Pamphilos (metic bottomry lender) 291 Pamphilus (agent of Meidias) 281, 291 n. 599 Panaitios (Euboean landholder) 90 Panticapaeum, see also Kerch; necropoleis; kurgans Archeanactid 159–64, 168 coinage 155 n. 52, 156, 158–9, 183, 184 foundation and building periods 157–8, 168 n. 124 name 159 n. 76 palace at 186, 190–1 political institutions 185 port facilities 176 n. 165, 206 –7 relations with Scythia 156–69, 167–9 religion 158–9, 185 Spartocid 143, 146, 155 n. 52, 160, 165 n. 112, 167–9, 169–208 theatres at 191–2 workshops at 192–3 Paralia 37 Parmeniscus (partner of Dionysodorus) 291, 297 Parmenon (Byzantine merchant) 289, 293 n. 413 Paros 67, 141


Pasion (Athenian banker) 177, 179, 224 n. 70, 256, 281–3, 289 n. 385 pasturing, see grazing Peisistratus and Peisistratids (tyrants of Athens) Athenian cash crops and 73 interest in north Aegean 140–1, 165, 309, 339 land of Hymettos and 53, 73 rule of, similar to Athenian democracy 306 n. 479 struggle against 247 n. 185 Peloponnesian War; see also Lysander; Pericles Andocides in 247 Athenian demography and 6, 9, 30–1 Athenian thalassocracy and 167, 340 Attica in 37 cleruchies in 93, 95 n. 90, 139–40, 143 complexity of Athenian politics and 250–1 Euboea in 81, 115–16, 117–26, 134–5, 140, 323 kapeloi in 234 relations between Athens and Bosporus during 146, 174–5, 176, 323 the Athenian economy in 74, 104 n. 131, 139–40, 250–1, 301 Pentakosiomedimnoi (five-hundredbushel class) 104–12, 302, 316 Pentekoste (one-fiftieth tax) in the Grain-Tax Law 103–4 other pentekostai 104 n. 131, 107 n. 146, 335 Peparethos 132 Perdiccas II (king of Macedon) 230


General Index

Pericles (Athenian demagogue) builds makra stoa (alphitopolis) 122 n. 208 conquers Euboea 80, 93, 96–103, 129, 299, 322 establishes other cleruchies and colonies 142, 166, 316, 339, 342 his ‘‘strategy’’ or form of imperialism 299–301, 306 Pontic expedition 164–6, 337 Persia Alexander III (as king of) 319 Athenian democracy assimilated to 306 n. 479 Demosthenes and 284 harbour dues in Egypt under 341 Isocrates advocates conquest of 77 nourished by Cyrus 299 Peace of Callias and 299 prepares fleet against Philip II 207 n. 298 tempted by Euboea 79–80 tributary system of 226 Persian Wars Athenian ‘‘freedom’’ and 141 cleruchy at Chalcis during 93 Greek cities in 80, 93 Greek stockpiling of supplies during 161 military supplies in 320 Scythians distinguished in 146, 148, 265 trigger Scythian expansion 153–4, 161 Phaenippus (Athenian landowner) 111 n. 157, 270–1 Phaleron 41, 50–1 Phanagoria 152, 179, 181 double herm of Demarchos from 168, 170 Phelleis 52–3

Philaids 140–2, 309; see also Miltiades I and II; Miltiades of Lakiadai; Cimon Philip II (king of Macedon) Athenian cleruchs and 296 n. 432, 305 connections to prominent Athenians 220–1, 254 n. 217, 295 n. 430 dismisses ‘‘Athenian’’ Teres and Cersobleptes 304–5 negotiations with 264 n. 250, 305 seizes Athenian grain ships 207, 307, 338 war with Athens 263, 307, 339 Philip (Athenian shipowner) 277–8, 282 n. 349 Philocrates (Athenian demagogue) 192, 220–4, 280 Peace of 207 n. 298, 305 n. 473 Philondas of Megara (agent of Timotheus) 281–3, 289 n. 385, 297 n. 439 Phoenicia 340–1; see also Sidon Phormio (metic merchant) 290, 293–4, 303–4 phormos (basket) 213–15, 223, 335 phoros, see tribute phrouria, see forts phrouroi (watchers) 166; see also Guards of the Hellespont Phrynon (founder (?) of Sigeion) 140, 309, 339; see also Sigeion piracy, see s.v. ships Piraeus; see also Eetioneia Androtion’s decree in 203 as universal supermarket 75 n. 168 Boudoron fort and 129 n. 249 cash crops and 75

General Index companies at 293, 297 Deigma 124 Demosthenes at 224–5 dispersal of Euonymon gravestones to 48 n. 40 famine (in 1941–42) 60 fish in 31 n. 181 focus of Athenian economy on 299–301 fortification of 87 n. 42, 121–5 grain sent to and sold in 49 n. 48, 206, 213, 249, 331, 334, 337–8, 341 land lease from 328 magistrates in 334–5 markra stoa (alphitopolis) 121–2 museum 47 n. 39 protection of route to 117–26, 206 sailing times from Euboea to 118 n. 184 siege of 126, 338 slipways 132 n. 261 Steinhu¨gel in 51 n. 56 taxes at 104 n. 131, 107–8, 256, 335 Timotheus and 281 Piraeus (Pontic), see Amisus ploughing animals used for 18, 62 archaeological remains and 137 n. 302 fallow fields 16, 19–22, 329 in Homer and Hesiod 19–20 in Xenophon and Theophrastus 20 manpower in 111–12 pulses 8, 15–6, 17 n. 89, 20–2 stubble 23 terraces and 56 n. 76 ploughs 62 n. 106


Po valley 323, 342–3 politicians; see demagogues Polyeuctus (son of Timocrates, Athenian demagogue) 177, 269–75 Polystratus of Deirades (member of the Four Hundred) 123, 125 population density in Attica 8, 24–5, 50, 316 in Classical Greece 314–16 in Euonymon 112 in production vs. consumption areas 112, 186, 319 in Scyros 112, 316 intensive land-use and 58, 311–14 overpopulation 311–14; see also depopulation population (Athenian) according to Garnsey 6, 10 according to Jarde´ 4, 10 according to Osborne 7–8, 10 according to Sallares 9, 10 as a key variable 3, 310–11 calculation of 28–31 growth rate 311–12 in Archaic period 311–14 pressure 20, 57–8, 311–14 resident in countryside 24, 75 unknown in antiquity 3 Potidaea 135 n. 291, 166 n. 117, 305 primitivism, see substantivism principal assembly (ekklesia kyria) 3, 260, 302, 314, 334 Prytanis (king of Bosporus) 171, 190 n. 235 Psammetichus (king of Egypt) 236, 300, 323, 340 Psessoi 170, 173


General Index

pulses; see fertilizers Pylos as offensive fortification 127–8, 129–31 Cleon at 229, 103 n. 124 Lemnians and Imbrians at 103 n. 124 rainfall; see also drought erosion and 44, 46, 54–6 limits natural growth for pasturage 23 low and variable in Attica 8, 11–12, 17, 24–5, 27 near Euonymon 45 requirements for growing crops 17, 25, 27 retained by fallow fields 15 seasonal torrential streams from 55–6 ravaging by a thalassocrat 127 n. 235 during Peloponnesian War 37 n. 2, 127 n. 235, 128 n. 246, 135, 339 rent in Aixone lease 64 in kind collected on Euboea 84 n. 30 in kind to Diodotus 92 in lease of sacred properties on Euboea 90 tax calculated on the basis of 105–6, 113–14 to Athenian cleruchs generally 98–9, 103 to Athenian cleruchs on Lesbos 94–5 retailers, see kapeloi

Rhamnous 37 n. 1, 79, decree from theatre at 72 fortifications at 100–2, 119–21, 123, 129, 134 land-lease from 328 Rhodes 122 n. 215, 341 rivers, see streams Rostovtzeff, Michael on Bosporan ethnicity 150, 155 n. 56, 167–8 on interpretation of GrecoScythian art 193, 195–6 on Pericles’ Pontic expedition 165 n. 112 on unique nature of Bosporan monarchy 172, 181, 185 n. 203 Salamis; see also Boudoron archon on 102, n. 121 not included in Cleisthenic system 116 n. 174 patrolled by Athenian fleet 135 n. 291, 340 precedent in cleruchic organization 102–3, 106, 114, 140–1, 309, 320, 339 Salamis (Cypriot) 254, 294, 295 n. 430, 309, 336, 341 Sallares, Robert 8–9, 10, 12–14, 24–7 Salmydessus 191 Samos; see also cleruchies Council of 250 at 94–5, 98 n. 100 Egyptian trade and 341 the Four Hundred and 123–4, 126, 246–7 tyranny of Polycrates compared to Athenian democracy 306

General Index Sargent, Rachel Louisa 29–30 Sarmatians 168 n. 122, 201 Saronic gulf 39, 122–4 Satyrus I (ruler of Bosporus) alliances and wars 174 , 176, 180–1 Bosporan aristocracy and 179–80, 187–9 Bosporan coinage and 183–5 expansionism of 174 in Athenian rhetoric 268, 303 merchants and 178–9 on Taman relief 190 n. 236 relations with Athens and Nymphaeum 174–6, 177, 188–9, 270 titulature 170, 183–5 Satyrus II (king of Bosporus) 171, 178, 190 n. 235 Sciathos 132 Scyles (Scythian king) 148–9, 153–5 Scyros; see also s.v. cleruchies population of 111–12 ‘‘Scythian protectorate’’ 153–5, 160, 162 Scythians; see also Anacharsis; kurgans; Scyles archers 102 n. 119, 228, 256 art of 151, 193 burial 182, 202 conflict with 153–61, 190–1, 304 n. 469 culture reconstructed iconographically 193–4 Demosthenes as 222 n. 56, 254 n. 216 Ephoran tradition on 194–206


grain production for Greeks 161–2 Herodotus’ interest in 146–8 in Athenian iconography 265–6 in Bosporan armies 178 interaction with Greek culture 147–53, 159–61, 167–80, 182 ‘‘ploughmen’’ 162 Spartocid interest in 192–206 ‘‘xenophobia’’ of 148–9, 153 Second Athenian League 80, 302, 318–9 seed:yield ratio 6–7, 9, 10, 26–7 self-sufficiency (autarky) Athens ‘‘the most self-sufficient of poleis’’ 306 in new orthodoxy 4, 315 in Periclean strategy 299 intensive agriculture and 58, 63 reached in Athens 4, 312, 323 Sestos 296 n. 432, 339 Seuthes, hyparchos of Cersobleptes 188 Seuthes (Thracian king) 254 n. 217 shipowners (naukleroi) Athenian politicians and 213, 221, 242–9, 257–8, 277–9 at Piraeus 124 in Bosporus 179 ‘‘outside’’ Athenian politics 281, 284–5, 289–92, 294 ships, merchant control and protection of 118, 319–20, 335, 340 documentation in 206 n. 292 loss or seizure of 124, 161, 207 n. 298, 219, 275, 290–1, 337–8, 340–1 payload of 108, 207


General Index

ships, merchant (cont.) tax and 103 n. 127, 104 n. 131, 167, 341 wrecks 191, 284 n. 351 shortage (of grain or food) Athenian politicians and 236 defined 311 n. 6; see also famine frequency in Athens, according to Garnsey 311 n. 8, 313 n. 22 in the late-fourth century 304 n. 469, 307 infrequency in Athens 310–11 intervention by Leucon in 32 n. 185 private benefactions during 290 n. 387, 294 Sicily ager Leontinus in 9, 26–7 Andocides and 245 n. 171 Athenian expedition to (415–413 BC) 80, 98, 126, 136 n. 296, 142–3, 340, Isocrateans from 295 thalassocracy and 126–7 trade with 179 n. 179, 285 n. 358, 288–9, 292–3, 302–3, 323, 342 tyrants and political institutions of 172 n. 145, 185 n. 203, 246, 295 n. 430, 303, 305, 306 n. 479, 320 Sidon 303 n. 465; see also Phoenicia Sigeion 140–1, 144, 165, 339 silver, see Laurium Sinope 143, 155, 164–5, 179 n. 179, 337 sitikon emporion (grain market) 49 n. 48, 314, 334–5; see also market sitones (grain controller) 294, 335 sitonia, see sitones sitos, see barley; wheat

Skydsgaard, Jens Erik; see Isager, Signe and Skydsgaard, Jens Erik slaves; see s.v. labour Smith, Adam 237–8, 258 n. 231 Socrates (Athenian philosopher) Eutherus and 93 Glaucon and 250, 252, 302 Ischomachus and 20–2 on gluttony18 n. 96 on Scythians 204 on slave numbers 112 n. 160 soil; see also fertilizers; ploughing exhaustion 5, 8, 14–5, 17, 327 marks 56 n. 76 on Euboea 82 n. 13, 84 poverty of in Attica 9, 11–12, 28, 45–6 terraces and 54, 64 Solokha; see s.v. kurgans Solon (Athenian lawgiver) Athenian law and courts and 217, 276 Athenian measures and 325–6 Athenian wealth classes and 95 n. 88, 104–6 cleruchic taxation and 104–6, 114, 140, 309, reforms of 105, 141, 312–14, 319–20, 334, Sopaios (Bosporan noble) and (anonymous) son 175, 177, 178–80, 187–9, 222, 256 Sosis, Spartocid envoy 189, 262–4 Sparta aristocratic ethos and 266, 295 n. 430 colonizes Heracleia in Trachis 135–6, 340 Cythera and 127 Egyptian trade and 341 given Egyptian grain 323, 341

General Index governed like the gods 203 grain consumption 32 n. 184 grain interceptions and 219, 338 in Euboean revolt (411 bc) 122, 124, 126, 136 in Persian Wars 146, 204, 277 medimnos 323 n. 53 Messenia and 320 Pylos and 127–30 Thirty Years’ Peace with 299 Spartocid dynasty; see also Bosporus; Leucon; Paerisades; Satyrus; Spartocus I-III accession 155–6, 165 n. 112, 167–9 as ‘‘Athenian’’ 303–6, 319 as paradeigmata 203, 309 assimilated to Sicilian tyrants and gods 172 n. 145, 203–4 bodyguard of 178 Bosporan elite and 168, 171, 175–6, 177, 179–81, 188–206 contact with Athenian elite 146, 175–6, 177, 192–206, 254–5 ethnicity 167–8 mercenary and Scythian troops 167–8, 170, 178, 184 merchants and 178–9, 189 titulature 155 n. 52, 170–4, 181–5, 255, 261, 266 Spartocus I (king of Bosporus) 165 n. 112, 168 n. 122, 170, 177 Spartocus II (king of Bosporus) 171–2, 177, 189, 190 n. 236, 260–70, 338 Spartocus III (king of Bosporus) 171, 176, 177 Sphettos 41, 95, 290 Standort 48, 72


starvation, see famine stone clearance of 51–2, 57 field boundaries of 55, 313 in construction of forts 130–1, 138 n. 308 in fourth-century kurgans 180, 182 lining cisterns and pits 138, 187 mounds (Steinhu¨gel, wrongly called Grabhu¨gel) 42 n. 11, 51 on Hymettus 45 n. 29 terrace-walls of 54 n. 66, 56 n. 76 Strato (king of Sidon) 303 n. 465, 341 Stratocles (Bosporan aristocrat) 185 Stratonicus (Athenian cytharode) 191–2 streams 44–5, 55, 57, 69, 71, 83 subsistence agriculture 5– 6, 56 –8, 76; see also selfsufficiency substantivism 4–5, 243 Sunium Atene survey near 39 n. 4 settlement layout of 69 n. 144 in Decelean War 117–25 slipways at 132 n. 261 farmsteads near 140 Rhamnous land-lease from 328 road from Athens to 42 n. 12, 44, 49, 51 survey archaeology 23, 38–9 Atene 72 Bosporan 186 Euboean 102, 129–39 of land in census (1961) 13 Syracuse 98, 121, 136 n. 296, 179 n. 179, 185 n. 203, 245 n. 171,


General Index

Syracuse (cont.) 289, 292–3, 295 n. 430, 303, 305, 306 n. 479, 320, 340; see also Sicily Taganrog 152, 154, 162 Taman 152, 158 n. 75, 160, 163, 176 agricultural settlements in 162–3 relief with two warriors 190 n. 236 Tanais 187 n. 213 Taurians 179 Tauric Chersonesus 179 n. 179, 321 tax; see also s.v.v. dodekate, emporoi; Euboea; friendship; Hymettus; metics; pentekoste; Piraeus; rent; ships; Solon cleruchic 92–3, 102–15, 309, 320 collectors 104, 107–9, 113, 188, 212, 248 n. 190, 256–7, 269 n. 269, 273–4, 276 n. 326, 279 commercial privileges involving 53, 73–4, 92, 99, 107, 110, 166, 189, 191, 206, 224, 253, 268, 280 n. 341, 304, 336, 341 Teleutias (Spartan general) 124, 338 Tenedos 283 n. 350, 338 Teos 228, 334 terraces agricultural degradation and 46 n. 34 alleged non-existence 13 n. 68, 56 n. 77 dating criteria and vocabulary for 56 n. 77 grave 49, 51 n. 57 in and near Euonymon 13, 42 n. 11, 52, 53–8, 60, 64–5, 71, 73 in new orthodoxy 5 manpower for building 59 n. 91 olive monoculture on 65 n. 122 Solon’s regulation of 313

territoriality Athenian 305–6, 309, 321 Bosporan 172, 174, 180 Crimean 321 defence and 139 deme 48–9, 69–71 thalassocracy (rule of the sea) 77, 98 n. 103, 126–9, 142, 165–7, 299 Thateoi 171 Themakos 39, 41 Theodosia exiles at 168, 180 n. 182 in Spartocid titulature 170–3, 182–3 necropolis of 160, 168 port and land of 176 n. 165, 187–8, 207, 244 Spartocids and 155 n. 52, 174, 176, 180 n. 182 Theodosius, Spartocid envoy 189, 262–4 Theophrastus (philosopher) Athenian rhetoric and 224–5, 284, 298 n. 443 beekeeping 68 on agriculture 7–8, 12 n. 58, 15–17, 20–4, 327 on Euboea 82 n. 13 Theopropides (agonothetes) 185 Theramenes 123–5, 295 n. 430 Thessaly 8, 17, 42 n. 10, 83, 245 n. 171, 315 n. 26 Thiessen polygon 41–2, 60, 70 Thirty Tyrants 217, 267, 274, 277 Thirty Years’ Peace 299 Thoricus 120–5 Thrasybulus 222, 255, 302, 338 Thriasian Plain 13, 37 n. 1, 46 Thucydides (historian) antipathy towards the Four Hundred 122–6

General Index on Athenian casualties 30 on cleruchs 98–9 on Euboea 80–1, 97, 99, 117–26 on forts 127–36 on Lesbos 94, 166 on Oropus 91 n. 68, 117 on the nature of the Athenian Empire 142, 299, 317 selectivity of 100 n. 114, 121, 123, 126 n. 231 thyme 68 Timesileus (tyrant of Sinope) 155, 337 Timocrates (Athenian demagogue) 177, 248 n. 190 attacked by Demosthenes 252, 253 n. 207, 257 n. 230, 269–70, 275–8, 293 Timotheus (Athenian general) borrowing by 278 n. 333, 281–3 elite connections of 175–6, 177, 254 n. 217, 269–70, 278–9, 281–3, 295–7 military achievements of 192, 296, 339 trade and 281–3, 297 n. 439 Tirgatao (Maiotian princess) 174 n. 152, 176 n. 167 Tolmides 96, 142, 299–300 Tolstikov, Vladimir 156–60, 168 n. 124, 190 Toretoi 170–1, 173, Trachones; see also Euonymon assignation of various demes to 50–1, 70 n. 147 earliest settlement 43–4 finds in Piraeus Museum 47 n. 39 Geroulanos family 47, 60–2 Helleniko Airport near 42, 53–4, 71


history of the property 47–8, 60–3, 65–6, 68 location 40, 41, 42 name 51–3 removal of finds to the property 47–9 self-sufficient 61, 64 soil 46 topography of the modern neighbourhood 53–4, 56 Traders, see emporoi; kapeloi treaties inter-state (symbola) 288 of Dicaeopolis 74 Peace of Nicias 100 n. 114 Thirty Years’ Peace 299 trade and 219 with Bosporus 189 tribute Athenian Empire and 164, 166, 234–5, 301 Bosporan 187–8 cleruchies and 94–5, 96 n. 91, 99, 318 of Charmides 92 Persian 226 Scythian 155 n. 52 Venetian 88 Tribute Lists, see tribute Tu