Sidelights on Greek Antiquity: Archaeological and Epigraphical Essays in Honour of Vasileios Petrakos 3110699095, 9783110699098

Table of contents :
Preface
Contents
List of Figures
Tabula Gratulatoria
Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology • Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos
Part I: Epigraphy and Ancient History
Thucydides, Historical Geography and the ‘Lost Years’ of Perdikkas II • Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos
Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods • Kevin Clinton
De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie • Denis Knoepfler
Φυτωνυμικά τοπωνύμια Κωμών της Αργολίδος • Charalampos B. Kritzas
Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques • Dominique Mulliez
Προξενικό ψήφισμα από την Αιτωλία • Nikolaos Kaltsas
Women’s Religion in Hellenistic Athens • Robert Parker
Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period • Michael J. Osborne
“Those who Jointly Built the City”. Epigraphic Sources for the Urban Development of Aphrodisias • Angelos Chaniotis
Part II: Archaeology
Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone • Joseph Maran
Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach • Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos
Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence • Emanuele Greco
Das Volutenkapitell aus Sykaminos • Manolis Korres
Dionysos Lenaios at Rhamnous. Lenaia ἐν ἀγροῖς and the “Lenaia vases” • Michalis Tiverios
Philoktet in Attika • Theodosia Stefanidou-Tiveriou
Part III: History of Greek Archaeology
Peiraieus in 1805 • John McK. Camp II
Karl Otfried Müller in Marathon, Rhamnus und Oropos. Aus seinen Reiseaufzeichnungen von 1840 • Klaus Fittschen
Spyridon Marinatos and Carl Blegen at Pylos: A Happy Collaboration • Jack L. Davis
Vassilis Petrakos et les fouilles suisses d’Érétrie • Pierre Ducrey
List of Contributors
Index of Epigraphical Texts
Index Locorum
Index of Mythological Names
Index of Geographic Names
Index of Ancient Personal Names
Index Rerum
Index of Modern Personal Names

Citation preview

Sidelights on Greek Antiquity

Sidelights on Greek Antiquity Archaeological and Epigraphical Essays in Honour of Vasileios Petrakos Edited by Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos, Dora Vassilikou and Michalis Tiverios

ISBN 978-3-11-069909-8 e-ISBN (PDF) 978-3-11-069932-6 e-ISBN (EPUB) 978-3-11-069940-1 Library of Congress Control Number: 2021930704 Bibliographic information published by the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliografie; detailed bibliographic data are available on the Internet at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2021 Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston Cover image: Drawing by Friedrich Neise, “Bey Rhamnus (1 Jul. 1840)”, from the chapter by Prof. K. Fittschen (Fig. 4), © Archäologisches Institut, Georg-August-University Göttingen, Germany. Printing and binding: CPI books GmbH, Leck www.degruyter.com

Preface The present volume is a collection of 19 papers from prominent scholars around the world, invited by the editors to honour Vasileios Petrakos’ many and significant accomplishments regarding the study of the material world of ancient Greek culture, collectively termed “Greek antiquity”. The occasion was the celebration of the 60th anniversary since the honoree’s first visit to Rhamnous (north-east Attica) on the 10 December 1959, a visit which led to the initiation of Petrakos’ major field project, one that has transformed our picture of Attic demes and greatly increased our understanding of Attica, especially during the Classical, Hellenistic and Roman periods. The papers are organised thematically, by the types of major scientific contributions Petrakos has made to the study of Greek antiquities: these are of three kinds. First, he revealed, published and interpreted hundreds of new inscriptions, especially from border sites on both sides of the south Euboean Gulf, such as Eretria, Oropos and Rhamnous. Second, he conducted fundamental archaeological field work on several regions of the Greek Mainland (Attica, Euboea and Phocis) and the Aegean islands (Lesbos), where he brought to light, published and discussed a huge number of non-inscribed monuments and objects. Third, and in addition to his fundamental epigraphical and non-epigraphical archaeological work, Petrakos also made important contributions to the historiography of Greek archaeology, where he established a new framework for the systematic study of the history of Greek archaeology. The book is, thus, structured in three parts: Epigraphy and Ancient History (part 1), Archaeology (part 2) and History of Greek Archaeology (part 3). Within each part the papers are arranged in chronological order. The contributions cover the honoree’s favoured topics and periods, both reflecting the breadth of Petrakos’ interests as well as his holistic methodological approach (a significant combination of text-oriented classical skills with the competencies of a field archaeologist, aimed at reconstructing ancient life in all its manifestations), and demonstrating the great influence he wielded in Greek Epigraphy, Ancient History, and Archaeology as well as in the Historiography of Greek Archaeology. First, though, Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos reflects on Petrakos’s career and provides a resume of the honoree’s significant contributions to Greek Archaeology. The nine “Epigraphy and Ancient History” papers (part 1) cover a wide range of issues and geographical areas, extending chronologically from 5th century BC to the Roman period and geographically from ancient Macedonia in the north to Argos to the south and from Molykreion in the west to Aphrodisias to the east. The article of Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos emphasizes the value of Historical Geography and Epigraphy in reconstructing the military events taking place in ancient Macedonia shortly before the beginning of the Peloponnesian war. Contrary to those focused exclusively https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-202

VI  Preface on texts (here the famous passage 1.57.3–1.63. from the first book of Thucydides), Hatzopoulos’ analysis introduces certain additions and revisions of the until-now proposed set of events related to the revolt of Poteidaia and to the first years of the reign of Perdikas II. Next, based on an analysis of ancient sources of the Classical period, on what is known about the structure of the Eleusinian ritual and on the results of the American excavations in the Sanctuary of the Great Gods on Samothrace, Kevin Clinton suggests that the Korybantic ritual might have played an important role in Samothrace’s mystery cult, most probably as a preliminary initiation of a purificatory character. In the third contribution Charalampos B. Kritzas, taking as a starting point the fact that the place name “Rhamnous”, to which the honoree dedicated a great part of his life, was named after the plant “rhamnos”, offers a dataset of twelve phytonymic place names from the territory of Argos dated to the 4th century BC, based on evidence from the ancient literature and on important new information revealed through the inscribed bronze tablets of the recently found early 4th century BC archive of the Sanctuary of Pallas Athena in the city of Argos. He discusses specific plant species common through the territory and on the possible location of these place names within the territory of Argos. Denis Knoepfler and Dominique Mulliez deal with epigraphical material from Eretria and Delphi respectively, both sites where Petrakos spent several years conducting research. Knoepfler emphasizes the historical aspect of a fascinating corpus of epitaphs for foreigners from the maritime city of Eretria (non-Eretrians), which first became known in 1968 and 1974 in two publications of the honoree. Among them are epitaphs preserving the names of cities now completely lost, such as Eudaristos in Paeonia. Mulliez draws our attention to the phenomenon of private arbitration as it is seen through the study of the Delphi inscriptions, including a corpus on private arbitration in ten Delphic manumissions to show that such occurred only within the framework of a paramone clause. Nikolaos Kaltsas reports on a new proxeny decree discovered in 2007 at the sanctuary at Elliniko near Velvina (Molykreion), dating possibly to the end of the 3rd century BC. This should be understood as a public expression of the political and diplomatic culture of the Aetolian League. Robert Parker and Michael J. Osborne return us to one of Petrakos’ main areas of research: the study of the institutions of the Athenian city state during the Hellenistic period. According to Parker the choice of the gender of a priest/priestess is not due to reasons of any political nature but depends on the character of the relevant religious site and should be rather traced far back in time, maybe even to the Mycenaean period. He distinguishes, therefore, between a “patriarchal worship”, in which the male head of the community performs rites to propitiate a god, like Nestor to Athena in the Odyssey (one could even ponder here about the rites conducted by the wanax within the Mycenaean throne room with the central hearth), and a “temple worship”, where an individual would have conducted religious rites. In this case a priestess would have been appropriate for performing rites involving women or a goddess. Michael J. Osborne focuses on the phenomenon of granting Athenian citizenship to a foreigner during the Late Hellenistic period, the time when Athens

Preface  VII

became more open in its attitude to foreign residents. He argues that a significant benefaction was no longer necessary for these new citizens, as in earlier times. For the sons of wealthy and cultured foreigners service on the ephebate may well have become an indirect pathway to citizenship. Finally, Angelos Chaniotis explores an honorific formula specific to the Roman elite of Aphrodisias, referring to their descent as “synktisantes” or “synektikotes” (those who jointly built the city). Combining the evidence of epigraphy and field archaeology, Chaniotis is able to show that the formula possibly refers to an epidosis, a promise by their families to contribute financially to the building projects of the city in the future. Part 2 (“Archaeology”) presents six papers, five of which refer to Petrakos’ principal region of archaeological investigation: Attica. The contributions range chronologically from the Chalcolithic to the Roman period. Prehistoric Attica is represented by Joseph Maran and Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos. Joseph Maran provides an impressive overview of the earliest appearance of silver objects in many regions, covering the whole geographical area between the Carpathian basin and the Balkans in the north-west and the Iranian highlands in the south-east. Hereby he succeeds in showing that the repeated claim by several scholars that silver was not produced and used in the Aegean before the beginning of the 3rd millennium BC is incorrect. As far as Attica is concerned the exploitation of the lead/silver ore deposits that dominated silver production in classical Greece seem to have played a special role already during the Chalcolithic period. Kalogeropoulos explores cultural variation and regional diversity in the archaeological record of Mycenaean Attica. In contrast to previous studies, the review of internal cultural expression (e.g. funerary and domestic architecture, settlement geography, pottery production etc.) and interrelationships within this region is here presented within a framework of controlled comparison. Twenty rational and practical geographical units are defined for this reason, termed ‘mesoregions’. This method allows him to offer a more accurate diachronic cultural development of Mycenaean Attica. The main aim of Emanuele Greco’s contribution, which comes next, is to ask whether the archaeological material of funerary character of the Archaic period found in the agoras of the Greek colonies justifies the modern perception, based largely on (later) literary sources, of being, as with Athens, places where the founder of each of these apoikiai received heroic honours. The article contains six representative case studies from Sicily (Gela, Megara Hyblaea, Selinunte), Magna Graecia (Poseidonia), Libya (Cyrene) and Caria (Iasos) which illustrate well the complex picture of the archaeological data, as well as the hypothetical character of such assumptions. The use of mythological material from literary sources for the identification of hero cults is at present possible only in two cases, namely in the worship of Theseus in Athens and also in the case of the grave of Battus I in Cyrene. Greco’s careful study demonstrates the need for a more rigorous methodological research. Manolis Korres presents an exhaustive analysis of a large-scale Ionic capital of Cycladic character with ascending

VIII  Preface Aeolic volutes (Athens NM 4797) found 60 years ago by the honoree at Sykaminos (Oropos). His analysis helps in appreciating the type and design of this early capital (dated about 550–540 BC) which is generally considered as important for the understanding of the development of the Ionic order. Korres compares it with the Parian capital of the Museum of Paros (Paros Museum 775) and suggests that the capital had initially an ornamental function supporting a sphinx with her head turning to the capital’s front. Michalis Tiverios investigates the performance of Dionysiac cult in Rhamnous, Petrakos’ main research site, during the late Archaic and Classical period. Combining archaeological evidence brought to light by the honoree (e.g. evidence for theatrical performances, choregic dedications, the presence of an early classical clay mask and a stamnos), contemporary iconographical evidence (Lenaian vase-paintings), ancient sources and epigraphical finds, Tiverios argues for the existence of a specific religious ritual practice in Rhamnous, performed exclusively by female ritual participants for Dionysos Lenaios and makes the interesting point that this ritual could have involved the rite of the purification of must. Finally, Theodosia Stefanidou-Tiveriou’s article deals with a most interesting marble relief found relatively recently within a fountain in Merenta (ancient deme of Myrrhinous) near a sanctuary: it depicts the myth of Philoctetes together with Odysseus and Diomedes and dates to 140–160 AD. Her analysis shows that the theme of the relief follows a classicizing version of an older composition, while its water symbolism seems to have been deliberately chosen to suit the decoration of a semi-underground fountain in this deme. Part 3 (“The History of Greek Archaeology”) presents four papers related not only to different regions and periods but also to different legal, political, and ethical frameworks in which the protection, uncovering and publication of Greek Antiquities has taken place. The first two articles concern the early efforts of two European scholars of the first half of the 19th century to document Attic antiquities, while the other two highlight the significance of the collaboration between Greek and foreign archaeologists during the 1950s and 1960s for the benefit of Greek Archaeology in the specific cases of Pylos and Eretria. John McK. Camp II publishes and discusses seven drawings executed by the British scholar Edward Dodwell and the Italian artist Simone Pomardi, depicting monuments and their surrounding landscape in the Athenian port of Piraeus (Petrakos’ birthplace) when staying there in May 1805. Hereby, Camp demonstrates the importance of these drawings not only as a means of documenting and identifying well-known monuments such as the tomb of Themistocles and the Cononian fortification wall or the surprising desolation of Piraeus in 1805, but also as containing evidence for ancient remains no longer surviving, such as the ancient monuments near the harbour of Zea depicted in two of Pomardi’s illustrations or for the conducting of an, otherwise unknown, excavation of a cemetery of the classical period near the port of Zea. Klaus Fittschen as well presents hitherto unknown notes:

Preface  IX

in his case those of Karl Otfried Müller of Göttingen, one of the most important scholars of ancient Greece of his generation, compiled during Müller´s four day-stay in the area of Marathon, Rhamnous and Oropos (the main research area of Petrakos) in July 1840 on his way to Delphi. In this article, Fittschen includes also eleven drawings of ancient monuments and landscapes related to these three sites by Friedrich Neise, a young draughtsman, who accompanied Müller on his travels. Of particular interest for Fittschen is Müller’s observation of vehicle ruts between the castle of Rhamnous and the Nemesis sanctuary, where Petrakos has, interestingly, identified a 6 m-wide ancient road. Jack L. Davis uses unpublished archive material to explore the relationship between two important Aegean prehistorians, a Greek and an American, who influenced greatly Greek Archaeology for more than five decades: Spyridon Marinatos and Carl W. Blegen. Hereby he highlights the significance of a noble and harmonious collaboration between the two, especially during the 1950s and 1960s, the period when both cooperated in Messenia for the benefit of Messenian antiquities (e.g. for the protection of the Palace of Nestor). The final paper is by Pierre Ducrey and constitutes a fitting end to a Festschrift for Vasileios Petrakos. According to Ducrey the use of Petrakos’ archaeological paradigm of the early 1960s in Eretria proved to be very beneficial for the Greco-Swiss excavations at this coastal Euboean site, while his fundamental ideas on archaeological legislation, protection, restoration and publication of Greek antiquities played an important role in the development of the later scientific work of the Swiss Archaeological School in Athens. The editors extend their sincere thanks to all authors who have submitted their papers, without which of course the Festschrift could not have been compiled at all. The editors invited those international contributors who have either collaborated with the honoree in the past or whose work has had an impact in one of the three areas in which the honoree has focused his own research interests. Many thanks also go to all involved for their good work and exceptional patience in helping us with the proofreading of the English, German and French texts (Doniert Evely, Ulrike Schulz and Marina Toulgaridou respectively), with the House Style work (Annika Busching) and with the Indexes (Orestis Goulakos). Denis Knoepfler generously supported the publication financially. Our special thanks go to him. The editors are also grateful to Antonios Rengakos for having actively supported the idea of publishing the Festschrift in the Editing House of De Gruyter. But above all many thanks to Vasileios Petrakos for being for so many years such a constant support and inspiring mentor, friend and colleague. Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Dora Vassilikou Michalis Tiverios

Contents Preface  V List of Figures  XII Tabula Gratulatoria  XIX Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  XXIII

Part I: Epigraphy and Ancient History Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos Thucydides, Historical Geography and the ‘Lost Years’ of Perdikkas II  3 Kevin Clinton Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods  17 Denis Knoepfler De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  45 Charalampos B. Kritzas Φυτωνυμικά τοπωνύμια Κωμών της Αργολίδος  103 Dominique Mulliez Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques  117 Nikolaos Kaltsas Προξενικό ψήφισμα από την Αιτωλία  137 Robert Parker Women’s Religion in Hellenistic Athens  145 Michael J. Osborne Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period  159 Angelos Chaniotis “Those who Jointly Built the City”. Epigraphic Sources for the Urban Development of Aphrodisias  179

XII  Contents

Part II: Archaeology Joseph Maran Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone  197 Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  227 Emanuele Greco Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence  299 Manolis Korres Das Volutenkapitell aus Sykaminos  321 Michalis Tiverios Dionysos Lenaios at Rhamnous. Lenaia ἐν ἀγροῖς and the “Lenaia vases”  359 Theodosia Stefanidou-Tiveriou Philoktet in Attika  383

Part III: History of Greek Archaeology John McK. Camp II Peiraieus in 1805  411 Klaus Fittschen Karl Otfried Müller in Marathon, Rhamnus und Oropos. Aus seinen Reiseaufzeichnungen von 1840  423 Jack L. Davis Spyridon Marinatos and Carl Blegen at Pylos: A Happy Collaboration  441 Pierre Ducrey Vassilis Petrakos et les fouilles suisses d’Érétrie  451 List of Contributors  465 Index of Epigraphical Texts  469 Index Locorum  477 Index of Mythological Names  483 Index of Geographic Names  485 Index of Ancient Personal Names  499 Index Rerum  505 Index of Modern Personal Names  515

List of Figures Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos, “Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology” Fig. 1: Vasileios Petrakos, Epigraphist Archaeologist and Historiographer of Greek Archaeology. Secretary General of the Archaeological Society at Athens and of the Academy of Athens. Photo 2009: Courtesy of D. Vassilikou.  XIV Fig. 2: Vasileios Petrakos, while lecturing in the Great Hall of the Archaeological Society at Athens. To the right the bust of Alexandros Rizos Rangavis, first Secretary General of the Society. Photo 2006: Courtesy of D. Vassilikou.  XXXV Fig. 3: Angelos Delivorrias (right) congratulating Vasileios Petrakos (left) on becoming member of the Academy of Athens. Photo 2000: Courtesy of D. Vassilikou.  XLVIII Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos, “Thucydides, Historical Geography and the ‘Lost Years’ of Perdikkas II” Fig. 1: Map showing Athenian Possessions in the Macedonian Region according to ATL I (1939).  9 Fig. 2: Map showing the Macedonian Region at the Beginning of the Peloponnesian War (map: M.B. Hatzopoulos).  9 Kevin Clinton, “Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods” Fig. 1: Restored Sketch Plan of the Sanctuary of the Great Gods in the First Century A.D. as of 2016. Drawing: American Excavations, Samothrace.  39 Denis Knoepfler, “De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie” Fig. 1: Stèle pour une Thébaine (Petrakos 1968, 111 n° 75). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  84 Fig. 2: Stèle pour un Thébain (IG XII 9, 790). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  85 Fig. 3: Stèle pour un Péonien (Petrakos 1968, 111 n° 75). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Ackermann).  85 Fig. 4: Stèle pour un Agriane (IG XII Suppl. 629). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  86 Fig. 5: Épitaphe perdue pour un Sapéen (IG XII 9, 795, fac-similé du corpus).  86 Fig. 6a-b: Stèle en deux fragments pour un Thrace (trouvaille inédite de l’auteur). Musée d’Érétrie (photos D. Knoepfler: estampage en 1981, pierre en 2019).  87 Fig. 7a: Stèle pour une Thrace (IG XII 9, 813). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  88 Fig. 7b: Stèle pour une Thrace (Petrakos 1968, 110 no 74). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  89 Fig. 8: Stèle pour une esclave (?) dénommée Thratta (Fouilles ESAG 1977). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  90 Fig. 9: Stèle remployée pour un Étolien (Petrakos 1968, 109 n° 64). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  91 Fig. 10: Stèle pour un Perse (Petrakos 1968, 102 n° 7). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  92 Fig. 11: Stèle pour un Mysien (Petrakos 1974, 103 n° 18 = SEG XXVII 588). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  93 Fig. 12: Stèle pour une Béotienne (Petrakos 1968, 108 n° 52). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  94 Fig. 13: Stèle pour un Alexandrin (Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 69). Musée d’Érétrie. (photo D. Ackermann).  95 https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-204

XIV  List of Figures Fig. 14: Stèle pour un Thessalien (Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 69). Musée d’Érétrie (estampage, photo D. Knoepfler).  95 Fig. 15: Stèle fragmentaire pour un Magnète (trouvaille inédite de l’auteur). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  96 Fig. 16: Fragment de stèle (Petrakos 1968, 113 n° 92). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler ; voir aussi la fig. suivante).  96 Fig. 17: Stèle pour un Crétois (IG XII 9, 839). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  97 Fig. 18: Stèle pour une Crétoise (IG XII 9, 323). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  98 Fig. 19: Stèle inédite pour une femme d’Ambracie. Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  99 Fig. 20: Fragment de stèle (Petrakos 1968, 112 n° 87). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler ; voir aussi la fig. suivante).  100 Fig. 21: Stèle perdue pour un habitant d’Amorgos (IG XII 9, 799, fac-similé du corpus).  100 Fig. 22: Stèle pour un poète de Naples (SEG LVII 829). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Knoepfler).  101 Fig. 23: Stèle perdue pour un Crétois de Kydonia au-lieu dit Plakakia (photo P. Simon, ESAG).  102 Nikolaos Kaltsas, “Προξενικό ψήφισμα από την Αιτωλία” Fig. 1: Μολύκρειο. Χάλκινο ενεπίγραφο έλασμα με ψήφισμα του Κοινού των Αιτωλών. Copyright: Νικόλαος Καλτσάς.  137 Angelos Chaniotis, “Those Who Jointly Built the City”. Epigraphic Sources for the Urban Development of Aphrodisias Fig. 1: Honorific inscription for Hermogenes, SEG LIV 1020. Photo: A. Chaniotis.  182 Fig. 2: Plan of Aphrodisias. Aphrodisias Archive/New York University.  183 Fig. 3: Orthostate block on the east wall of the Temple of Aphrodite inscribed with a list of names and erased in Late Antiquity. Photo: A. Chaniotis.  185 Fig. 4: Detail of the erased list of names on an orthostate block on the east wall of the Temple of Aphrodite. Photo: A. Chaniotis.  186 Fig. 5: The Sebasteion of Aphrodisias (South Building, Propylon, and North Building). Photo: A. Chaniotis (2018).  187 Fig. 6: Lintel of a shrine of Zeus Patroios and Zeus Spaloxios with a dedicatory inscription (early 1st cent. CE), SEG LX 1079. Photo: A. Chaniotis.  188 Fig. 7: Honorific inscription for Myon Eusebes Philopatris mentioning the construction of the Baths of the Gerousia, (early 1st cent. CE). Photo: Aphrodisias Archive/New York University.  188 Fig. 8: Fragment of a building inscription mentioning sponsors of the Baths, unpublished. Photo: A. Chaniotis.  190 Joseph Maran, “Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone” Fig. 1: Early silver objects from Greece. 1–7 Alepotrypa cave (Mani Peninsula); 8 Amnissos (Crete); 9–10 Peristeria “Cave of Euripides” (Salamis); 11 Tsepi (Attica), Grave 19. 1–10 redrawn by M. Kostoula after Dimakopoulou 1998, 64f. nos. 62–66; 11 after Pantelidou-Gofa 2005, pl. 21, 7 (courtesy of M. Pantelidou-Gofa). Scale 2 : 3.  223 Fig. 2: Silver discs with three bosses. 1 Štramberk (Czech Republic); 2 Vanovice (Czech Republic). 1– 2 redrawn by M. Kostoula after Lichter 2010, 383 no. 353 and Malach/Štrof 2013, 22 fig. 5. Scale 1 : 3.  224 Fig. 3: Silver twin ring pendants. 1–2 Tiszalúc-Sarkad (Hungary), Grave B2. Photography courtesy of L. Szende, Hungarian National Museum Budapest. Scale 1 : 1.  225

List of Figures  XV

Fig. 4: Silver bracelet and beads. 1–2 Haramiyskata cave (Bulgaria). 1–2 after Borislavov/Vălčanova 2017a, 16 (courtesy of H. Vălčanova and B. Borislavov). Scale ca. 2 : 3.  225 Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos, “Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach” Fig. 1: Locations of most important Mycenaean Sites in Attica mentioned in text. Map: V. Antoniadis.  228 Fig. 2: Map of Attica indicating the proposed 20 mesoregions. Map: V. Antoniadis.  232 Fig. 3: Map showing mesoregion 4: the main area of the Athenian Plain and Mounichia. Map: V. Antoniadis.  236 Emanuele Greco, “Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence” Fig. 1: Gela. Attic kylix with dedication to Antiphemus (from Orsi 1900).  304 Fig. 2: Cyrene. The heroon of Battus (from Stucchi 1965).  308 Fig. 3: Megara Hyblaea. Plan of the heroon in the Archaic Agora (from Vallet/Villard/Auberson 1976).  309 Fig. 4: Selinous. Plan of the agora (from Mertens 2012b).  311 Fig. 5: Iasos. Plan of the Agora in Roman times (from Donati 1999).  312 Fig. 6: Poseidonia. The ‘heroon’ in the Late Archaic Agora (photo: E. Greco).  314 Manolis Korres, “Das Volutenkapitell aus Sykaminos” Fig. 1: EAM 4797, Front mit konvexen Volutenstreifen (photo M. Korres, 2019)  344 Fig. 2: Senkrechte Projektion einer flachen oder konischen Spirale (Hek). Flache Spirale (He). Konische Spirale (Hk).  344 Fig. 3: Ausrichtungen von Spiralen.  345 Fig. 4: Visuelle Wahrnehmung von Spiralen.  345 Fig. 5a: Varianten von Volutenspiralen bzw. Volutenstegen.  346 Fig. 5b: Varianten von Volutenstreifen. 346 Fig. 6: Voluten-Profilierung in verschiedenen Kombinationen.  346 Fig. 7: Verarbeitungsstufen am Beispiel des Kapitells aus Sykaminos: Umarbeitung des im Steinbruch erzeugten Rohlings. Isometrie 1 : 10.  347 Fig. 8: Verarbeitungsstufen am Beispiel des Kapitells aus Sykaminos: Feine Zurichtung der Lehren auf der Lagerfläche und den Frontflächen für eine erste genaue Definition der Achsen und der Referenz-Ebenen. Isometrie 1 : 10.  347 Fig. 9a: Oben: Verarbeitungsstufen am Beispiel des Kapitells aus Sykaminos: Einritzen von Kreisen bzw. Kreisteilen. Wegschneiden der überschüssigen Masse.  348 Fig. 9b: Verarbeitungsstufen am Beispiel des Kapitells aus Sykaminos: Ausführung der Profilierung SS5LB6 an der Hauptfront.  348 Fig. 10: Verarbeitungsstufen am Beispiel des Kapitells aus Sykaminos.  349 Fig. 11: EAM 4797, Kapitell aus Sykaminos: Oberseite. Maßstab 1 : 4.  350 Fig. 12: EAM 4797, Kapitell aus Sykaminos: Hauptfront mit rekonstruierter Spiralenkonstruktion der Voluten. Maßstab 1 : 4.  351 Fig. 13: EAM 4797, Kapitell aus Sykaminos: Unterseite. Maßstab 1 : 4.  352 Fig. 14: EAM 4797, Kapitell aus Sykaminos: Hinterseite mit rekonstruierter Spiralenkonstruktion der Voluten. Maßstab 1 : 4.  353 Fig. 15: EAM 4797, Kapitell aus Sykaminos: Linke Seite und charakteristischen Schnitte. Maßstab 1 : 4.  354 Fig. 16: EAM 4797, Kapitell aus Sykaminos: Hauptzüge des Entwurfs.  355

XVI  List of Figures Fig. 17: EAM 4797, Kapitell aus Sykaminos: Übereinandersetzen der rechten äußeren Spiralen und der Spiegelbilder der linken äußeren Spiralen. Maßstab 1 : 4.  356 Fig. 18: EAM 4797, Kapitell aus Sykaminos: Rekonstruktion des Denkmals. Maßstab 1 : 20.  357 Fig. 19: EAM 4797, Kapitell aus Sykaminos: Maßstab 1 : 10. Rekonstruktion des Denkmals mit Bezeichnung der Bestandteile.  357 Michalis Tiverios, “Dionysos Lenaios at Rhamnous. Lenaia ἐν ἀγροῖς and the “Lenaia vases”” Fig. 1: The Theatre of Rhamnous (photo K. Kalogeropoulos).  361 Fig. 2: Attic black-figure lekythos. Athens, National Museum, inv. 12395 (Ν931) (from: Frontisi-Ducroux 1991, 107, no. 50).  365 Fig. 3: Attic red-figure kylix. Berlin, Staatliche Museen, inv. F2290 (from: Simon 1981, pl. 169a).  366 Fig. 4a-b: Attic red-figure stamnos. Naples, Museo Nazionale Archeologico, inv. 81674 (Heyd. 2419) (Side A, from: Τιβέριος 1996, 186 no. 169; Side B, from: Simon 1981, pl. 213).  371 Fig. 5: Attic red-figure stamnos.The Detroit Institute of Arts, nr. 63.12 (from: Miller 1992, pl. IV c).  371 Fig. 6: The telestērion of Rhamnous (photo K. Kalogeropoulos).  378 Fig. 7: Ritual vase. Rhamnous, Archaeological Storage (from: Πετράκος 1999c, pl. 6β).  378 Theodosia Stefanidou-Tiveriou, “Philoktet in Attika” Fig. 1: Relief. Brauron, Museum Inv. 1363. Foto: Autorin.  387 Fig. 2: Detail des Reliefs Abb. 1. Foto: Autorin.  390 Fig. 3-4: Details des Reliefs Abb. 1. Fotos: Autorin.  391 Fig. 5: Attischer Sarkophag. Nikopolis, Museum Inv. 3772. Foto: Κ. Xenikakis.  396 Fig. 6: Lampe. London, British Museum Inv. 1858.0714.3.b. Foto: British Museum AN01123049_001_I.  400 Fig. 7: Girlandensarkophag (rechte Lünette). Florenz, ehemals Giardino della Gherardesca. Nach Robert 1890, Taf. 51.  401 Fig. 8: Rotfiguriger Glockenkrater. Syrakus, Museo Regionale Inv. 36319. Nach Pace 1922, Taf. 3.  401 John McK. Camp II, “Peiraieus in 1805” Fig. 1: The Peiraiaus peninsula. After Curtius/Kaupert 1881, sheet III.  413 Fig. 2: (=PHI No. 405): Pen-and-ink of the main harbor of Peiraieus; by Pomardi, looking east (May 13, 1805).  413 Fig. 3: (=PHI No. 406): Tomb of Themistokles. Pen-and-ink and pencil, by Pomardi, looking west (May 11, 1805).  414 Fig. 4: (=PHI No. 411): Doric ruins near Zea harbor, looking east-southeast, with Mount Hymettos in the background. Finished sepia drawing by Pomardi (May 11, 1805).  416 Fig. 5: (=PHI No. 412): Doric remains above Zea harbor, preliminary sketch for PHI No. 411. Penand-ink drawing from the Pomardi sketchbook (May 11, 1805).  416 Fig. 6: (= PHI No. 415): Entrance to the harbor of Mikrolimano (Dodwell’s ‘Phaleron’) looking south with Aegina and the Argolid in the background, the southwest promontory (and sanctuary of Artemis Mounychia).  419 Fig. 7: (= PHI No. 418): Towers of the gate at Eetioneia. Sepia drawing by Pomardi (May 10, 1805).  420 Fig. 8: (= PHI No. 419): Excavating a cemetery, north of Peiraieus. Faint pencil sketch by Pomardi(?), undated (May 1805).  420

List of Figures  XVII

Klaus Fittschen, “Karl Otfried Müller in Marathon, Rhamnus und Oropos. Aus seinen Reiseaufzeichnungen von 1840” Fig. 1: Die Bucht von Marathon, gezeichnet von F. Neise am 30. Juni 1840.  432 Fig. 2: Der Soros von Marathon, gezeichnet von F. Neise am 1. Juli 1840.  432 Fig. 3: Sima vom Großen Tempel in Rhamnus, gezeichnet von K. O. Müller am 1. Juli 1840.  433 Fig. 4: Das Kastro von Rhamnus, gezeichnet von F. Neise am 1. Juli 1840.  433 Fig. 5: Das Südtor im Kastro von Rhamnus, gezeichnet von K.O. Müller am 1. Juli 1840; der Buchstabe a bezeichnet die Stelle für das Einsetzen eines Balkens.  434 Fig. 6: Plan des Kastro von Rhamnus, gezeichnet (und mit Tinte später nachgezogen) von K.O. Müller am 1. Juli 1840.  434 Fig. 7: Der Turm von Barnabas, gezeichnet von F. Neise am 2. Juli 1840.  435 Fig. 8: Das Eingangstor des Turmes von Barnabas, gezeichnet von K.O. Müller am 2. Juli 1840.  436 Fig. 9a: Details vom Apobaten-Relief in Berlin, gezeichnet von K. O. Müller in Skala Oropou am 3. Juli 1840.  437 Fig. 9b: Details vom Apobaten-Relief in Berlin, gezeichnet von K. O. Müller in Skala Oropou am 3. Juli 1840.  438 Fig. 10: Text der Inschrift IG VII 464 in Skala Oropou, gezeichnet von K. O. Müller am 3. Juli 1840.  439 Fig. 11: Blick von Skala Oropou auf das gegenüberliegende Eretria, gezeichnet von F. Neise am 3. Juli 1840.  439 Pierre Ducrey, “Vassilis Petrakos et les fouilles suisses d’Érétrie” Fig. 1: Érétrie. Le quartier Ouest vu du sud-ouest. Photo ESAG.  454 Fig. 2: Sanctuaire d’Apollon Daphnéphoros. Constructions du VIIIe siècle. Restitution graphique. Dessin Bernard Reymond (ESAG).  454 Fig. 3: Le Sébasteion. Photo ESAG.  456 Fig. 4: Mosaïques de la Maison aux mosaïques. Milieu du Ive siècle. Photo ESAG.  455 Fig. 5: Érétrie. Plan archéologique 2019. ESAG.  457 Fig. 6: Érétrie. Dessin de la rue Antiochou Theodikou. Paul Hofer, 28. 03. 1976. ESAG.  458 Fig. 7: Tuile estampillée ARTEMIDOS, trouvée en 2017. Photo ESAG.  459 Fig. 8: Sanctuaire d’Artémis Amarysia. Photo aérienne août 2019. ESAG.  460

Tabula Gratulatoria Penelope Agallopoulou, Athens, Greece Maria Andreadaki-Vlazaki, Athens/Chania, Greece Ilektra Andreadi, Athens, Greece Stathis Andris, New York, USA Vyron Antoniadis, Nea Makri, Greece Xeni Arapogianni, Kalamata, Greece Vasileios Leonidis Aravantinos, Athens/Thebes, Greece Stavros I. Arvanitopoulos, Athens, Greece Panagiota Assimakopoulou-Atzaka, Thessaloniki, Greece Charalambos Bakirtzis, Nicosia, Cyprus Anna Benaki-Psarouda, Athens, Greece John Bennet, Athens, Greece Alberto G. Benvenuti, Athens, Greece David Blackman, Oxford, United Kingdom Margherita Bonanno Aravantinou, Rome, Italy Katie Botopoulou, Athens, Greece Christos Boulotis, Athens, Greece John McK. Camp II, Athens, Greece and Ashland, Virginia, USA Miriam Caskey, Athens, Greece Angelos Chaniotis, Princeton, New Jersey, USA Christoforos Charalambakis, Athens, Greece Kevin Clinton, Ithaca, NY, USA Michael B. Cosmopoulos, Missouri, St. Louis, USA Dimitris Damaskos, Patras, Greece Costis Davaras, Agios Nikolaos, Crete, Greece Jack L. Davis, Cincinnati, USA Iphigeneia Dekoulakou, Athens, Greece Maria Delivorria, Athens, Greece Katie Demakopoulou, Athens, Greece Nikiforos Diamandouros, Athens, Greece Nicoletta Divari-Valakou, Athens, Greece Angelika St. Douzougli, Ioannina, Greece Pierre Ducrey, Athens, Greece and Lausanne, Switzerland Klaus Valtin von Eickstedt, Athens, Greece Roland Etienne, Paris, France Klaus Fittschen, Wolfenbüttel, Germany Yannis Galanakis, Cambridge, United Kingdom Georgios I. Gavalas, Athens, Greece Apostolos Georgiades, Athens, Greece Demosthenes G. Giraud, Athens, Greece Hans Rupprecht Goette, Berlin, Germany Orestis Goulakos, Athens, Greece Alexandros Gounaris, Volos, Greece Emanuele Greco, Naples, Italy Klaus Hallof, Berlin, Germany Cornelia Hatziaslani Boura, Athens, Greece Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos, Athens, Greece Athina Kakouri-Iakovidi, Athens, Greece https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-205

XX  Tabula Gratulatoria Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos, Athens, Greece Nikolaos Kaltsas, Athens, Greece Alexandra Kankeleit, Berlin, Germany Nektarios Karadimas, Athens, Greece Georgia Karamitrou-Mentesidi, Aiani, Kozani, Greece Efthymia Karantzali, Lamia, Greece Pavlos Karvonis, Athens, Greece Stelios Katakis, Athens, Greece Konstantina Kaza-Papageorgiou, Athens, Greece Eugenia Kefallineou, Athens, Greece Hermann J. Kienast, Munich, Germany Paschalis M. Kitromilidis, Athens, Greece Denis Knoepfler, Paris, France and Neuchâtel, Switzerland Angeliki Kokkou, Athens, Greece Manolis Korres, Athens, Greece Antonis Kotsonas, New York, USA Alexandra Kotti, Athens, Greece Nota Kourou, Athens, Greece Martin Kreeb, Patras, Greece Charalampos B. Kritzas, Athens, Greece Helmut Kyrieleis, Berlin, Germany Adonis K. Kyrou, Athens, Greece Juliette de La Genière, Lille, France Maria Lagogianni-Georgakarakos, Athens, Greece Angeliki Lebessi, Athens, Greece Yannis Lolos, Volos, Greece Yannos G. Lolos, Ioannina, Greece Marina Lykiardopoulou-Petrou, Athens, Greece Vassiliki Machaira, Athens, Greece Georgia Malouchou, Athens, Greece Chryssa A. Maltezou, Athens, Greece Joseph Maran, Heidelberg, Germany Lila I. Marangou, Athens, Greece Nanno Marinatos, Athens, Greece and Chicago, USA Marisa Marthari, Athens, Greece Alexandros I. Mazarakis-Ainian, Volos, Greece Ioannis K. Mazarakis-Ainian, Athens, Greece Robert McCabe, New York, USA Stephen G. Miller, Berkeley, USA Catherine Morgan, Oxford, United Kingdom Aliki Moustaka, Athens, Greece Dominique Mulliez, Athens, Greece and Paris, France Wolf-Dietrich Niemeier, Athens, Greece Ioanna Ninou, Athens, Greece Efi Oikonomou, Athens, Greece Elias Oikonomou, Athens, Greece Michael J. Osborne, Melbourne, Australia Olga Palagia, Athens, Greece Diamantis Panagiotopoulos, Heidelberg, Germany Maria Pantelidou Gofa, Athens, Greece Alkestis Papadimitriou, Nafplio, Greece

Tabula Gratulatoria  XXI

Konstantinos Papadimitriou, Athens, Greece Anna Papadimitriou-Grammenou, Athens, Greece Georgios Κ. Papadopoulos, Athens, Greece Elena Papanikolaou, Basel, Switzerland Ioannis Α. Papapostolou, Athens, Greece Nikolaos Papazarkadas, Berkeley, USA Robert Parker, Oxford, United Kingdom Vassilis Petrakis, Athens, Greece Alexis Phylactopoulos, Athens, Greece Olivier Picard, Paris, France Maria Pipili, Athens, Greece Thanos Pipilis, Athens, Greece Lefteris Platon, Athens, Greece Melpo I. Pologiorgi, Athens, Greece Georgios Poukamissas, Athens, Greece Jörg Rambach, Kalamata, Greece Antonios Rengakos, Athens, Greece Emmanouil Roukounas, Athens, Greece Charalampos Roussos, Athens, Greece Jörg Schäfer, Heidelberg, Germany Martin Schäfer, Athens, Greece Bernhard Schmaltz, Kiel, Germany Vassilis Sgoutas, Athens, Greece Chrysoula Siamanta, Athens, Greece Despoina Skorda, Itea, Phocis, Greece Katja Sporn, Athens, Greece Eftychia Stavrianopoulou, Heidelberg, Germany Theodosia Stefanidou-Tiveriou, Thessaloniki, Greece Jutta Stroszeck, Athens, Greece Ronald S. Stroud, Berkeley, USA Tasos Tanoulas, Athens, Greece Zetta Theodoropoulou Polychroniadis, Athens, Greece and London, United Kingdom Michalis Tiverios, Athens, Greece Stephen V. Tracy, Princeton, New Jersey, USA Antonia Trichopoulou, Athens, Greece Panagiotis Tselikas, Athens, Greece Euthymios N. Tsigaridas, Thessaloniki, Greece Olga Tzachou-Alexandri, Athens, Greece Hara Tzavella-Evjen, Denver, CO, USA Panos Valavanis, Athens, Greece Dora Vassilikou, Athens, Greece Maria Marina Vassilikou, Athens, Greece Eleni Vazaki, Athens, Greece Eugenia Vikela, Athens, Greece Evangelos Vivliodetis, Athens, Greece Tasoula Voutsina, Athens, Greece Georgios A. Zachos, Athens, Greece Konstantinos L. Zachos, Ioannina, Greece Angelos Zarkadas, Athens, Greece Gerasimos G. Zoras, Athens, Greece Youli Zoumbouli, Athens, Greece

Fig. 1: Vasileios Petrakos, Epigraphist, Archaeologist and Historiographer of Greek Archaeology. Secretary General of the Archaeological Society at Athens and of the Academy of Athens. Photo 2009: Courtesy of D. Vassilikou.

Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology Abstract: It was undoubtdedly a day of great consequence to Greek archaeology in June 1959 when Vasileios Petrakos was appointed Epimeletes at the Greek Archaeological Service (’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ὑπηρεσία). What begun officially in that summer – in fact actually three years earlier in summer 1956 – now spans 64 years and one spectacular career. This brief essay cannot, of course, address all of Petrakos’ contributions to the field of Greek archaeology, but it tries to highlight some of his innumberable interests and talents, to put his work in the proper perspective.

Childhood (1932–1950) Vasileios Petrakos was born on 7 October 1932 in the harbor town of Peiraieus as the third child in a family of four children (one older brother, one older sister, one younger sister). Both of his parents came to Peiraieus from different parts of Greece. His father, a tailor, who from 1912 to 1922 participated in three consecutive wars (Balkan Wars, World War I and Greco-Turkish War), moved there from Gytheion (Laconia), his mother came from Aidepsos (Euboea). Petrakos’ later childhood, that time which constructs someone’s individuality, coincided with the Nazi occupation of the Greek mainland (1941–1944). During this period Peiraieus, the town where he was born and grown up, was twice devastated by aerial bombing (1941 by the Germans and 1944 by the Allies). This was a time of fear, terror and confusion characterized by the destruction of homes, loss of beloved persons and separation of families. Petrakos himself was sent with the other children of his family from Peiraieus for safety to Aidepsos. His adolescence corresponded with the Greek Civil War (1946–1949). All these traumatic experiences generated life-long effects on him, as it is evidenced by personal statements, especially in his later work.1  Information cited in this article derives either from the honoree’s own published work or from personal conversations I had with him. I am grateful to co-editor Mrs. Dora Vassilikou for providing me with the photographs 1–3. Bold numbers in the footnotes refer to the publications of the honoree at the end of the article. Many thanks are also due to Don Evely for polishing my English.  1 Two examples concerning his visual memories from the Nazi occupation, one made in 2013 and one in 2017 may clarify this: “Ἔζησα τὴ Γερμανικὴ (κατοχὴ) καὶ ἔχω ζωηρὴ τὴν εἰκόνα της” (493, 724); “Ἔβλεπα τὰ πρωινὰ τοῦ ᾽44 τὰ βαμμένα μαῦρα φορτηγὰ τῶν σκουπιδιῶν μὲ τὴ σαμαρωτὴ στέγη ν᾽ ἀνηφορίζουν ἀγκομαχώντας τὴν ὁδὸ ’Ακαδημίας. Κανεὶς δὲν μιλοῦσε γιὰ τὸ τί ἔκρυβαν μέσα τους. Ὁ τρόμος σ᾽ ἔσφιγγε στὴν ὄψη τους καὶ μόνο.” (560, 225). https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-206

XXIV  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos

University (1951–1956) From 1951 to 1956, i.e. during the Post Civilian War / Early Cold War Era of Greece, Petrakos studied History and Archaeology at the University of Athens. He was educated in classical, prehistoric and byzantine Archaeology by significant scholars such as Anastasios Orlandos, Spyridon Marinatos, and Georgios Mylonas and in byzantine, post-byzantine History, and the History of modern Greece by leading Greek scholars such as Dionysios Zakythinos and Nikolaos Vlachos. After an intermezzo in 1955, when he did his military service in Kalamata, he received his diploma in early 1957.

Early Career (1956–1963) Petrakos’ introduction to the archaeological fieldwork of Attica came in the summer of 1956 when he joined the Agia Triada excavations in Peiraieus directed by Ioannis Papadimitriou,2 at that time Director of Antiquities of Attica. Papadimitriou, who would become an important mentor for Petrakos, was since at least 1951 internationally famous (primarily through his discovery of Grave Circle B in Mycenae), but in the period of Petrakos involvement in Attica (1956) he was at the beginning of administering his great project for the excavation of the Artemis sanctuary in Brauron (1955– 1963). During the subsequent period 1958–1963, in his leading position as Director of Antiquities and Restoration (1958–1963) Papadimitriou played a central role in the reorganization of the administration of the Greek Archaeological Service.3 From the beginning of 1957, Petrakos accompanied Papadimitriou every Saturday on his trips while getting acquainted with the problems of Attic topography. Between 1957 and 1959, Papadimitriou sent him to conduct works in the Amphiareion of Oropos on the occasion of the construction of an archaeological museum within the sanctuary.4 During these works Petrakos found in Skala Oropou, near the sea, pottery fragments of the Middle Helladic and the Early Mycenaean period, that offered for the first time archaeologically documented evidence for the existence of this formative period in the border area between Attica and Boeotia.5 Papadimitriou also assigned Petrakos with the task of preparing a catalogue of the inscriptions from Oropos stored in the Amphiareion, a work which he did in 1957 and which then formed the foundation for his PhD thesis completed eight years later in Lyon.6

 2 193, 67. 3 233, 163. 4 76, 148. 5 34, 97. 6 Compare nos 9 and 252.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  XXV

In December 1957, Petrakos, together with Olga Alexandri, cleaned out and produced for the first time a drawing of the temple of Artemis Tauropolos in Loutsa (Halai Araphenides), which had been identified by Nikolaos Kyparissis in the 1920s and was re-discovered by Papadimitriou in 1956.7 In the next year (1958) Petrakos was employed by the Archaelogical Society at Athens together with Leandros Vranousis and Menelaos Tourtoglou to classify the archival material of the Society, a work completed under the supervision of Manousos Manousakas, a historian of medieval and early modern Greece. During this period, he read anything and everything related to the documentary holdings of the Archaeological Society’s Archive.8 This laid the foundations of much of his later research in the history of Greek Archaeology. The beginning of 1959 was for Petrakos an examination period, since he prepared himself for the employment exams for the ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ὑπηρεσία (Greek Archaeological Service). In June 1959, he entered the Archaeological Service after passing the exams that had taken place in March 1959,9 for the first time since 1933.10 Five candidates were successful, which, in comparison to modern standards, is a very low number: Petrakos himself, Olga Alexandri, Manto Oikonomidou, Katerina Rhomiopoulou and Maria Karamanoli-Siganidou.11 Petrakos’ first task as an Epimeletes (Curator) was to organize in summer 1959 the Museum in Delphi. He continued in the autumn of the same year with similar duties in the museum of Sparta under the directorship of the then Ephor of Laconia, Chrysanthos Christou. In December 1959, he returned to Attica, where he begun his work in the ancient deme of Rhamnous. It was the 10th of December of 1959, when he visited the site for the first time as a young Epimeletes: that day proved to be a turning point not only in his life but also in the history of Greek archaeology. It was then that he began recording scattered and undocumented findings of previous archaeological investigations in the sanctuary of Nemesis under the supervision of Ioannis Kontis, by that time Ephoros of Antiquities in Attica,12 with the assistance of the sculptor Stelios Triantis. Retrospectively, the project “Rhamnous”, which started some 60 years ago and ended this year (2020) with his monumental multi-volumed final publication entitled “Ὁ δῆμος τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος”,13 can be considered to have contributed more to the understanding of an ancient deme’s life in Attica than any other undertaking in the 20th  7 255, 32f.; Papadimitriou 1957, 46 fig. 2. On the temple and its finds, see now Kalogeropoulos 2013. 8 493, 375. 9 255, 36. 10 233, 156. 11 59, 102 (nos 99–103); 233, 130. 12 Ioannis D. Kontis was Ephor of Antiquities of Attica from November 1959 until October 1960 (see 233, 211 n. 117). 13 577a–d.

XXVI  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos century. His work fundamentally altered our picture of Attic demes and immeasurably increased our historical understanding, especially of Classical, Hellenistic and Roman Attica. Already in 1960, while clearing away the 1890–1892 debris of Valerios Stais’ excavations piled west and east of the Nemesis sanctuary, Petrakos was able to identify important, until then unnoticed, fragmented material such as column drums of the great temple, new relief fragments of the classical marble basis of the cult statue of Nemesis, as well as an important inscription connecting events of the Chremonidean War (267–261 BC), assigning them to specific buildings in Rhamnous.14 Until today (2020) and with the exception of a twelve-year period where he operated outside Attica (1963–1974), Petrakos devoted himself to the mission of exploring, preserving and publishing the monuments of Rhamnous and despite (or perhaps because of) his innumerous other interests and major publications related to many different aspects and topics of ancient Greek society, it is fair to say that he succeeded admirably. The years after 1960 saw the rapid growth in the standards of living and of building activities in Greece and especially in Attica and in the islands of the Saronic Gulf, which as a consequence has been threatening to destroy huge amounts of material, documents of prehistoric and ancient Greek culture. Petrakos’ salvage work in these areas during the period 1960–1963 was crucial. His rescue excavations recovered, documented and definitely protected large numbers of ancient monuments, that would otherwise have been lost due to building activities. Representative cases include the recovery of a portion of the Mycenaean chamber tomb cemetery at the hill of Kamini, which otherwise would have been destroyed by the extension of the SW suburb of Athens Varkiza,15 or the discovery in Kephissia of marble busts and body fragments belonging to Herodes Atticus and his pupils Polydeukion and Memnon,16 at a place where the Villa of Herodes must have been sited.17 Directly related to the scientific documentation and protection of the ancient monuments, but also to his (and later so characteristic of him) holistic approach to archaeology is the way he conducted restoration work during this period both in theory and in practice. Two cases may serve to exemplify this. First, there is his decision to write in November 1960 an architectural critique on the “barbaric” methods used by the architects of the Direction of Anastelosis (E. Stikas) to restore the Aphaia temple on Aegina, using extensively new materials. According to Petrakos the restoration “killed” the monument and it was certainly in contrast with what he has learned from Kontis about anastelosis-principles appropriate for temples.18 Although in his main point of criticism he

 14 1, 37f. 15 1, 40; on this Mycenaean cemetery, see Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 1988. 16 3, 30; 52, fig. 131 (Herodes Atticus), 132 (Polydeukion). 17 52, 148. 18 233, 152–154 n. 218; 158f.

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was certainly right, the fact that Petrakos was not an architect, i.e. not a “expert” in matters of anastelosis, in combination with the fact that in that period (November 1960) he was still very young, led to the result that his report failed to stimulate a scientific debate about the role of aesthetic matters in anastelosis. The second case was the difficult but scientifically successful stone by stone dismantling, transferring and re-erecting of one of the largest late classical funerary enclosures (periboloi) in Attica, that of Elliniko, near the Saronic Gulf, which would otherwise have been destroyed by the construction of the Runway of the Athens Airport (East).19 Petrakos’ third archaeological point of focus in the period 1960–1963 was Eretria. While commissioned with the task to organize the exhibition of the new Eretria museum (constructed in 1959), he was able between 1961 and 1963 not only to clear the visible ancient structures of the site but also to reveal important new monuments such as the tholos,20 fragments from the pediment of the archaic temple of Apollon Daphnephoros,21 and an Ionic capital of votive character,22 and also to identify others (e.g. the Thesmophorion),23 as well as to publish for the first time useful architectural plans, among them an up-to-date topographical outline of the walled town.24 Furthermore, in the gully to the west of the site, i.e. in the area of the archaeological museum, he discovered in 1963 a great number of funerary inscriptions, which he published in two sets,25 testifying to the presence of a cemetery at this area. In addition to his fundamental field research, which had a strong impact in the subsequent fieldwork conducted in Eretria the last 55 years by the Swiss School of Archaeology,26 Petrakos published in this period some of his first epigraphical studies. The first piece was an inscribed base found in Eretria in December 1961. It concerns a dedicatory inscription on an honorary statue made by sculptor Teisikrates in the first half of the 3rd century BC for one Aeschylus Antandrides from Eretria, Hieromnemon in Delphi, known from other inscriptions and the literary tradition.27 The second one was an inscription on a square base which commemorates the erection of a Herm by a group of people named ’Αειναῦται, apparently an Eretrian association of sailors, which were chronologically related to a board of three magistrates.28

 19 3, 30–35. 20 4, 148–151 fig. 6–7. 21 4, 144f. 22 6, 127 fig. 7. 23 4, 145 fig. 2. 24 4, 153. 25 In 1968 (18), and in 1974 (34). On these funeral inscriptions, see the contribution of D. Knoepfler in this volume. 26 See the contribution of P. Ducrey in this volume. 27 2, 211–214 pl. 89–90. 28 7.

XXVIII  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos

Epigraphical Studies in France (1963–1965) In July 1963, Petrakos moved with his wife to France for two years. Holding a scholarship of the French Government, he studied there Greek Epigraphy with Jean Pouilloux, Georges Roux and Henri Metzger in Lyon and with Louis Robert in Paris (Collège de France).29 Based on these seminars and lessons and on the catalogue of inscriptions he had compiled in 1957 in the Amphiareion, he wrote in the first months of 1965 his doctoral dissertation with the title Les inscriptions d’Oropos under the supervision of Jean Pouilloux in Lyon (Institut d’épigraphie Grecque - Institut Fernand Courby).30 Petrakos’ dissertation contained partly the corpus of the inscription of Oropos but was partly also historical since it dealt with the history, the geography, the institutions and the prosopography of Oropos.31

The Years as the Head of the Ephorates at Mytilini (Lesbos), Delphi and Patras (1965–1974) Returning from France back to Greece, he was appointed by Kontis as the head of the Ephorate of Antiquities of the Aegean Islands, succeeding in this position Serapheim Charitonides. Based in Mytilene on Lesbos, he was responsible for the islands Lesbos, Chios and Lemnos. During his stay there (summer 1965 until spring 1969) he was very active not only in digging sites in advance of development and in restoring, conserving and protecting important monuments, but also in publishing his earlier and current archaeological research. The most important rescue and restorational work was done on Mytilene itself. First, he excavated the vaulted vomitoria and restored the famous Roman theatre of Mytilene. He offered the first accurate plan of the stage building and the orchestra of a monument, which according to Plutarch was to become the archetype of all Roman theatres, and provided drawings of the inscriptions and detailed descriptions of the older findings of Dimitrios Evangelides.32 Second, he conducted systematic restoration and conservation work in the Castle of Mytilene, which had been systematically looted during the crisis years of 1912 and 1922.33 Furthermore, he provided new and – in comparison with those of Robert Koldeway and W.R. Paton – more accurate draw-

 29 233, 150. 30 9; 252, 13. 31 10, 45 n. 1. 32 14, 22, 24. 33 14, 460 pl. 337 γ; 38.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  XXIX

ings and plans of the main castle, the Middle, South and North Gates, the Great Enclosure, as well as plans and sections of the Gunpowder Magazine.34 Third, he recovered a large building with a high-quality mosaic floor, enclosing representations of winged Erotes, fauna and human portraits.35 The floor had been found in 1967 in the excavations during demolition of the old hospital in front of the church of Agios Therapon. In the modern deposits of this site he has also found a Roman inscription honouring Marcus Pompeius Theophanes described as εἰρονόμας.36 Finally, Petrakos provided for the first time convincing evidence for the existence of a Jewish community on Lesbos during the 16th century.37 In the area of the Post Trajan-Valaneion, he discovered and published a funerary inscription bearing the name of a certain Nadji Ispisansa di Alba, a Jewish rabbi or cantor, who seems to have reached Lesbos after the expulsion of the Jews from Spain and Portugal in the 15th or 16th centuries. In addition to his work on Mytilene, he cleared in three campaigns (1966–68) the remains of the pseudo-dipteral Ionic temple at Mesa, in the middle of the island, excavated in 1885–86 by Koldeway. Within the covering soil of the temple, he found a hoard of 48 gold ducats of Andrea Dandolo (1343–1354).38 South of the surviving foundations, he uncovered stylobate blocks, bases, drums and parts of the stone sima.39 During his stay on Mytilene he was also able to publish several important works, two of which became sources of particular scholarly interest. The first one was published in the ’Αρχαιολογικὸν Δελτίον of 1967 and concerned the already mentioned inscription found in Rhamnous in 1960, an important decree of the year 268/67 BC. The decree refers to activities of the Athenian general Epichares, who was elected “General in charge of the coastal region of Attica” (στρατηγὸς ἐπὶ τὴν παραλίαν), near the coast of Rhamnous. According to this document, Epichares protected crops, vineyards and slaves from the Macedonians, erected his headquarters (στρατήγιον) in the sanctuary of Nemesis (obviously to control among other places the whole plain of Limiko) and built shelters for the soldiers of the Ptolemaic general Patroklos, who was sent to help the Athenians against the Antigonids.40 Petrakos’ 1967–article broke new ground in that it testified, among other matters, that during the beginning of the Chremonidean War Rhamnous was under Athenian control.41

 34 38, drawings 1–7. 35 24, 368–370 pl. 378–381 (mosaics). 36 24, 370 no 1 (inscription). 37 14, 449 pl. 333 α. 38 15, 98. 39 15, 100 pl. 80α (stylobate blocks), 80β (sima); 19, 84 pl. 63β (drums). 40 13; 281b, 6–9 no. 3. 41 On the impact of this publication on our understanding of the Chremonidean War, see Oetjen 2014, 12f. notes 18–22 (lit.).

XXX  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos The second work was one of his most prominent studies – the well-known monograph about Oropos and the monuments of the oracular healing sanctuary of Amphiaraos, which was published in 1968.42 It contained the history of ancient Oropos and an analytical description of the Late Classical, Hellenistic and Roman monuments of the sanctuary of Amphiaraos, whose cult was introduced at this border site during the Peloponnesian War, apparently from a place called Knopia near Thebes, where it was originally established.43 Based (a) on the results of the largely unpublished excavations of the Archaeological Society in the Aphiareion conducted between 1884 and 1930 under the directorship of Spyridon Phintiklis and Vasileios Leonardos44 and with the collaboration of Wilhelm Dörpfeld45 in the first campaigns, (b) on new research which he conducted on the monuments (inscriptions included) and (c) on the study of the relevant literary tradition, Petrakos offered a systematic monograph which completely replaced Félix Dürrbach’s 1890 dissertation on the subject.46 In this monograph Petrakos demonstrated, with his characteristic clarity and precision not only his perception of the inscriptions as “monuments who carry inscriptions” (and not just as “inscriptional writings”),47 but also his particular ability to combine meaningfully the skills of an archaeologist with those of a philologist in elucidating the historical significance of the monuments under study. Besides archaeology, the service years on Lesbos were in general very exciting and productive ones for Petrakos. This is well documented in many articles of his later periods. Mytilene was at this time still one of the most active cultural and social centres in Greece. These were the years with the intense relationship with several writers and artists who influenced him such as Asimakis Panselinos, Stratis and Miltis Paraskevaidis and Takis Eleftheriadis.48 While serving on Lesbos, but also later in Delphi, he participated in the Local Commissions on Toponyms of the Greek Ministry of Interior. From his writings one appreciates that he was not always willing to accept the decision of the Commissions

 42 16. Among the new material observed by him is also an important archaic votive capital found in Sykamino(s) ca 2km west of Oropos incorporated in the Agia Eleousa church (16, 16 n. 5). On this find, see now M. Korres in this volume. 43 16, 66f. 44 On V. Leonardos s. 573. 45 On W. Dörpfeld’s relations to the Archaeological Society at Athens s. 112. 46 Dürrbach 1890. 47 See for example 16, 145 fig. 35, which shows a plan of the bases of the sanctuary indicating with shadowing the readable, inscribed sides of the mοnuments. On this methodological approach in the case of the inscriptions, see Raubitschek 1964. 48 356, 81f.

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especially in the cases when these Commissions tried to change place names seemlingly not Greek but in reality, either common in the Byzantine heroic poetry49 or indeed ancient Greek.50 In Spring 1969, he was moved to Delphi, where he continued his work on the protection and publication of Greek antiquities. Due to his efforts the wider archaeological site of Delphi (including Desfina, Arachova and Itea to the south) was declared as a “protected area”.51 As a result of this declaration the abuse of the area by man was severely curtailed. He also conducted important excavations and cleanings, including those on the sanctuary of Demeter and Kore at Souvala/Polydroso (ancient Erochos) in northern Phocis (formerly excavated by Christos Karouzos), where he found a great amount of pottery and small finds (figurines) ranging from the Archaic to the Hellenistic periods,52 and also those in the coastal site of Kirrha, where he recovered Middle Helladic graves and part of a Late Mycenaean settlement.53 During his stay in Delphi he also published two monographs: the Delphi Guide for visitors (1971)54 and the Νεώτερες ἐπιγραφὲς τῆς Μυτιλήνης (Modern Inscriptions of Lesbos) (1972).55 In the second study, he published important inscriptions from Lesbos of the 18th and 19th centuries found on churches, bridges, fountains and houses. By doing so he included in the publication not only the text of the inscriptions but also drawings of the architectural monuments in which they were incorporated, as well its decoration. Between 1973 and 1974 he was based in Patras, where he operated as Ephor of Antiquities and simultaneously as Inspector of Culture and Science in the Peloponnese and Western Central Greece. During this time, he published important works such as his study on the Mycenaean Oropia56 and the first edition of his Guide on the Amphiareion of Oropos (1974).57

 49 194, 72. 50 Such was, as Petrakos explains, the place name “Chriso” in Phokis (an altered form for ancient “Krisa”) which was falsely transformed with “y” as “Chryso”. Decades later, in 1993, another state Council on Toponyms was of the opinion, contrary to the historical truth, that the modern place name “Mesa” should be replaced as not signifying anything in particular, but Petrakos was able to demonstrate that it was a survival of the epigraphically-attested ancient place name “Messon”, on Lesbos, a temple site where he himself had excavated in 1967 (194, 72f.). 51 Iakovidis 2000, 557. 52 28. 53 31. 54 27. 55 29. 56 34. 57 36.

XXXII  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos

The Years as Ephor of the Sculpture Collection in the National Archaeological Museum (1974–1976) and Ephor of Attica (1976–1994) In 1974, Petrakos returned to Attica, to take up the position of Ephor of the Sculpture Collection in the National Archaeological Museum in Athens. Two years later, in 1976, he became Ephor of Attica and held that post until 1994. During his Attica-Ephorate (1976–1994), besides supervising numerous “rescue” excavations he took concrete actions to preserve the heritage of Attica’s past as well as Attica’s natural and historical landscape and to protect both (monuments and surrounding area) from destruction. These efforts included fighting against illegal digging and exporting of antiquities, attempts to control international exhibitions, actions to ensure that large areas surrounding ancient relics had been designated as archaeological sites (e.g. the relevant designation of the entire valley of Limiko, to the south of Rhamnous in 1977) or legal initiatives that led to the stopping of the construction of mines promoted by governments (as for example in the case of the marble quarries of Rhamnous in the period 1993–1995).58 However, as in his early years of service in Attica (1957–1963) both with the case of the above mentioned non-scientific restoration of the Aphaia temple on Aegina and in that of the “barbaric” use of the ancient theatre of Piraeus by Dora Stratou,59 (in which disagreement, he was strongly reproached by his supervisor I. Papadimitriou),60 so too in his mature years: his opposition to actions, which he rightly considered harmful for the monuments, in many instances was unable to turn the opinion of the official state and most of his colleages in favour of the antiquities, as was the case with his attempts to cancel the construction of the new Aegina-Museum at the archaeological site of Kolonna in 197761 or to prevent the conversion of the island of Psyttaleia near Salamis into a reservoir of sewage for the Athens basin in 1985.62 His scientific interests retained a specific geographical focus: the region of northeast Attica and especially the sites of Oropos, Marathon and especially Rhamnous. As regards Oropos: first, based on fresh examinations of the Oropian stones, which he undertook after 1976, he proposed new readings, descriptions and interpretations of the inscriptions of this border city. As a result, he published in 1980 a valuable addendum to his 1968 monograph about Oropos entitled ’Επιγραφικὰ τοῦ

 58 418, 154; 493, 581 n. 39. 59 271, 71. 60 239, 106. 61 92, 20. 62 369, 33.

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’Ωρωποῦ.63 It contained chiefly inscriptions from the ancient site near the sea (modern Skala Oropou), related especially to the cult of Halia Nymphe, in honour of whom games were celebrated in the 3rd cent. B.C. Second, in 1997 he published in a monumental monograph the definite publication of “The Inscriptions of Oropos”,64 which contained some 770 epigraphical texts from the 4th century to the Roman imperial times, among them proxeny decrees, inscriptions concerning the sanctuaries and the city, as well as dedications. It constitutes the complete corpus of Oropos inscriptions, which reveals the political, religious and to a degree the daily life of a city located on the borders of Attica. In the words of Michael H. Jameson65 a “masterful publication”, with “excellent drawings” which made “it possible to understand the nature of each monument”, a publication which set new standards in the study and publication of Greek inscriptions.66 As far as Marathon is concerned, he published in 1995 a very useful Guide on the topography, mythology and the finds stored in the Archaeological Museum of Marathon from prehistoric to Roman times with a special emphasis on the contribution of all the above data to understanding aspects of the battle of Marathon.67

Excavations and Studies in Rhamnous (1975–2001) His greatest contribution to the academic discipline came, however, in his work at Rhamnous. As already stated, Petrakos’ involvement in the exploration and study of Rhamnous began in December 1959, where under the supervision of Kontis he initiated long-term works in the sanctuary of Nemesis. In 1975, he was able to resume excavations in Rhamnous and to continue hereby the pioneering work of John Peter Gandy Deering (1813–1814), Dimitrios Philios (1880), Valerios Stais (1890–1892), Jean Pouilloux (1954) and Efthymios Mastrokostas (1958). For 27 consecutive years (from 1975 to 2001) he dedicated his life to excavating systematically this Attic deme on behalf of the Archaeological Society at Athens in the quest first to dispel the scientific confusions caused by the early excavators (especially those by Stais, which were due to the lack of systematic research methods and proper documentation of his findings)68 and second to reveal its many hidden

 63 48. 64 252. 65 Jameson 1999, 323. 66 So Doukellis 1998. 67 230. 68 44, 1f.

XXXIV  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos secrets in order to reconstruct the real picture of the ancient deme.69 During this period, he brought to light impressive evidence for monumental sacred, funerary and defensive architecture, hundreds of new inscriptions, marble sculpture and reliefs, coins, pottery, lamps, and several other finds from different materials far beyond anyone’s expectations, in the words of Christian Habicht, “…with such success that one could perhaps say that over the last 20 years no other place on Greece … has yielded as much as Rhamnous”. 70 The research design applied by Petrakos in Rhamnous was sound and exemplary. He not only was the first in Rhamnous to open broad-based excavation areas (horizontal stratigraphy) rather than to randomly dig holes to unearth spectacular sculptures or inscriptions as earlier excavators at the site have done, but he always began with the thankless task of re-excavating finds already revealed either by earlier excavators or by looters. Whenever possible, any previous excavation was also studied along with relevevant field note diaries (e.g. the relevant pages of the 1813–diary of J. P. Deering, now in the British Museum),71 maps, historical documents, drawings and photographs. His intention was always to clarify and whenever possible to solve old scientific problems before proceeding to the new ones. Directly related to the effectiveness and successful completion of his research planning was his talent to assign within his overall research plan the right person to the right position. As far as the archaeological fieldwork was concerned, he persisted for example in digging and working with a small but very competent and dedicated staff, including the archaeologist Eleni Theocharaki who oversaw the whole excavation project until her death in 1995, the very skillful Ioannis Karamitros,72 known from his work at Mycenae and Marathon, as excavation forman, the excellent Tenian marble worker Nikos Karamalis and his son Giorgos, both with a keen eye in every matter concerning the marble monuments. As far as the final stage of the excavation process is concerned, for the final publication he hired artists for the documentation of his finds, including the painter Kostas Iliakis for the drawings of the excavated monuments, the talented conservator and artist Tasoula Voutsina for preserving the excavated artifacts and the painter Manolia Skouloudi for the drawings of the objects.73 As a result he kept during all the 27 years of the excavation meticulous records of his excavations (plans, photographs and drawings of monuments and thousands of artifacts). In a later stage, he begun to bring also scientific experts to study the human

 69 99, 10. 70 Habicht 1998, 388. 71 44, 46–55. 72 360. 73 44.

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skeletal remains found in the site,74 the pottery and the small finds from the Thesmophorion75 and to conduct geophysical surveys in order to define the form of the two harbours of Rhamnous.76 Some results of this research principle are mentioned below, selectively using cases relating to all three constitutional parts of the deme: the Nemesis-sanctuary, the funerary periboloi and the fort. The Nemesis Sanctuary: By clearing the debris of the old excavations of Stais in the sanctuary of Nemesis, Petrakos recovered hundreds of fragments of the base of the cult statue of Agoracritus’ Nemesis, to which other fragments already found by him in the National Archaeological Museum have been attached. This led to the restudy and reconstruction of the base, three faces of which carried relief sculptures known from Pausanias’ description (1.33.8) as showing the story of Helen brought by her mother Nemesis to be reared by Leda.77 Through Petrakos’ new reconstruction it became clear that Pausanias’ description of the base is inaccurate since it refered to fewer (12) human figures than actually existed (14 or 15 as well as two horses). He also showed that reconstructions previously proposed for the form of the base were also misleading, since the base was in reality constructed of two Pentelic marble blocks and the crowning element was of black Eleusinian marble. In the same debris, he recovered also a great number of architectural elements which have been identified as belonging to the classical Temple of Nemesis,78 the latest of a series of four temples which were erected in the sanctuary of the Goddess. These identifications enabled the restoration of the entablature of the classical temple,79 a process which began in August 1980 within a building constructed by him in 1979 for this very purpose. The building which also included under its roof the reconstructed base of the cult statue of Nemesis,80 has continued until our days to protect the monuments but at the same time it operates as a site-museum for study purposes. Furthermore, it was especially pleasant to him to confirm through these recoveries an earlier opinion expressed about a puzzled dedicatory epigram by Jean Pouilloux, his teacher in Lyon. It concerns the epigram IG II2 3105, which has been also known since Stais’ campaign of 1891. Through the addition of two new marble fragments Petrakos was able to certify that this epigram was in fact an Ephebic document dated to 332/1 BC, as Pouilloux had suggested years before.81  74 577c, 348 (investigation of grave 8 in the north-east cemetery conducted in 2000 by Anna Lagia). 75 Nawracala 2014. 76 577a, 328 (conducted between 2003 and 2011 by David Blackman and his team). 77 68; 281a, 251–266. 78 577b, 273–311. 79 118, fig. 20. 80 118, fig. 19. 81 44, 69: “Στὴν περίπτωση τούτη ἡ σωστὴ εἰκασία τοῦ δασκάλου μου Jean Pouilloux δικαιώθηκε πανηγυρικά, ἔστω καὶ μὲ καθυστέρηση 24 χρόνων”.

XXXVI  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Petrakos’ meticulous examination of the finds as well as his holistic approach to the publication of the results of the older and his own excavations in the Nemesis sanctuary stands as a model for a sanctuary excavation and publication. His final publication includes not only the reconstruction of the base of the Nemesis statue and catalogues accompanied with numerous photos and line drawings of the architectural fragments of the classical temple and its three predecessors, but also thorough catalogues of all the – mostly votive – objects found in the sanctuary terrace fill and in the fill within the ill-started shaft of the north spring-house. As a result, the “Nemesion” of Rhamnous82 can be regarded as one of the most throroughly investigated sanctuaries in Attica, especially for the period between the second quarter of the 6th until the mid 5th centuries BC. The Funerary Periboloi. On the sacred way to the south and north of the Nemesis sanctuary several funerary periboloi (family graves), excavated between 1890 and 1892 by Stais and which had been left scattered in the field, undocumented and unprotected, have been studied by Petrakos and some new restorations of their appearance have been proposed. These include the family graves and their associated grave stelae, grave reliefs and marble funeral vases (loutrophoroi, lekythoi) – originally displayed above the front wall of the periboloi for public viewing – of important Rhamnousians of the 4th century BC such as Menestides and Euphranor (whose inscription reveals that he was 105 at his death) to the south sacred way or Diogeiton, Phanokrates, Pytharchos to the northern and most importantly the remarkable funerary peribolos of the conspicuous family of Hierokles.83 The Fort. Already in 1977 but especially after the beginning of the 1990s Petrakos turned his attention to the coastal acropolis with the classical fort. Through his excavation method (clearing the full horizontal extent of the acropolis) he revealed great parts of the settlement within the fort basically in its latest phase, that is of the Roman period. But he also revealed older material dating back from the Early Neolithic to the Early Bronze Age, and especially from the Archaic and Classical through the Hellenistic periods. This older material came to light either after digging test pits, because of its secondary use (e.g. the re-use of the flat and durable inscriptions as building material in the houses) or as a result of secondary processes (redepositions, mixed strata). A characteristic example of the first case is a votive deposit especially of blackfigured kylikes, skyphoi and kraters dating from c. 565 to 475 BC which he found within the so called Gymnasion. These votive vases had been deposited there presumably after they had lost their primary function. The deposit, which has been con-

 82 577b. 83 On the funerary peribolos of Hierokles s. 41, 49, 281a, 387–399. On the periboloi of Rhamnous s. 281a, 340–413; 577c, 207–256.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  XXXVII

nected by him with a Dionysos-sanctuary, stood initially in a prominent area, presumably in the area of the Agora.84 A typical example of the second case are, as stated above, the inscriptions. By documenting always their physical support and find place, Petrakos was able to publish (or to republish with enhanced and expanded versions of old readings) a total of c. 980 inscriptions from the site which constitutes the greatest number of inscriptions among the Attic demes. These inscriptions were dated mainly to the Hellenistic period and include decrees mostly of the Athenian garrison stationed in Rhamnous (often together with the demotai of Rhamnous) honouring Generals by describing their duties,85 dedicatory86 and funerary87 inscriptions and graffiti88 and other written documents reflecting the daily life within and outside the fortress. His meticulous studies led also to corrections in the reference corpus of the Inscriptiones Graecae. As in the case of the marble fragments deriving from the fill of the Nemesis-sanctuary, where Petrakos revealed that several inscriptions which were until then published as being decrees of the demos of Sounion, e.g. the lease of land at Herme IG II2 2493 (339/8 BC)89 or the “deme decree” II2 1181 from Sounion90 were not from Sounion but in fact belonged to Rhamnous. It turned out that the confusion was due to the fact that in the turn of the 20th century, when Stais transported some inscriptions which he found in Rhamnous to the National Archaeological Museum along with inscriptions from Sounion. Many of these inscriptions are of great historical interest (for example the already mentioned decree honouring General Epichares for services during the Chremonidean War). Others are of special chronological value since they supplied important contributions to a better understanding of the Athenian calendar (e.g. the honorific decree for General Archandros, which helped to specify the chronology of the Diomedon’s archonship in the year 248/7 BC.91). Others, in turn, document important religious practices such as the decision of the demos of Rhamnous to make an annual sacrifice to king Antigonos Gonatas (form of deification)92 or the existence in Rhamnous of a specific group of youths, named “κρυπτοί”,93 which have been described as being different from the normal citizen

 84 577a, 226–271 figs 94–125. See M. Tiverios in this volume. 85 99, 10; 281b, 5–63 nos 1–61; 577d, 13–15 no 401, 18–60 nos 403–445. 86 281b, 71–131 nos 74–166; 577d, 61–101 nos 446–505. 87 281b, 159–214 nos 204–370α; 577d, 123–126 nos 535–544α. 88 281b, 215–221 nos 371–400; 577d, 127–154 nos 545–807η. 89 281b, 143–146 no. 180. 90 The deme degree II2 1181 from Sounion was in fact a base found in Rhamnous with the inscription showing that it belongs to the ephebes of Αἰγηίς and to Θαρρίας as the σωφρονιστὴς of the ephebes (281b, 85f. no 99). 91 Oliver 2002, 7. 92 281b, 11–13 no. 7. 93 281b, 8–9 no. 3, 26–28 no. 20.

XXXVIII  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos soldiers (stratiotai). The word indicates a special relationship with the Spartan kryptoi, the age group which underwent the Greek rites of passage, where young people were subjected to trials before being incorporated in the community.94 Petrakos’ ability to appreciate quickly the significance of his findings, combined with the careful and swift documentation of his excavations resulted in regular, detailed and comprehensive preliminary reports published uninterruptedly for 27 years in the journal Πρακτικὰ τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας (ΠΑΕ),95 including also an important report of the campaign of 1978 with a summary of his first five years of research which appeared in the ’Αρχαιολογικὴ ’Εφημερίς (ΑΕ) of 1979, the latter an example of Petrakos’ method and erudition.96 The final results of these excavations have been presented in the Βιβλιοθήκη τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας (ΒΑΕ), the publications series of the Archaeological Society at Athens. There are six volumes in total (I-VI) published under the title Ὁ δῆμος τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος: one volume on topography (I), two on epigraphy, graffiti, weights and written evidence (I, VI), one on the fortress (III), one on the Nemeseion (IV) and one on coins, lamps and sculpture (V).97

Secretary General of the Archaeological Society at Athens (1988–Present) While still serving as Ephor of Attica, in June 1988, at the age of 56, distinguished for his passionate determination in protecting and publishing Greek antiquities and for being one of the most brilliant and prolific members of the Archaeological Service in Greece (both as Epimeletes and as Ephor), Petrakos was elected as the 11th Secretary General of the Archaeological Society at Athens, replacing in this position the prominent Aegean archaeologist Georgios Mylonas. It was the first time that a state archaeologist – and not a university-based archaeologist, philologist or architect – was elected to this position. Founded in 1837 with the aim to support scientifically the young Greek Archaeological Service in its tasks of the protection, study and presentation of Greek antiquities, the Archaeological Society played – besides the splendid results of its field activities at important archaeological sites such as Akrotiri on Thera, Mycenae, Zakros, Vergina, Epidaurus, Messene, Dodona, Eleusis or Brauron, to name only some typical

 94 Ma 2008, 194. 95 37, 39, 41, 43, 45, 50, 53, 60, 62, 65, 67, 69, 71, 77, 87, 103, 117, 154, 181, 214, 229, 242, 251, 267, 280, 293, 304. 96 44. 97 281a–b; 577a–d.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  XXXIX

examples – a crucial role also in the construction of the identity and national unity of the modern Greek nation-state. Following Mylonas’ death in April 1988, however, the Society had fallen into a crisis – seemingly of financial, but in reality of a deep-rooted existential nature. For decades the institution had been slowly declining towards something akin to fossilization. Consequently, Petrakos was faced with a number of problems,98 caused not only by the mismanagement of grant funds, but also by the non-publication of the archaeological fieldwork sponsored by the Archaeological Society by those archaeologists responsible for it. As a solution he proposed a set of significant and innovative measures.99 In the next decades, Petrakos committed himself with all his energy, initiative as well as his organizational and administrative skills, to the materialization of these measures. These constituted a break with the past. In retrospect, it is fair to say that under his leadership the Society not only survived the critical years of 1987–1988, but actually entered into a period of rapid academic development and social responsibility. This finally led to the transformation of the Archaeological Society from a basically funding mechanism for archaeological excavations to a real research-oriented institution,100 generating also innovative ways to engage broader parts of the scientific community, especially younger people, in this research. The most important measures taken by Petrakos in order to master these problems can be summarized as follows: (a) Excavating less and instead investing in long-unpublished material brought to light by excavations sponsored by the Archaeological Society. In order to overcome the widespread failure to publish in a timely manner the enormous quantity of the material from excavations of the Society, material long residing in repositories and slowly being forgotten over the course of time, he decided first to limit the number of new excavations carried out by the Archaeological Society and second to initiate an editorial project aiming to increase final publications of excavations in which the Society was directly involved.101 At the same time he encouraged the study of material housed in museum-magazines and warehouses.102 This project eventually proved to be a pragmatic solution, since he managed to push up the number of publications in the series of the Archaeological Society (Βιβλιοθήκη τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας), which for the most part constitute detailed  98 493, 568. 99 127, 1f. 100 In a declaration of intent already published by Petrakos in 1987 in the Ideography of the Archaeological Society (72, 181) he speaks of “a scientific centre of Greek archaeology”. 101 72, 197: “Καιρὸς εἶναι νὰ πάψουν οἱ ἄσκοπες ἀνασκαφὲς καὶ νὰ καταπιαστοῦμε, ὅποιος ἔχει διάθεση καὶ ἐπιστημονικὴ δυνατότητα, μὲ τὴ μελέτη τῶν πραγματικὰ μεγάλων ἀνασκαφῶν τοῦ παρελθόντος. Αὺτὰ ποὺ κινδυνεύουν τὰ φροντίζει ἡ Ὑπηρεσία. Πρέπει νὰ σωθοῦν αὐτὰ ποὺ κινδυνεύουν νὰ λησμονηθοῦν”. 102 493, 565–569.

XL  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos publications of the results of the Society’s excavations, to an unprecented record: he rapidly tripled the number of the volumes published in the first 150 years of the Society’s existence from 106 in 1988 to 327 in 2020. With this strategy of publishing the results of old excavations, he gave at the same time the opportunity to younger archaeologists (including the present writer) to analyze and to publish material from old excavations. (b) He developed an effective archival infrastructure and a proper archival policy in order to ensure the preservation and dissemination of the archives of the Archaeological Society for present and future generations of researchers. Until 1988, various categories of the valuable archive of the Archaeological Society at Athens (papers, photographs, drawings, diaries) were deposited in the basements of its main building, on Panepistimiou Str. 22, widly scattered, the majority of them unclassified and inactive. Based on personal knowledge he had gained from his involvement 30 years earlier (1958) in the organization of the archive of personal papers and manuscripts (copies of the Secretary’s letters, archives of several archaeologists, original correspondence, secreterail papers) and already fully aware firstly of the fact that the Archaeological Society had a considerable amount of archived material from the 19th and 20th centuries and secondly that such material comprised a valuable research resource for the study of Greek archaeology, he proceeded to a systematic classification and conservation of the entire collection of original information records concerning Greek antiquities in order to facilitate access and usage of the documents by a variety of researchers. This collection, which is a result of generations of archaeologists leaving personal and fieldwork-related material to the Archaeological Society because of its place at the foreground of archaeological research, comprised until 1988 three main categories: (1) personal archives of archaeologists (excavation diaries included), (2) photographic material and (3) drawings. (1) Examples of personal archives of archaeologists from 1837 onwards included (a) the important archive-diary of Panagiotis Efstratiadis, who acted as General Ephoros of Antiquities from 1863 to 1884; (b) papers and manuscripts related to Panagiotis Stamatakis and his work in Mycenae, especially letters of Stamatakis to the Archaeological Society containing reports of his activities with descriptions of the antiquities he found and the places he saw; (c) the extensive archives of earlier Secretary Generals of the Archaeological Society such as those of Stephanos Ath. Koumanoudis (Secretary General from 1859 to 1894) or Georgios Oikonomos (Secretary General from 1924 to 1951), to name but a few. Realizing that the Archaeological Society was well placed to develop historiographical research because of the depth and breadth of its archival holdings, Petrakos actively requested the deposit and donation of archival materials of members of the Archaeological Society and of other archaeologists of the Archaeological Service who posess archival material related to Greek archaeology. By incorporating after 1988 new and important archives of archaeologists into the Society’s archive collections

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  XLI

he made the Archaeological Society an important central archival authority. Among these newly bequested archives, which were acquired solely due to his own actions, belong the valuable archive of drawings, scientific notes and photographs of the architect and architectural historian Ioannis Travlos, donated to the Society by its family in 1993,103 the archive of Ioannis Papadimitriou, donated by his son in 1994, a large part of the archive of Christos Karouzos,104 the archive of Dimitrios Pallas and a great part of the archival holdings of Apostolos Arvanitopoulos, including many diaries concerning the Society’s excavations in Thessaly, donated to the Society by the Second Ephoreia. (2) The second category of the collection comprises the photographic archive, which includes both negatives and positive images. The photographic archive, totally unknown before 1988, after the 1990s received constant requests to supply data related to the Greek monuments and the excavations of the Archaeological society. Tens of thousands of photos were for the first time available to researchers. (3) The same holds true for the drawings archive, which was also organized for the first time: thousands of original drawings (architectural plans, object drawings, maps) and artwork (paintings of Émile Gilliéron fils and Alekos Kontopoulos) have been conserved and made available to researchers. Furthermore, he increased public access to these archives. This has been achieved on the one hand through utilising modern technology (all the archival collections have been digitized and large portions of these became available via webbased links) and on the other through exhibitions performed within the central building of the Archaeological Society. Examples of the latter include the 1990 exhibition displaying photographs and drawings from the excavations of Wilhelm Dörpfeld105 and the 2005 exhibition entitled “Peloponnesos 1910, photographic documents” displaying photographs taken in 1910 by the Royal Prussian Photogrammetry Institution under the direction of the German architectural historian Theodor von Lüpke, which had been sent to the Archaeological Exhibition held in Rome in 1911.106 In the context of the dissemination of archaeological data in wider cicles it should also be noted that he provided users of the library of the Archaeological Society, one of the best archaeological libraries in Greece, with an on-line catalogue with advanced search options and enhanced content, such as summaries/abstracts and tables of contents in each item. (c) He initiated an entirely new research area: Research programs related to the ancient monuments and cults of Athens and Attica. Besides the many research pro-

 103 183. 104 233, 185f. 105 112. 106 345.

XLII  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos grams which he, as Secretary General, promoted, either sponsoring them, as the Lexicon of Greek Personal Names (LGPN) project, or hosting them in the central building of the Society, such as the Greek department of Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae (LIMC), he initiated and developed under his direction three research programs related to the study of ancient Athens and Attica. The first one, the Archive of the Monuments of Athens and Attica (ΑΡΜΑ), is a corpus of data comprising every possible source of information related to antiquities (e.g. from hard to find Greek journals of the 19th century such as Philistor, Athenaion, Ora, Ephemeris ton Philomathon) excavated or found in Athens and Attica in the last two centuries. The study is especially important for the 19th century, when regular publication of the excavations conducted in modern sense did not exist. The data were classified on the basis of topographic position and monument category, synthetically presented in order to gain a more complete picture of ancient Athens. In the second one, the Corpus of Attic Funerary Monuments (ΣΕΜΑ), he applied his solid method of examining not only the inscriptions as writings but also the archaeological aspect of the monuments, their physical support.107 The third project, which is still active, is a very useful collection of testimonia on the ancient cults of Athens and Attica. All of these projects have been conducted at the central building of the Archaeological Society by a team of experts in Greek epigraphy.108 (d) He initiated the School of Teaching the History of Art. In compliance with one of the initial aims of the Archaeological Society, he promoted the dissemination of knowledge in wider cicles of the Greek society regarding the history of ancient (Greek and Roman) and modern civilization (art and literature) by initiating the School of Teaching the History of Art.109 The latter owes much, especially after 2003, to the energy and organizing talent of his most trusted advisor and co-editor of this present volume, Dora Vassilikou. (e) With articles in journals, especially in the newly founded Mentor and with substantial and significant public speeches at the Archaeological Society at Athens (fig. 2), he attempted to create an interest in the fate of Greek antiquities – especially among the modern Greeks – and to persuade public opinion that a revision of current attitudes and policies towards antiquities was necessary to avoid further destruction.

 107 184, 4. 108 The results of these research projects have been published by the epigraphists Georgios Papadopoulos, Voula Bardani and Georgia Malouchou and by the archaeologist Ourania Vizyinou as separate monographs in the publication series of the Archaeological Society (ΑΡΜΑ: BAE 127, 136, 177, 247, 265, 304; ΣΕΜΑ: BAE 241). 109 72, 181.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  XLIII

Fig. 2: Vasileios Petrakos, while lecturing in the Great Hall of the Archaeological Society at Athens. To the right is the bust of Alexandros Rizos Rangavis, first Secretary General of the Archaeological Society. Photo 2006: Courtesy of D. Vassilikou.

Besides becoming the general editor of the three already mentioned main periodicals of the Society, Praktika (ΠΑΕ), Archaeologike Ephemeris (ΑΕ) and Ergon (Ἔργον), in 1988 he launched a new one featuring contributions primarily about the history of Greek archaeology, to which he was the chief contributor: the ’Ενημερωτικὸ Δελτίο τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας (EΔAE), a Newsletter of the Archaeological Society, which after 1992 was called ὁ Μέντωρ (Mentor). In many of his Mentor articles and in the introductory speeches in the Ergon each May, Petrakos presented himself as an outspoken and often aggressive critic of acts, contemporary tendencies and attitudes he considered harmful for the Greek antiquities. These include not only acts with obvious irreversible harms such as looting, smuggling and desecrating antiquities but also others such as the opportunictic modern use of archaeological sites and ancient monuments (e.g. ancient theatres) for personal and commercial gain110 or the borrowing of antiquities for travelling exhibitions. The latter had been considered by him also as a harmful act since, ultimately, even a temporary display of an arti-

 110 241, 126.

XLIV  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos fact can lead to the desire to acquire such a piece for a permanent collection, promoting in this way its cultural and economic value and, consequently, the illegal antiquities trade. As Secretary General of the Archaeological Society as well as a former Ephor of Attica, he succeeded in 2002 through his efforts in raising international awareness and in turning much of the scholarly opinion against building activities on the Marathon plain for the Olympics in 2004, the site being of great historical importance, since it was there that the Athenians and Plataeans defeated the Persians in 490 BC. But, as the construction of the Olympic Rowing and Canoeing Centre in Schinias finally showed, unfortunately, he had little success in changing the thinking of the official state and of most of his colleages.

Studies in the History of Greek Archaeology Definition of Subject and Method In addition to his archaeological and epigraphical work Petrakos developed in the early 1980s a strong interest on the historiography and history of Greek archaeology, which has been intensified in the following decades. The term “History of Greek archaeology” is typically understood either as the history of the development of the Greek branch of classical archaeology as an academic discipline (Bronze Age archaeology usually included, at least in name) or more generally still as a history of the exploration of the Greek world, sometimes even as a pure narrative of spectacular finds which have been through the ages brought to light in Greece. Petrakos concentrates on features of different sort. “History of Greek Archaeology” is for him the history of protecting, uncovering and publishing Greek antiquities. To Petrakos historiography of Greek archaeology is basically a history of the institutionalized, professionalized or “scientific” Archaeology in Greece, which begins conventionally on 21 October 1829 with the foundation of the National Museum of Aegina by Ioannis Kapodistrias under the directorship of Andreas Moustoxydis111 and comprises roughly the past 200 years. Obviously, the best way to look at this issue is through surveying the development of the three main Greek institutions devoted to the above topic: The Archaeological Service (’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ὑπηρεσία), The Archaeological Society at Athens (Ἡ ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία) and the archaeological departments of the University. Having a close and long-standing connection with the first two Greek institutions Petrakos focused, naturally, on a survey of their development rather than that of the University. Over the last 40 years (1981 to present) he wrote voluminously on them,

 111 233, 16.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  XLV

while in the same time, by revealing the ideology and the contributions of the persons involved with them, he recognized and emphasized the importance – especially – of the internal political and social factors in the shaping of their development. Building on an extensive research of a mass of documentary data (letters, papers, manuscripts, photos, drawings) stored in the main in the Archives of the Archaeological Society at Athens (many of which were saved due to his own tireless efforts), in the Archives of the Greek Archaeological Service and of the Γενικὰ ’Αρχεῖα τοῦ Κράτους (General Greek State Archives) and taking advantage of the extent of his first-hand information and personal memories, he achieved the Herculean task of having published (until now) no less than 22 monographs as well as 385 articles on the subject, the majority of the latter in the journal Mentor, telling us, among other things, attractive stories we would never known otherwise. 112

Main Works Petrakos’ intention to write a history of the Greek Archaeological Service was already traceable in the early 1980s,113 especially with the publication in 1982 of his Δοκίμιο γιὰ τὴν ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Νομοθεσία (Essay on the Archaeological Legislation).114 In a work characterized by clear logical thinking combined with cautiousness, he offered for the first time a survey and a comprehensive discussion of the most important archaeological laws passed in Greece from 1834 to 1977. Beginning with the first systematic archaeological law, the Regency act of 1834,115 a work of Georg Ludwig v. Maurer, which, following the law-model applicable in Rome, set the stage for a professional Archaeological Service and then continuing with Panagis Kavvadias’ stricter “On antiquities” law 2456 of 1899,116 which gave to the state the exclusive right of ownership over all antiquities and its derivative Codified Law 5351 of 1932,117 Petrakos discussed in extenso a series of lesser known, but yet groundbreaking laws, namely the works of Ioannis Kontis, passed during the period 1960–1966. One of them (the Royal decree 632 of 1960) led to the transfer of the direction of the Archaeological Service, sheltered until then within the Ministry of Education, to the Office of the Prime Minister (Ὑπουργεῖο Προεδρίας). As a result of this ingenious act the General Director of An-

 112 See Bibliography at the end of this text. His 22 monographs are the following: 59, 72, 76, 222, 233, 245, 283, 345, 347, 393, 394, 432, 472, 493, 501, 526, 527, 555, 556, 572, 573, 579. 113 55, 59. 114 59. 115 59, 19–21, 123–141. 116 59, 21f., 94. 117 59, 23–28.

XLVI  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos tiquities, at that time Ioannis Papadimitriou (who was together with Kontis the moving spirit behind this project), acquired ministerial rights,118 something which gave additional prestige and autonomy to the Service, at least for the short period when the law was in force. The book was dedicated by Petrakos to Ioannis Kontis, his second mentor (after I. Papadimitriou), not only as a recognition of his significant contributions to the field of the Greek archaeological legislation but also to acknowledge his debts to him (for knowledge of the history of the Archaeological Service).119 At the time of the Essay’s composition he had been Ephor of Attica and its is clear from his own statement in the preface120 that the book was intended as an aid offered to the staff of the Archaeological Service. The book, which is didactic in style, has rapidly become the standard text on the subject not only for archaeologists of the Archaeological Service, to whom it was basically addressed, but for all archaeologists who are active in Greece and who had to operate according to the provisions of these laws. The study contained also a systematic attempt to describe the structure of the Archaeological Service and its constitutional parts (Ephoroi, Epimeletes, Archaiologiko Symvoulio). Two important monographs appeared five years later, in 1987, concerning the history of the Archaeological Society at Athens. The first, ‘Η ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία. Ἡ ἱστορία τῶν 150 χρόνων της, 1837–1987 (The Archaeological Society at Athens. The History of its 150 years, 1837–1987),121 was written on the occasion of the 150th anniversary of the foundation of the Archaeological Society (at the invitation of G. Mylonas). By offering an outline of the organizational breadth of the Archaeological Sοciety’s history, it not only updated older versions of the same subject by Efthymios Kastorchis in 1879 and Panagis Kavvadias in 1900, as well as two relevant articles of Georgios Oikonomos122 but included also a valuable catalogue of the Society’s excavations up to 1987.123 The second study Ἡ ἰδεογραφία τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας (The Ideography of the Archaeological Society at Athens)124 is a pioneering attempt to reveal the Society’s intellectual unity throughout its existence, despite the political, ideological and personal differences of its members. After Petrakos became General Secretary of the Archaeological Society (1988) he expanded the topics of his 1982 Essay on Archaeological Law to include important articles on the antiquities law, on issues of ethics and prosopographical matters, among

 118 493 I, 436. 119 As he explicitly states (526 I, 449): “Ἡ δικιά μου στροφὴ πρὸς σχετικὲς μελέτες ὀφείλεται σὲ συζητήσεις μὲ παλαιοτέρους μου, κυρίως μὲ τὸν ’Ιωάννη Κοντῆ…”. 120 59, 9. 121 76. 122 76, 12. 123 76, 343–372. 124 72.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  XLVII

other matters. Almost all of these articles appeared in the newly founded journal Mentor, which contained mainly contributions related to the history of the Greek archaeology. Petrakos next important monograph appeared in 1994. It was a study about the position of Greek antiquities and Greek achaeologists during World War II and the period of the Nazi occupation of Greece (1940–1944).125 With this work he presented for the first time, in a comprehensive way, the coordinated activities and attitudes of the Greek archaeologists concerning the protection of the antiquities during the period of Germany’s military administration. His story illuminates vividly the protection measures, especially the hiding of the antiquities in the cellars of the museums both in Athens (National Archaeological Museum, Acropolis Museum) and outside Attica (Museum of Delphi, Olympia etc).126 Furthermore he discussed the role of the newly established Nazi institutions related to the antiquities in Greece, especially the Kunstschutz for Greece.127 This valuable study was the result of original research based on a variety of documentary sources (papers, letters, manuscripts and notes) stored in the Archive of the Archaeological Service, the Archaeological Society’s archive but also on letters of Hans Ulrich v. Schönebeck, the director of Kunstschutz for Greece, which are stored at the University of Cologne.128 The publication one year later (1995) of his well-known book entitled Ἡ περιπέτεια τῆς ἑλληνικῆς ’Αρχαιολογίας στὸν βίο τοῦ Χρήστου Καρούζου (The Adventure of Greek Archaeology in the life of Christos Karouzos)129 is a milestone in the history of the archaeology of Greece for several reasons. First of all, Petrakos defined for the first time the framework within which institutionalized archaeology in Greece has been carried out and divided this timeframe into six main periods:130 (1) the period 1834– 1885 (L. Ross, K. Pittakis, P. Efstratiadis and P. Stamatakis), (2) the period 1885–1909 (P. Kavvadias), (3) the period 1909–1933, (4) the period 1933–1958 (Georgios Oikonomos and of the University professors), (5) the period 1958–1967 (I. Papadimitriou and I. Kontis) and (6) the period 1967–1995 (the period of decline). The book bears, furthermore, striking evidence for Petrakos’ use of prosopography as a historical tool in order to investigate not only the “adventurous” development and structure of the institutionalized Greek Archaeology during the period of the 48 years of Karouzos’ archaeological action (between 1919 and 1967), but also to examine the social aspect of the work of the Greek archaeologists during this period. Focusing on Karouzos as a historical figure and using original archival material, Petrakos studied his correspondence, contacts and connections with other persons, often of very different  125 222. 126 222, 87–102. 127 222, 117–128. 128 222, 177. 129 233. 130 233, 22.

XLVIII  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos ideological and intellectual background. A number of biographies of persons linked to Karouzos, among them Ιοannis Miliades, Georgios Oikonomos, Apostolos Arvanitopoulos, Spyridon Marinatos, Antonios Keramopoullos, Phoibos Stavropoullos, Markellos Mitsos, Ioannis Papadimitriou and Ioannis Kontis were presented in this book, too, for this reason. But these are not individual biographies by themselves, at least not in the literal sense of the word, since they were used by Petrakos only in order to provide information about the general picture. By comparing and contrasting these persons with Karouzos he was able to reveal and determine specific configurations and patterns, such as the “wars” between ideologically opposed Ephors and University Professors (Karouzos, Papadimitriou and Kontis versus Oikonomos, Marinatos and Nikolaos Kontoleon) or between older and young members of the Archaeological Service (Karouzos versus Vasileios Kallipolitis).131 Hereby he offered insights into the social and political dynamics of Greek society following World War I until the regime of the Colonels in 1967. It is interesting to note that the same applies in the case for Karouzos. Petrakos’ Karouzos is the “leader of the branch of the archaeology” in the post-war-period Greece not because he was a brilliant mind or a powerful individual but because “it was he who represented the scientific-national intentions of the archaeologists of the Service”.132 Again the idea behind such statements is that the individual and exceptional (here Karouzos) is important only insofar as it represents the collective, which in our case are the archaeologists of the Archaeological Service as a whole. This approach was, of course, not something that appeared here for the first time in Petrakos’ work. It has been amply and well demonstrated already before this time (mid-1990s) with a number of “biographies” of Greek archaeologists, especially those of the 19th century, such as Kyriakos Pittakis, Panagiotis Efstratiadis, Panagiotis Stamatakis, Stephanos A. Koumanoudis, Panagis Kavvadias, Valerios Stais, but also those of the 20th century such as Ioannis Papadimitriou, Ioannis Kontis, Ioanna Konstantinou, Ioannis Travlos, Georgios Mylonas and Pavlos Lazaridis or even of foreign archaeologists, whose work was associated with any of the above, such as Wilhelm Dörpfeld and René Ginouvès.133 Given the quantity of his biographies, one gains the impression that his main aim was to create a database of persons related to the basic institutions of protecting and investigating Greek antiquities, a ‘Who’s Who’ in Greek Archaeology in order to detect the common elements that connect these individuals.

 131 233, 155. 132 233, 179. 133 Kyriakos Pittakis: 96, 115, 199, 432; Panagiotis Efstratiadis: 80, see also 394; Panagiotis Stamatakis: 105, 178, 179, see also 297, 568; Stephanos A. Koumanoudis: 85, 95, 101; Panagis Kavvadias: 176, 572; Valerios Stais: 130; Ioannis Papadimitriou: 84, 164, see also 255, 257; Ioannis Kontis: 89, see also 261; Ioanna Konstantinou: 90; Ioannis Travlos: 219; Georgios Mylonas: 102, see also 501, 592; Pavlos Lazaridis: 170; Wilhelm Dörpfeld: 112; René Ginouvès: 224.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  XLIX

This claim is supported by a statement of Petrakos in his Ideography of the Archaeological Society at Athens:134 ”The Archaeological Society”, he writes, “is an abstract concept, it does not have a separate existence. It is the result of the work of the people who made it. If we substract even one portion from it, it ceases to be complete and the creative image of the Society changes”. (Ἡ Ἑταιρεία εἶναι ἀφηρημένη ἔννοια, δὲν ἔχει ξεχωριστὴ ὕπαρξη. Εἶναι τὸ ἔργο τῶν ἀνθρώπων ποὺ τὴν ἀποτελοῦσαν ἑνωμένο. Ἄν ἀπὸ αὐτὸ ἀφαιρέσουμε τὴ μερίδα ἔστω καὶ ἑνός, παύει νὰ εἶναι πλῆρες καὶ ἡ δημιουργικὴ εἰκόνα τῆς Ἑταιρείας ἀλλάζει). This helps us further to understand why Petrakos was never interested to write an archaeological biography of a powerful individual such as Heinrich Schliemann or Arthur Evans, although both played a decisive role in the development and autonomy of Greek archaeology. Schliemann, for example, is not considered by Petrakos for his great achievements, but he is seen purely in a negative way, through the eyes of Stamatakis, his overseer at Mycenae, who represented the Archaeological Society and the Greek State135 and accordingly, the collective eye. Although this approach certainly emphasizes Petrakos’ desire to give one underappreciated Greek archaeologist, as indeed Stamatakis was, his due, both for his role in protecting antiquities as well as for documenting and saving Schliemann’s excavated monuments and finds and therefore advancing the knowledge of the past,136 the decisive element is here, in our opinion, the fact that the Ephor Stamatakis, “one of the most significant Greek archaeologists of the 19th century”, a person who represented the Greek state, i.e. the common conceptual framework of the Greeks,137 was offended by the arrogant actions and attitudes of Schliemann and his wife. In the following years, Petrakos added new biographies to his database. With the exception of some persons active in the the 19th century such as the painter Athanasios Iatrides and the historian of modern Athens Dimitrios Kambouroglou, the time span of all the others covered the whole 20th century. These include archaeologists such as Christos Tsountas, Vasileios Leonardos, Nikolaos Zapheiropoulos, Spyridon Marinatos, Sotirios Dakaris, Varvara Philippaki, Anastasios Orlandos, Georgios Oikonomos, Nikolaos Papachatzis, Maria Theochari, Athena Kalogeropoulou, Maria Oikonomakou, Panagiotis Velissariou, Georgios Dontas, Semni Karouzou, Eos Zervoudaki, Stylianos Alexiou, Georgios Despinis, Nikolaos Yalouris, Spyros Iakovidis, Angelos Delivorrias, the architect Aristeidis Passadeos, the numismatist Manto Oikonomidou, foreign archaeologists such as Humfry Payne, Pierre Amandry and Luigi Beschi, historians like Michael Sakellariou and Tasos Gritsopoulos, the art historian Chrysanthos Christou, the egyptologist Jean Leclant, as well as persons from

 134 72, 185. 135 297, 38. 136 297, 41. 137 A similar view can be found in the Mentor of the year 1995: the power of the Ephors is “natural” because they “represent and protect the interests of the Greek people” (234, 3).

L  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos the field of art and literature who had a certain relationship to the World of the Greek Antiquities or the Greek consciousness in general, such as the linguist Dikaios Vagiakakos, the politicians and writers Angelos Vlachos and Maurice Druon, the writer and heroic soldier Patrick Michael Leigh Fermor, the poet Kiki Dimoula, the theatre director Spyros Evangelatos, and the archaeological photographer Nikolaos Tombazis.138 Part of this prosopographical work was illuminated in a brilliant photographic exhibition, which took place in 2011 at the Central Building of the Archaeological Society. The exhibition featured the work of some of the most important Greek archaeologists, especially excavators, who have shaped the continuity of the history of the Archaeological Society from 1837 to 2011.139 In the last decade (2009–2019), building basically on this prosopographical method and work as well in publishing a mass of up to then unknown or unedited papers, Petrakos turned to what would be the culmination of his systematic historiography of Greek archaeology. Four monumental monographs testify to this: The first, Ἡ ἐλληνικὴ αὐταπάτη τοῦ Λουδοβίκου (Ludwig Ross’ Greek Illusion) (2009), uses Kyriakos Pittakis as the protagonist of his story, in order to feature the bureaucratic and scientific aspects of the Greek archaeology during this early period, the period of Otto’s reign (1833–1863). The book illustrates the indigenous scientific shortcomings of the Archaeological Service during the first decades after the successful end of the War of Independence. This was effected in particular by contrasting Pittakis’ views against those of Ludwig Ross on several important issues, such as the freedom of scientific research (case of the Athenian Navy Lists, found by Ross in Piraeus in 1834, which finally led to Ross’ displacement from his post as Ephor of Antiquities of Greece in 1836)140 or the view on the Greek past, which in the case of Pittakis was not far from a hero-cult. In contrast to earlier works in Greek scholarship, Petrakos here places emphasis on the different intellectual and scientific backgrounds of the persons responsible for the scientific archaeological policy of Greece.

 138 Athanasios Iatrides: 288, see also 526 I; Dimitrios Kambouroglou: 420; Christos Tsountas: 529; Vasileios Leonardos: 573; Nikolaos Zapheiropoulos: 248 Spyridon Marinatos: 527, 528; Sotirios Dakaris: 249; Varvara Philippaki: 264; Anastasios Orlandos: 291; Georgios Oikonomos: 316; Nikolaos Papachatzis: 325; Maria Theochari: 352; Athena Kalogeropoulou: 359, 521; Maria Oikonomakou: 388; Panagiotis Velissariou: 387; Georgios Dontas: 490, 491; Semni Karouzou: 225, 263, 473, 474; Eos Zervoudaki: 417; Stylianos Alexiou: 505, 512; Georgios Despinis: 516; Nikolaos Yalouris: 476; Spyros Iakovidis: 497, 499, 514; Angelos Delivorrias: 567, 570; Aristeidis Passadeos: 389; Manto Oikonomidou: 570; Humfry Payne: 269; Pierre Amandry: 379, 380; Luigi Beschi: 531; Michael Sakellariou: 515; Tasos Gritsopoulos: 419; Chrysanthos Christou: 542; Jean Leclant: 367, 376, 468; Dikaios Vagiakakos: 541; Angelos Vlachos: 327, 333, 335; Maurice Druon: 435; Patrick Michael Leigh Fermor: 467; Kiki Dimoula: 328, 506, 564; Spyros Evangelatos: 551; Nikolaos Tombazis: 425. 139 472. 140 432, 84–112.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  LI

The second, the two-volumed Πρόχειρον ’Αρχαιολογικὸν 1828–2012 (Procheiron Archaiologikon 1828–2012) (2013),141 is Petrakos’ most recent attempt at imposing order on the development of scientific archaeology in Greece from 1828 to 2012, hereby heavily revising many aspects of his 1982 Essay and in some cases also his 1995 Adventure. By stressing the existence of further important changes within the time frames of his initial six period-definition of Greek scientific archaeology, Petrakos succeeded in more sharply subdividing in his own periodization. The whole time span is now divided in 16 periods: (1) the period 1828–1829 (the first period of I. Kapodistrias), (2) the period 1829–1832 (A. Moustoxydis), (3) the period 1834–1863 (L. Ross/ K. Pittakis), (4) the period 1864–1885 (P. Efstratiadis/P. Stamatakis), (5) the period 1885–1898 (P. Kavvadias’ first period), (6) the period 1898–1909 (P. Kavvadias’ second period), (7) the period 1910–1925 (the period of the heads of departments), (8) the period 1925–1933 (the second period of K. Kourouniotis) (9) the period 1933–1938 (G. Oikonomos/Sp. Marinatos), (10) the period 1940–1944 (WW II and Nazi occupation), (11) the period 1945–1958 (the post-WW II era), (12) the period 1958–1963 (I. Papadimitriou) (13) the period 1963–1967 (I. Kontis) (14) the period 1967–1974 (Sp. Marinatos), (15) the period 1975–1981 (D. Lazaridis/N. Yalouris), (16) the period of decline (1981–present). Within these newly defined time frames which are, to a large extent, in accordance with the political changes which took place in Greece in the last two centuries, Petrakos arranged chronologically (a) actions and attitudes related to the Greek legislation on the protection of antiquities,142 the establishment of archaeological museums,143 the architectural restorations,144 but also the conducting of archaeological excavations within a controlled environment, the documentation of the excavated material (writing of archaeological publications),145 the creation of archaeological journals, the establishment of institutions such as the Archaeological Service and the Archaeological Society at Athens in 1828 and 1837 respectively and the foundation of the foreign schools,146 first the French Archaeological School in 1846 and than the others later in the 19th century. Petrakos’ fine periodization is significant for at least two reasons: first, because through the process of the “apostolic succession” he establishes a tradition in Greek institutionalized archaeology, which begins with Andreas Moustoxydis as the first

 141 493 I-II. As the choice of the title implies (it refers directly to the famous Middle Byzantine lawbook “Prochiron”), the two-volumed work is an archaeological handbook of didactic character addressed this time not just to the Greek archaeologists working in Greece, but to the younger generation: “I wrote this book”, he says “because the older (things) must be known to the younger ones” (493 I, 722). 142 493 II, 117–190. 143 493 II, 215–219. 144 493 II, 191–214. 145 493 II, 225–246. 146 472, 39–44.

LII  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos state archaeologist (in the decree for his appointment of 21.10.1829 he is called “Director and Ephor of the National Museum”)147 and through L. Ross, K. Pittakis, P. Efstratiadis, P. Stamatakis, P. Kavvadias reaches the Greek archaeologists of the 20th century and thereby the present day. Second, because by making clear that the above defined succession of periods is associated not only with specific persons but in most of the cases also with political changes, he draws attention to the fact that internal political changes in Greece had a greater impact on the development of the scientific archaeology of the country than previously thought. Future works may have to check the validity of such a finely differentiated scheme against some detailed case studies, and how such schemes may help the future study of the history of science. The third, the impressive three-volumed Ἡμερολόγιο ’Αρχαιολογικό. Τὰ χρόνια τοῦ Καποδίστρια 1828–1832 (Archaeological Diary. The Years of Kapodistrias 1828– 1832) (2015), focuses on the earliest history of the Archaeological Service during the period of the Ioannis Kapodistrias government. Petrakos’ narrative of events, based on a thorough analysis of 734 written documents of this period stored in the General State Archives of Greece, on the manuscript archive of the National Library of Greece and on official papers from the Andreas Moustoxydis archive housed at the Metropolis on Corfu, demonstrates emphatically the substantial interest and importance of Kapodistrias’ activities concerning the preservation of Greek antiquities. He shows that the “history of Greek archaeology” does not begin in May 1834 with the Regency Act of Maurer but six years earlier: first, with Kapodistrias letter no. 2400/12 May 1828 “to the acting commissioners to the Aegean”, in which for the first time it is implied that the Greek antiquities belong to the State, with Panagiotis Anagnostopoulos’ circular letter 73 dated on in 7 October 1829, which Petrakos considers (at least the last part of it) as a systematic archaeological law for this early period and thirdly with the foundation of the first National Museum on Aegina (founding law of 21.10.1829). This viewpoint comes into conflict with long-standing prejudices, e.g. that the Service was originated by the Regency, after the destruction of the Aegina museum and the transfer of the antiquities from Aegina to Athens. Petrakos’ narrative continues with the analytical description of the work of Moustoxydis, director and Ephor of the first National Museum, a prominent philologist of his time and also familiar with the contemporary European museums, especially the Italian ones. Moustoxydis is the centerpiece of Petrakos’ book, and Petrakos has done us a service in stressing his role in protecting and rescuing antiquities in Greek territory during the period 1829–1831, at a time when the borders of the country were reduced to the Aspropotamos-Spercheios line (London protocol of 3.2.1830) and in transferring them (mainly sculptures and inscriptions) to Aegina. Among Moustoxydis’ activities, Petrakos highlights a draft decree for the protection of antiquities – somehow strange in its strictness. It became official law only in 1847, substantially modified.  147 526 I, 130; II, 275 no 224. See also 444, 18.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  LIII

With this eye-opening publication Petrakos pays tribute to his mentor Ioannis Papadimitriou. It was he who, during his service on Corfu in the period 1931–1948, having found the archive of Moustoxydis in the Metropolis of the Ionian island, initially studied and copied a mass of official papers of the correspondence between Moustoxydis and the acting commissioners. Busy with many and important other duties until his death in 1963, he never finished the task of its publication. The fourth, the recently published Ἡ ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία. Οἱ πρῶτες δεκαετίες 1837–1909 (The Archaeological Society at Athens. The First Decades 1837–1909) (2019), which is considered by Petrakos as a supplement to his Ideography of 1987, brings together a great selection of archival sources (handwritten acts of the Archaeological Society’s Board of Administration, papers of the Society’s archive, related records of contemporary newspapers) to illuminate the first 72 years of the turbulent history of the Archaeological Society at Athens, an institution which, especially until 1894, when P. Kavvadias became its Secretary, constituted the most important force within scientific Greek archaeology. From the displacement of Ludwig Ross in 1836 which caused a deep crisis in Greek archaeology and led to the foundation of the Archaeological Society in 6 January 1837148 through the creation of a scientific institution under the leadership of Stephanos A. Koumanoudis (1859–1894) until Panagis Kavvadias’ first secretaryship (1894–1909), the honoree illustrates the Society’s difficult transition from the “heroic” period (which according to Petrakos ends with Stamatakis) to the “scientific” era. Covering a period characterized by internal conflicts and division, Petrakos’ wide-ranging volume presents the main work carried out by the Archaeological Society during this period, that is the work related to the recovery of Greek antiquities, among others the famous excavations of P. Efstratiadis and P. Kavvadias on the Athenian Acropolis, which yielded one of the most important collections of material in the history of Greek archaeology. Hereby this important book provides the basis for students of Greek archaeology to examine the way scientific work was carried out by Greek archaeologists in the 19th century, their archaeological ideology as well as the Archaeological Society’s position in the Greek society of that time. Central Elements Integral to Petrakos’ Concept of Greek Archaeology It is not possible to extract from Petrakos' work related to the history of Greek archaeology a single unified view of Greek archaeology. Nevertheless, it is possible to pick out certain recurring themes in his thoughts on the discipline: (a) Greek Archaeology: The Systematic Attempt to Protect Greek Antiquities. “History of Greek Archaeology” is for Petrakos, as we have seen, above all, “history of protecting Greek antiquities”, which comprises mainly the “pragmatic” and “systematic” attempts of mainly Greek and – to a lesser extent – foreign archaeologists to preserve and publish Greek antiquities.  148 572, 345.

LIV  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos (b) Special Relationship Between Scientific and Legal Archaeology. In his concept of “systematic care for antiquities” and “scientific archaeology” the emphasis is always on archaeological legislation. It is obvious that he chooses this connection to make the point that legal archaeology and science are closely related, indeed inextricable: “Archaeology as a science in Greece, I repeat, takes shape only when it begins to be practiced in accordance with the law” (Ἡ ἀρχαιολογία ὡς ἐπιστήμη στὴν Ἑλλάδα, ἐπαναλαμβάνω, ἀποκτᾶ μορφὴ μόνον ὅταν ἄρχισε νὰ ἀσκεῖται σύμφωνα μὲ τὸν νόμο).149 (c) European Style “Ethnocentric” or “Statecentric” Concept. The connection between science and legal archaeology implies that the “true” period of scientific research for Greek antiquities coincides completely with the period of life of the modern Greek nation-state. And indeed, Petrakos’ history begins, as we have seen, with the beginning of Kapodistrias’ government in 1828 and spans the entire period from 1828 to the present. In this sense one could also describe his work as an attempt to write a “history of Greece’s national policy concerning the protection and preservation of the antiquities”. Petrakos’ concept can, therefore, be regarded somehow as “ethnocentric” or “statecentric”, since it abides by the European-style concept concerning the history of the archaeology of a modern nation-state. Earlier attempts to re-discover the classical past in Greece (from the Renaissance until the early 19th century) are excluded from this delineation of research. (d) Against “Archaeological Nationalism”. Petrakos’ writings are not those of a national who tries to “defend” every action or attitude of his native nation-state and/or its population as related to Greek antiquities, and so to produce an aggravating polemic. On the contrary, for the honoree “archaeological nationalism”, at least in its definition as a “pseudo-romantic” retrojection onto ancient Greece, either in the form of K. Pittakis’ hero-cult or in the emotional connection between the modern population of Greece and the ancient Greek monuments,150 should be regarded as one of the greatest threats to Greek archaeology. In his opinion, identification with the ancient Greeks – as expressed in nationalistic archaeology – is a substitute for true identity and represents a regression to an earlier, primitive stage of cultural development. (e) Against “Self-interested” Individualism.151 A common theme in Petrakos’ writings, especially in his numerous “biographies” of archaeologists, is to praise the willigness of these archaeologists to do their duty and to handle matters for the benefit of the Archaeological Service, i.e. for the good of the antiquities, even if in this way someone works against his own interests and needs. Collectivistic thinking is implied here, a concept reinforced by the importance he attaches to similar principles such as the unity of the spirit of the members of a group related to the protection and study of

 149 526 I, VII. 150 Compare for example the case of Amphipolis (533). 151 The plea against the “spirit of scientific individuality” is a common theme in Petrakos’ writings (e.g. 296, 22).

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  LV

Greek monuments (such as was the case with the Archaeological Society at Athens). Petrakos himself credited this way of thinking to his mentor Ioannis Papadimitriou.152 (f) An Aura of Pessimism Permeates Vasileios Petrakos’ Sense of History of Greek Archaeology. As he repeatedly explains, the concept of progress, which prevailed in the period 1960–1967, became perverted during the period 1967–1974 and even more so after 1981. His disappointment stems, as one can understand, from the fact that Greek society allowed progress in archaeological matters to become a pawn in the hands of politicians whose goals centered upon political domination rather than upon an active promotion of the principles of the protection of Greek antiquities. This frustration should come as no surprise, since Petrakos belongs to the generation of Greek State archaeologists (employed in the first half of the 1960s), which experienced the adoption of an employment system based on hard work and study (meritocracy). Although the existence of a personal network was a further necessity, the employment was not solely based on personal or/and political connections, as is apparently the case in the later periods. The elimination of their hopes and expectations led them to challenge the notion of progress. Significance of his Work The brief development of the honoree’s works related to the history of Greek archaeology presented above bears evidence for an orderly style of thought as well as for an intellectual confidence in handling a combination of complex matters deriving from several scientific fields: in addition to classical archaeology, we should add archaeological ethics, sociological and psychological theory and political science. Consequently, it is clear that Petrakos’ work is invaluable to the study of the history of Greek archaeology. Not just because his highly informative studies are a gold mine for anyone interested in the study of the history of Greek archaeology, but more importantly because he succeeded in transforming a mass of unstructured information related to the protection and systematic investigation of Greek antiquities into solid and normalized public memory. In this sense, Vasileios Petrakos can be considered as one of the “founding fathers of the historiography of scientific Greek archaeology.”

Member and Secretary General of the Academy of Athens (2000 to the present) In honour of his significant scientific work on Greek archaeology and epigraphy Petrakos was elected in 2000, at the age of 68, Member of the Academy of Athens as a holder of the chair of Archaeology-Epigraphy (fig. 3). From the time of his election (2000) and especially since  as Secretary General of the Academy, Petrakos has  152 164, 118.

LVI  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos unceasingly fostered the activities of the Academy of Athens with commitment and dedication to his duties.

Fig. 3: Angelos Delivorrias (right) congratulating Vasileios Petrakos (left) on becoming member of the Academy of Athens. Photo 2000: Courtesy of D. Vassilikou.

From the beginning of his membership, besides giving substantial and significant public speeches on epigraphical matters,153 Petrakos played a central role in creating an interest among the public in the fate of Greek antiquities, especially during turbulent periods such as the period of the Greek War of independence (1821–1828)154 or the period of WW II (1940–1944)155. As already mentioned, his 2002–2004 initiatives as well as his energetic efforts against the building of the Olympic Centre in the historic site of Marathon were however ignored by the Greek government. Petrakos’ election to the position of the Secretary for the Publications of the Academy (–) and more so since  as Secretary General of the Academy has given fresh impetus to the production of the Institution’s scientific work. As in the  153 303. 154 307. 155 308.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  LVII

case of the Archaeological Society, rather than organizing conferences, Petrakos promoted the publication policy of the Academy. Important archaeological projects-databases, lapsed over the course of time, such as the Tabula Imperii Romani (TIR) were now, under his scientific supervision, revitalized.156 The same holds true for the publication of Lexica such as the Χρηστικό Λεξικό της Νεοελληνικής Γλώσσας (A User’s Lexicon of Modern Greek Language) (2014).157 Chief among his scientific contributions, which can be placed within the framework of his Academy duties, was the writing of two important monographs and a number of articles on the history and pre-history of the Academy of Athens. His first monograph is entitled “’Αρχαιολογικὸς Σύλλογος. Ἡ πρώτη ’Ακαδημία στὴν ἐλευθερωμένη Ἑλλάδα 1848–1854” (Archaeological Association. The First Academy in liberated Greece 1848–1854) (2007) and deals with the first ambitious attempt on the part of liberated Greece to create an Academy of Science along the lines of the great western ones from Germany and especially akin to the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres of the Institut de France.158 The whole project was an idea of Alexandros Rangavis, the first Secretary General of the Archaeological Society, who desired to unite all the existing scientific associations in Athens. The results finally did not satisfy Rangavis and the association was dissolved in 1854, during the year of the Athenian plague. However, by focusing closely on this carefully selected organization that existed only over a relatively short period of time (1848–1854), Petrakos succeeded in exploring a number of important issues not only relevant to the history of the “ideas about the Academy” but also to the history of Greek archaeology. His thorough treatment of the subject provides solid evidence for the fact that this small circle of intellectuals, which included beside Rangavis such as P. Efstratiadis and Patriarch Konstantios I, had concrete and original ideas about the use of the past as well as about the role of their Academy within a wider European environment. Petrakos documents thus (a) actions which follow ancient Greek practices, such as the erection of a marble stele with the “ψήφισμα τῶν Εὐεργετῶν” (decree of the Benefactors) following the donation of Konstantions I,159 (b) the practice of sending the publications of their excavations and researches (here the inscriptions from the House of Louisa Psoma in Athens) to esteemed European scholars (to August Boeckh and Ludwig Ross in Germany),160 but also (c) matters of archaeological legislation (the right of publication of these inscriptions).

 156 See http://www.academyofathens.gr/el/research/centers/antiquity/ekdoseis-2 under “Tabula Imperii Romani”. 157 523. 158 394, 49. 159 394, 56–61. 160 394, 70–77.

LVIII  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Petrakos’ second monograph on the subject concerns the 20th century and is entitled “Ἡ ’Ακαδημία ’Αθηνῶν. Χρονογραφικὴ προσωπογραφία” (2019) (The Academy of Athens. A Chronographical Prosopography). Following the method he used to reveal the history of the Archaeological Society, Petrakos brings together archival handwritten acts of the Plenary sessions of the Academy, acts of the sessions of the three sections of the institution and the rich relevant material published in the press in order to illuminate the first 93 years of the history of the Academy of Athens, an institution whose foundation, although conceived of in 1824,161 only came to be in 1926.162 The centerpiece of the book is the narrative of persons and events of the second section, in which Petrakos also belongs, and chief among them is the case of Karouzos/Marinatos, i.e. the discussion in the Plenum of the Academy on the election of either Christos Karouzos or Spyridon Marinatos for the chair in archaeology. Both candidates played an important role in the Archaeology of Greece during the post-civil war period in Greece (1952–1954): important persons such as Antonios Keramopoulos, Anastasios Orlandos, Konstantinos Rhomaios and Sokratis Kougeas, who belonged to the social network of one or the other of the candidates, gave speeches in order to defend or to criticise on behalf of their man. In 130 pages163 Petrakos documents views which are expressed about the science of archaeology but also about non-archaeological matters such as the political and social ideology of the candidates or the back then intensively discussed Greek language question. This was the time, as Petrakos notes, when it was “a crime to have opposed the other’s political views or to write in Demotic Greek”.164

Distinctions In the course of his career Vasileios Petrakos has been a member of numerous boards and committees and has received many honours and awards. He has also served as a member on public committees and councils, among them the Central Archaeological Council (ΚΑΣ) and the Committee for the Conservation of the Acropolis Monuments (ESMA). He acted also as a Secretary General of the XII Conference of Classical Archaeology (1983). He has the distinction of having been awarded the Ministerial award of the Greek Government for the year 1981 and the Marangopoulos foundation award of the Academy of Athens for the year 1986. He is a corresponding member of the German Archaeological Institute in Berlin, member of the Historical and Ethno-

 161 394, 5 n. 7. 162 574, 25. 163 574, 357–487. 164 574, 487.

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logical Society of Greece, of the Society of Laconian Studies, the Society for Peloponnesian Studies, a lifetime member of the Archaeological Society at Athens and since 1988 its Secretary General, foreign corresponding member (1996) and associate foreign member (1998) of the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres of the Institut de France, a member of the Academy of Athens as holder of the chair of ArchaeologyEpigraphy (2000), Secretary for the Publications of the Academy (–), and finally Secretary General of the Academy (–present).

Publications (1960–2020) Special Abbreviations BAE = Βιβλιοθήκη τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας [= Library of the Archaeological Society at Athens] ΕΔΑΕ = ’Ενημερωτικὸ Δελτίο τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας. Ὁ Μέντωρ = Χρονογραφικὸ καὶ Ἱστοριοδιφικὸ Δελτίο τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας. 1960 1. “Ἔρευναι καὶ ἀρχαῖα μνημεῖα ’Αττικῆς”, in: ΑΔ 16 Β, 35–40 (with I. Kontis). 1961/1962 2. “Δελφικὴ ἐπιγραφὴ ἐξ ’Ερετρίας”, in: ΑΔ 17 Α, 211–214. 3. “’Αττική”, in: ΑΔ 17 Β, 29–36. 4. “Εὔβοια”, in: ΑΔ 17 Β, 144–157. 1963 5. “’Αττικὴ καὶ Αἴγινα”, in: ΑΔ 18 Β1, 43–52 (with V. G. Kallipolitis). 6. “Εὔβοια”, in: ΑΔ 18 Β1, 121–127 (with V. G. Kallipolitis). 7. “Dédicace des ’Αειναῦται d’Érétrie”, in: BCH 87, 545–547. 1964 8. “’Ερέτρια”, in: ’Εγκυκλοπαιδικὸν Λεξικὸν ’Ελευθερουδάκη. Συμπλήρωμα τόμου Β, Athens, 1209– 1211. 1965 9. Doctoral Dissertation, University of Lyon, Institut d’épigraphie Grecque - Institut Fernand Courby. Title: Les inscriptions d’Oropos; published in 1997 in a revised and expanded form (see no 252). 1966 10. “’Επιγραφαὶ ’Ωρωποῦ”, in: ΑΔ 21 Α, 45–49. 11. “Λέσβος”, in: ΑΔ 21 Β, 383f. 1967 12. “Τὸ ’Αμφιάρειον τοῦ ’Ωρωποῦ. Τοπογραφικὰ καὶ ἐπιγραφικὰ θέματα”, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 106, Χρονικά, 1–13.

LX  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos 13. “Νέαι πηγαὶ περὶ τοῦ Χρεμωνιδείου πολέμου”, in: ΑΔ 22 Α, 38–52. 14. “Μυτιλήνη”, in: ΑΔ 22 Β2, 445–462. 15. “’Ανασκαφὴ περὶ τῶν Μέσων Λέσβου”, in: ΠΑΕ 122, 96–102. 1968 16. Ὁ ’Ωρωπὸς καὶ τὸ ἱερὸν τοῦ ’Αμφιαράου, ΒΑΕ 63, Athens. Review: D. M. Pippidi, in: Studii Clasice 12, 1970, 317f. 17. “’Επιγραφαὶ ’Ωρωποῦ”, in: ΑΑΑ 1, 69–73. 18. “’Επιγραφαὶ ’Ερετρίας”, in: ΑΔ 23 Α, 99–116. 19. “’Ανασκαφὴ τοῦ ναοῦ τῶν Μέσων Λέσβου”, in: ΠΑΕ 123, 84–86. 20. “Λέσβος. Περισυλλογὴ ἀρχαίων”, in: ΠΑΕ 123, 187. 21. “Λέσβος”, in: ΑΔ 23 Β, 372. 1969 22. “Θέατρον Μυτιλήνης”, in: ΑΑΑ 2, 196–198. 23. “Ψηφιδωτὰ ἐκ Μυτιλήνης”, in: ΑΑΑ 2, 239–243. 24. “Μυτιλήνη”, in: ΑΔ 24 Β2, 368–371. 1970 25. “Δελφοί”, in: ΑΔ 25 Β1, 264. 1971 26. “’Αρχαιότητες καὶ μνημεῖα Φθιώτιδος καὶ Φωκίδος”, in: ΑΔ 26 Β1, 280–284. 27. Δελφοί, Athens; English translation of first Greek edition: Delphi, Athens 1971; French translation of first Greek edition: Guide de Delphes, Athènes 1971. 1972 28. “’Αρχαιότητες καὶ μνημεῖα Φθιώτιδος καὶ Φωκίδος”, in: ΑΔ 27 Β2, 374–388. 29. Νεώτερες ἐπιγραφὲς τῆς Μυτιλήνης, Athens; reprinted as BAE 299, Athens 2015, and in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 28 (114), 293–344. 1973 30. “’Επιγραφαὶ ’Ωρωποῦ”, in: ΑΔ 28 Α, 187–191. 31. “’Ανασκαφὴ ἐν Κίρρᾳ”, in: ΑΔ 28 Β1, 318f. 32. “’Ανασκαφὴ ἐν Κίρρᾳ κατὰ τὸ 1972”, in: ΑΑΑ 6, 70–73. 33. “Mitilene”, in: Enciclopedia dell’ Arte Antica, Supplemento 1970, Rome, 498f. 1974 34. “’Εκ τῆς μυκηναϊκῆς ’Ωρωπίας”, in: ΑΔ 29 Α, 95–99. 35. “’Επιγραφαὶ Εὐβοίας”, in: ΑΔ 29 Α, 100–108. 36. Τὸ ’Αμφιάρειο τοῦ ’Ωρωποῦ, Τόποι καὶ μουσεῖα τῆς Ἑλλάδος 6, Athens; English translation of Greek edition: The Amphiareion of Oropos, Sites and Museums of Greece 6, Athens 1974. 1975 37.“’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 130, 5–35. 1976 38. “Τὸ κάστρον τῆς Μυτιλήνης”, in: ΑΔ 31 Α, 152–165. 39. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 131, 5–60.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  LXI

1977 40. Δελφοί2, Athens 1977 (reprint 1997); English translation of second Greek edition: Delphi, Athens 1977; French translation of second Greek edition: Delphes, Athens 1977; German translation of second Greek edition: Delphi, Athens 1977. 41. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 132, 3–22. 42. “Β᾽’Εφορεία Προϊστορικῶν καὶ Κλασικῶν ’Αρχαιοτήτων”, in: ΑΔ 32 Β1, 36–43. 1978 43. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 133, 1–16. 1979 44. “Νέες ἔρευνες στὸν Ραμνούντα”, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 118, 1–81. 45. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 134, 1–25. 46. “’Ωρωπός”, in: ΑΔ 34 Β1, 92. 47. “’Επιγραφαὶ ’Ωρωποῦ”, in: ΑΔ 34 Β1, 107–109. 1980 48. ’Επιγραφικὰ τοῦ ’Ωρωποῦ, Athens. 49. “’Τὸ ἐπιτύμβιο ἀνάγλυφο τοῦ Ἱέρωνος καὶ τῆς Λυσίππης καὶ τὸ ἐπίγραμμα IG II2 13102a”, in: Στήλη. Τόμος εἰς μνήμην Νικολάου Κοντολέοντος, Athens, 402–407. 50. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 135, 68–77. 1981 51. “La base de la Némésis d’Agoracrite (rapport préliminaire)”, in: BCH 105, 227–253. 52. ’Εθνικὸ Μουσεῖο. Γλυπτά – Χαλκά – ’Αγγεῖα, Athens (reprint 1993); English editions: National Museum. Sculptures – Bronzes – Vases, Athens (reprints 1993/1998/2000). German edition: Nationalmuseum. Skulpturen – Bronzen – Vasen, Athens 1981. 53. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 136, 118–140. 54. “Β ᾽’Εφορεία Προϊστορικῶν καὶ Κλασικῶν ’Αρχαιοτήτων”, in: ΑΔ 36 Β1, 41. 55. “Ἡ ἱστορία τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ὑπηρεσίας”, in: Πάπυρος Larousse Britannica 11, Athens, 241– 248. 56. “Δελφοί”, in: Πάπυρος Larousse Britannica 20, Athens, 66–78. 57. “Ραμνοῦς”, in: Πάπυρος Larousse Britannica 52, Athens, 258–261. 1981/1982 58. “Στοὰ στὴν ἀγορὰ τῆς ἀρχαίας ’Ερέτριας (προκαταρκτικὴ ἔκθεση)”, in: ’Αρχεῖον Εὐβοϊκῶν Μελετῶν 24, 324–336. 1982 59. Δοκίμιο γιὰ τὴν ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Νομοθεσία, Δημοσιεύματα τοῦ ’Αρχαιολογικοῦ Δελτίου 29, Athens. 60. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 137, 127–162. 61. Περιήγηση στὸ ’Αμφιάρειο καὶ τὸ Ραμνούντα, Η᾽ Διεθνὲς Συνέδριο Ἑλληνικῆς καὶ Λατινικῆς ’Επιγραφικῆς, ’Αθῆναι 3–9 ’Οκτωβρίου 1982, Athens. 1983 62. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 138, 109–130. 63. Ραμνοῦς. Σύντομη περιήγηση, ΧΙΙ Διεθνὲς Συνέδριο Κλασικῆς ’Αρχαιολογίας, ’Αθήνα 4– 10 Σεπτεμβρίου 1983, Athens; English translation of Greek edition: Rhamnous. A Concise

LXII  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Guide, XII International Congress of Classical Archaeology, Athens 4–10 September 1983, Athens 1983. 1984 64. “Ἡ ἐπιγραφικὴ τοῦ ’Ωρωποῦ καὶ τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: A. G. Kalogeropoulou (ed.), VIII. International Congress of Greek and Latin Epigraphy, Athens, 3–9 October 1982, I, Αthens, 309–338. 65. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 139, 146–211. 66. “Οἱ ἀρχαιολογικὲς ἐργασίες στὸ Ραμνούντα”, Horos 2, 213–220. 1985 67. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 140, 1–26. 1986 68. “Προβλήματα τῆς βάσης τοῦ ἀγάλματος τῆς Νεμέσεως”, in: H. Kyrieleis (ed.), Archaische und klassische griechische Plastik, Akten des internationalen Kolloquiums vom 22.–25. April 1985 in Athen, II, Mainz, 89–107. 69. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 141, 1–52. 1987 70. “Πρόλογος”, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 126, 21. 71. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 142, 1–14. 72. “’Ιδεογραφία τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς ‘Εταιρείας”, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 126, 23–197. 73. “’Επέτειοι”, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 126, 199–233. 74. “Οἱ ἀνασκαφὲς τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος (1813–1987)”, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 126, 267–298. 75. “Τὸ Νεμέσιον τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: Φίλια ἔπη εἰς Γεώργιον Μυλωνᾶν διὰ τὰ 60 ἔτη τοῦ ἀνασκαφικοῦ του ἔργου, II, ΒΑΕ 103, Athens, 295–326. 76. Ἡ ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία. Ἡ ἱστορία τῶν 150 χρόνων της, BAE 104, Athens 1987. 1988 77. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 143, 1–14. 78. “’Αρχαιολογία καὶ δεοντολογία. Ἡ ἀνασύσταση τοῦ θριγκοῦ τοῦ ναοῦ τῆς Νεμέσεως”, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 127, 15–18. 79. “Τὰ πρῶτα χρόνια τῆς ἑλληνικῆς ἀρχαιολογίας”, in: ’Αρχαιολογία 26, 90–99. 80. “Παναγιώτης Εὐστρατιάδης, 1815–1888”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 1 (1), 18f. 81. “Ἡ πρώτη στήλη τῶν εὐεργετῶν”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 1 (1), 20–22. 82. “Φροντίδες γιὰ τὸ πρῶτο μουσεῖο τῆς ’Αθήνας”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 1 (1), 23f. 83. “Τὸ ’Αμφιάρειο τοῦ ’Ωρωποῦ”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 1 (2), 4–11. 84. “’Ιωάννης Κ. Παπαδημητρίου. 25 χρόνια ἀπὸ τὸν θάνατό του (1963–1988)”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 1 (2), 17–20. 85. “Εἰδήσεις γιὰ τὸν Στέφανο ’Α. Κουμανούδη”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 1 (2), 20–22. 86. “Πρόδρομοι καὶ μιμητὲς τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 1 (2), 23f. 1989 87. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 144, 1–37. 88. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 1988 [= Ergon 36], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 143, 1988, κθ´–λη´. 89. “’Ιωάννης Δ. Κοντῆς (1910–1975)”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (3), 21–23. 90. “’Ιωάννα Κωνσταντίνου (1907–11.3.1989)”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (3), 27f. 91. “Τὸ Πρῶτο Διεθνὲς Συνέδριο Κλασικῆς ’Αρχαιολογίας”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (3), 29–31.

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92. “’Ανώφελη ἀναδρομή”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (5), 20. 93. “Ἡ ἐγκύκλιος πρὸς τοὺς καθυστεροῦντες”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (5), 24–27. 94. “Τὰ βυζαντικὰ μνημεῖα καὶ ἡ Ἑταιρεία”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (5), 28–32. 95. “Ὁ Στέφανος ’Α. Κουμανούδης γιὰ τὴν ἐπιγραφικὴ καὶ τὴν ἀρχαία τέχνη”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (6), 19–22. 96. “Ὁ Κυριακὸς Σ. Πιττάκης καὶ τὰ ἀρχαῖα τῆς Ἑλλάδος”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (6), 22–26. 97. “Γεῦμα στὸν Παρθενώνα (Πέμπτη, 10 ’Ιουνίου 1854)”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (6), 30–32. 98. “Μαρίκα Βελουδίου (3.12.1989)”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (8), 7. 99. “Ἡ ἀνασκαφὴ τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος Ι”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (8), 8–11. 100. “Ἡ προστασία τῆς πολιτισμικῆς κληρονομιᾶς. ’Επίμετρο”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (8), 19–21. 101. Ὁ Στέφανος ’Αθ. Κουμανούδης καὶ τὰ γεγονότα τοῦ 1894”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 2 (8), 27–30. 102. “Ὁ Γεώργιος Μυλωνᾶς ὡς Γενικὸς Γραμματεὺς τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: Γεώργιος ’Ε. Μυλωνᾶς, ὁ βίος καὶ τὸ ἔργο του, ΒΑΕ 100, Athens, 77–86. 1990 103. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 145, 1–39. 104. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 1989 [= Ergon 37], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 144, 1989, λζ´–μδ´. 105. “Ὁ Παναγιώτης Σταματάκης καὶ ἡ ἀνασκαφὴ τῶν Μυκηνῶν”, in: K. Demakopoulou (ed.), Τροία, Μυκῆνες, Τίρυνς, ’Ορχομενός. Ἑκατὸ χρόνια ἀπὸ τὸ θάνατο τοῦ Ἑρρίκου Σλῆμαν, Athens, 106– 112. English translation of Greek edition: “Panayiotis Stamatakis and the Excavation at Mycenae”, in: K. Demakopoulou (ed.), Troy, Mycenae, Tiryns, Orchomenos. Heinrich Schliemann. The 100th Anniversary of His Death, Athens, 106–112. 106. “Ὁ ’Αντώνιος Μπενάκης καὶ ἡ ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (9), 3–5. 107. “Μνήμη Δημητρίου Λαζαρίδη”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (9), 6f. 108. Review: A. Zois, Ἡ ἀρχαιολογία στὴν Ἑλλάδα. Πραγματικότητες καὶ προοπτικές, Athens, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (9), 8. 109. “Δυσφορία κατὰ τῆς ’Εφορείας”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (9), 20–23. 110. “Πρὸς τοὺς Ἑταίρους”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (10), 25–31. 111. “Τὸ ἄγαλμα τοῦ Καιροῦ”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (10), 60f. 112. “Ὁ Wilhelm Dörpfeld καὶ ἡ ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (11), 86–88. 113. “Οἱ Ἕλληνες ἀρχαιολόγοι στὸ μέτωπο”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (12), 91–95. 114. “Οἱ παλαιότεροι γιὰ τὶς δημοσιεύσεις”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (12), 101–103. 115. “Ἡ ἱστορικὴ πλαστογραφία τοῦ Πιττάκη”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (12), 121–123. 116. Review: S. N. Koumanoudis/A. Matthaiou (eds.), Σ. ’Α. Κουμανούδης. Ἡμερολόγιον 1845–1867, Athens 1990, in: ΕΔΑΕ 3 (12), 123. 1991 117. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 146, 1–63. 118. Ραμνοῦς2, Athens; English translation of Greek edition: Rhamnous, Athens 1991. 119. “Ἡ ἀρχαία ’Αττικὴ καὶ τὰ ἱερά της”, in: ’Αρχαιολογία 10 (39), 9–13. 120. “Τὸ ’Αμφιάρειο τοῦ ’Ωρωποῦ”, in: ’Αρχαιολογία 10 (39), 21–32. 121. “Τὸ ἱερὸ τῆς Νέμεσης στὸν Ραμνούντα”, in: ’Αρχαιολογία 10 (39), 33–40. 122. “Περιήγηση στὸν ἀρχαιολογικὸ χῶρο τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ’Αρχαιολογία 10 (39), 44–61. 123. “Πρόλογος”, in: Τὰ μνημεῖα τῆς Δήλου. Πρόσφατα ἔργα συντήρησης καὶ στερέωσης, ΒΑΕ 114, Athens, 17–19. 124. “Πρόλογος”, in: K.-V. von Eickstedt, Beiträge zur Topographie des antiken Piräus, ΒΑΕ 118, Athens, without page number. 125. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 1990 [= Ergon 38], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 145, 1990, λζ´–μς´.

LXIV  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos 126. “Τὸ ’Αρχεῖο τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: Μνήμων 13, 349–358. 127. “Πρὸς τοὺς Ἑταίρους”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (14), 1–3. 128. “Τὸ Μουσεῖο Μπενάκη καὶ ἡ ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (14), 4f. 129. Review: A. Kyrou, Στὸ σταυροδρόμι τοῦ ’Αργολικοῦ, Athens 1990, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (14), 9f. 130. “Ὁ Βαλέριος Στάης στὰ ’Αντικύθηρα”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (14), 19–22. 131. “Οἱ συνεργάτες τῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (14), 25–27. 132. “Τὰ ἀρχαῖα καὶ ἐμεῖς”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (15), 33–35. 133. “Γεώργιος Μπακαλάκης (1908–1991)”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (15), 36. 134. “Γεώργιος Π. Οἰκονόμος (1883–1951)”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (16), 70. 135. “Ἡ συμβουλὴ τοῦ Χρήστου Καρούζου”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (16), 82. 136. “Τὸ πρῶτο μουσεῖο τῆς Ἑλλάδος”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (16), 90–98. 137. “Κωνσταντῖνος Δ. Παπαρρηγόπουλος (1815–1891)”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (16), 98f. 138. “Πράξεις παράλληλοι: ’Ιω. Γ. Γεννάδιος – Κ. Σ. Πιττάκης”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (16), 99f. 139. “Ἔκθεση, δανεισμὸς καὶ δωρεὰ ἀρχαίων”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 102–109. 140. “Οἱ ἐκθέσεις”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 110–113. 141. “Ἡ Σύμβαση”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 114–118. 142. “Ἡ ’Απόφαση”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 119f. 143. “Μετὰ τὸ Μουσεῖο τῆς Λωζάννης (ἢ περὶ τῆς νέας ἀρχαιοκαπηλίας) ”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 121–127. 144. “Συμβαίνουν καὶ εἰς τὴν Ἑσπερίαν”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 128f. 145. “’Επίσημη Ἁρπαγή”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 130–133. 146. “Ὁ Τύπος”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 134–138. 147. “Ἡ ἁρπαγὴ (μικρὸ ἀνθολόγιο)”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 139–145. 148. “ ‘Εἰς ἰταλικὴν παραλίαν’ ”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 145. 149. “Μετανάστες”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 146. 150. “Ἡ ’Επικαιρότητα”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 147f. 151. “Ἡ ἄποψη τοῦ Βρετανικοῦ Μουσείου”, in: ΕΔΑΕ 4 (17), 148. 152. “Ντούλα Μουρίκη (1934 – 25.11.1991)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 4 (18), 151. 153. “Ἡ ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία καὶ τὰ Ἔργα τοῦ Ὑπουργείου Πολιτισμοῦ”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 4 (18), 151– 155. 1992 154. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 147, 1–41. 155. Τὸ ’Αμφιάρειο τοῦ ’Ωρωποῦ2, Μνημεῖα καὶ Μουσεῖα τῆς Ἑλλάδος, Athens; English translation of the second Greek edition: The Amphiareion of Oropos, Greece. Monuments and Museums, Athens 1995. German translation of the second Greek edition: Das Amphiaraion von Oropos, Athen 1996. 156. Review: Ch. W. Clairmont, Classical Attic Tombstones, I–VI, Kilchberg 1993, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 131, 195–197. 157. (Ed.) Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 1991 [= Ergon 39], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 146, 1991, λε´–μζ´. 158. “Τὸ Μουσεῖο Μπενάκη”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (19), 2f. 159. “’Αλέξανδρος Ρίζος Ραγκαβῆς (27.12.1809 – 16.1.1892)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (19), 3. 160. “Νικόλαος Πλάτων (1909 – 28.3.1992)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (19), 4f. 161. “Ὁμιλία στὰ πλαίσια τῆς Ἔκτακτης Γενικῆς Συνέλευσης τοῦ 1992”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (20), 25–31. 162. “’Επίλογος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (20), 90–92. 163. “Πρὸς τοὺς ἑταίρους”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (21), 97. 164. “’Ιωάννης Κ. Παπαδημητρίου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (21), 117–120. 165. “Οἱ Γαλάτες στὴν ’Ολυμπία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (22), 128–131. 166. “Πέτρες που ταξιδεύουν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (22), 132–134.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  LXV

167. “Μία παλιά ἔριδα Μιστριώτη-Πολίτη”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (22), 134–137. 168. “Πέτρες που ταξιδεύουν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (22), 132–134. 169. “Ἡ ἔκθεση τῆς Ν. Ὑόρκης τοῦ 1939”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (22), 138f. 170. “Παῦλος Ἡ. Λαζαρίδης (1917–1992)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (22), 144–148. 171. “’Αργυρὼ Α. Παντελίδου (1928–1992)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (22), 149. 172.“Ἡ 28η ’Οκτωβρίου πηγὴ ἔμπνευσης”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (22), 150–152. 173. “Ἡ κίνηση τῶν ἐκθέσεων τοῦ ἐξωτερικοῦ”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (23), 161f. 174. “Tὸ πρόβλημα τῶν ἀνασκαφῶν καὶ ἡ γνώμη τοῦ Χρήστου Καρούζου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (23), 163– 170. 175. “Καὶ πάλιν ὁ Ἔλγιν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (23), 171f. 176. “Ὁ Παναγὴς Καββαδίας καὶ τὰ γεγονότα τοῦ 1909”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (23), 173–176. 177. “Σχόλια στὴν ἐπιφυλλίδα τοῦ Ζαχ. Παπαντωνίου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (23), 180. 178. “Ὁ Παναγιώτης Σταματάκης ἱδρυτὴς τοῦ Μουσείου Σπάρτης”, in: Θησαύρισμα. ’Αριστεῖον πνευματικὸν εἰς Δικαῖον Β. Βαγιακάκον διὰ τὰ πενήντα χρόνια ἐπιστημονικῆς προσφορᾶς, 642– 650. 179. “Παναγιώτης Σταματάκης καὶ Ἑρρίκος Σλῆμαν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (23), 181–183. 180. “Ἡ δράση τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας στὴν Πελοπόννησο”, in: Πρακτικὰ τοῦ Δ᾽ Διεθνοῦς Συνεδρίου Πελοποννησιακῶν Σπουδῶν, Κόρινθος 9–16 Σεπτεμβρίου 1990, Πελοποννησιακά, Παράρτημα 19Α, Athens, 95–128. 1993 181. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 148, 1–35. 182. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 1992 [= Ergon 40], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 147, 1992, λε´–μα´. 183. “Τὸ ἀρχεῖο ’Ιωάννη Τραυλοῦ”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (24), 2. 184. “Ἡ νέα ἔκδοση τῶν ἐπιτυμβίων ἐπιγραφῶν τῆς ’Αττικῆς”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (24), 3–5. 185. “Ὁ Κωστῆς Παλαμᾶς στὴν ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 5 (24), 7–14. 186. “Ἡ κίνηση τῶν ἐκθέσεων”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (24), 16–18. 187. “Πλουτάρχου Θεμιστοκλῆς ΧΧΧΙ, 1–2”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (24), 19. 188. “Τὸ ’Επιγραφικὸ Μουσεῖο”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (24), 20–22. 189. “Ἡ ἐπιγραφικὴ στὴν Ἑλλάδα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (24), 23–28. 190. “Ἡ διοίκηση τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ὑπηρεσίας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (24), 29–40. 191. “Τριάντα χαμένα χρόνια”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (25), 45. 192. “Ἡ μετεπιγραφὴ τῶν ἀγαλμάτων στῆ ἀρχαιότητα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (25), 46–48. 193. “Ἡ ἀλεποῦ ἦταν ἀρχαιοκάπηλος. Τὸ σπήλαιο τοῦ Πανὸς στὸν Μαραθώνα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (25), 67–70. 194. “Τὰ Μέσα θ᾽ ἀλλάξουν ὄνομα;”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (25), 71f. 195. “Λέανδρος Βρανούσης (1921 – 20 ’Απριλίου 1993)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (26), 95f. 196. “Γράμμα σὲ νέο ἐπιγραφικό”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (26), 114f. 197. “Τὸ μουσεῖο ἐκμαγείων”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (26), 116. 198. “Σημειώσεις σὲ ἀναγνώσματα: 1. Τὰ Κερκυραϊκὰ τοῦ 1911. 2. Οἱ ἐπιμελητὲς τῆς Ἑταιρείας. 3. Οἱ Ἔκτακτοι ’Επιμελητὲς τῶν ’Αρχαιοτήτων”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (26), 118–124. 199. “Βιβλιογραφία περὶ τοῦ Κ.Σ. Πιττάκη”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (27), 126f. 200. “Νόμιμη ἀρχαιοκαπηλία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (27), 136f. 201. “Φιλάρχαιοι ἢ ἀρχαιοκάπηλοι;”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (27), 137. 202. “Σύνταγμα ἐπιτυμβίων μνημείων ’Αττικῆς ΙΙ (ΣΕΜΑ)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (27), 145f. 203. “Τὸ ἱερὸ τοῦ Κανώβου στὸν Μαραθώνα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (27), 152. 204. “Τὸ Μουσεῖο ’Εκμαγείων. Δευτερολογία καὶ ἐπίλογος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (27), 154–157. 205. “Τὸ νέο περὶ ἀρχαιοτήτων σχέδιο νόμου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (27), 159–162.

LXVI  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos 206. “Ἡ βιβλιοθήκη τῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (27), 171f. 207. “1913–1993, 80 χρόνια μετά”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (28), 184f. 208. “Τὸ ’Αρχεῖο τῶν Μνημείων τῶν ’Αθηνῶν καὶ τῆς ’Αττικῆς”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (28), 186f. 209. “Νικόλαος Β. Τωμαδάκης”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (28), 194. 210. “’Αναμνηστικὰ χαράγματα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (28), 195f. 211. “’Εμεῖς καὶ τὰ ἀρχαῖα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 6 (28), 197. 212. “Πρόλογος στὴν ἑλληνικὴ ἔκδοση”, in: J. D. Beazley, Ἡ ἐξέλιξη τοῦ ἀττικοῦ μελανόμορφου ρυθμοῦ, ΒΑΕ 134, Athens, XIII. 1994 213. “Ἡ ἔρευνα τοῦ ἀρχαίου ’Ωρωποῦ”, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 133, 46. 214. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 149, 1–44. 215. “’Ανασκαφὴ Θορικοῦ”, in: ΠΑΕ 149, 225–227. 216. “’Ανασκαφὴ Σουνίου”, in: ΠΑΕ 149, 229f. 217. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 1993 [= Ergon 41], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 148, 1993, λγ´–λη´. 218. “Preface”, in: A. Papageorgiou-Venetas, Athens. The Ancient Heritage and the Historic Cityscape in a Modern Metropolis, BAE 140, Athens, XIII. 219. “Τὸ ἀττικὸ ἔργο τοῦ ’Ιωάννη Τραυλοῦ”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 7 (29), 17–20. 220. “Οἱ ἀρχὲς τῆς ἀρχαιολογικῆς ἔρευνας στὴν Ἑλλάδα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 7 (30), 60–65. 221. “Ρολόγια τῆς ’Αθήνας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 7 (30), 66–68. 222. Τὰ ἀρχαῖα τῆς Ἑλλάδος κατὰ τὸν Πόλεμο 1940–44, BAE 144, Athens = V. Ch. Petrakos (ed.), ’Αφιέρωμα στὴ 12η ’Οκτωβρίου 1944, ’Επέτειο τῆς ’Απελευθέρωσης και στὴν ἱστορία τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ὑπηρεσίας κατὰ τὰ ἔτη 1940–1944, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 7 (31), 69–185. 223. “Ἡ παθολογία τῆς ἀρχαιολογίας (1894–1994)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 7 (32), 187f. 224. “René Ginouvès” (21 Ἰανουαρίου 1926 – 10 Νοεμβρίου 1994), in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 7 (32), 194–196. 225. “Σέμνη Χ. Καρούζου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 7 (32), 197. 226. “Ὁ Βύρων καὶ τὸ Μεσολόγγι”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 7 (32), 210. 1995 227. “Χάραγμα ἐκ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 134, 267–270. 228. “Στήλη μονομάχου ἀπὸ τὴν ’Ερέτρια”, in: ’Αρχ. ’Εφ. 134, 271–273. 229. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 150, 1–31. 230. Ὁ Μαραθών. ’Αρχαιολογικὸς ὁδηγός, ΒΑΕ 146, Athens; English translation of Greek edition: Marathon. An Archaeological Guide, ΒΑΕ 155, Athens 1996; German translation of Greek edition: Marathon. Ein archäologischer Führer, ΒΑΕ 172, Athens 1998. Review: J.-J. Maffre, in: Rev. Arch 114(2) 2001, 693. 231. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 1994 [= Ergon 42], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 149, 1994, ιγ´–κβ´. 232. (Ed.), Μικρὰ κείμενα Χρήστου ’Ι. Καρούζου, ΒΑΕ 149, Athens. 233. Ἡ περιπέτεια τῆς ἑλληνικῆς ’Αρχαιολογίας στὸν βίο τοῦ Χρήστου Καρούζου, ΒΑΕ 150, Athens. 234. “Σχόλια στὴ συζήτηση”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 8 (33), 1–4. 235. “Ἔκθεση περὶ τῆς ἑλληνικῆς ἀρχαιολογίας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 8 (33), 6–17. 236. “Τὰ πρόσωπα ποὺ ἐπιδροῦν στὴν ἑλληνικὴ ἀρχαιολογία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 8 (34), 61–72. 237. “Μνημεῖα καὶ ἀμνήμονες”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 8 (34), 89–92. 238. “Κινδυνεύει ὁ Κεραμεικός;”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 8 (35), 93–95. 239. “Μνημεῖα ἢ σύγχρονα θέατρα;”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 8 (35), 105–107. 240. “’Απόδοση παλαιῶν χρεῶν. Τὰ μνημεῖα τῆς Ρήνειας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 8 (35), 123. 241. “Πρὸς τοὺς ἑταίρους”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 8 (36), 125–130.

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2001 304. “’Ανασκαφὴ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: ΠΑΕ 156, 1–13. 305. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2000 [= Ergon 48], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 155, 2000, ιγ´–κζ´. 306. “’Επιγραφικὰ τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος”, in: A. Alexandri/I. Leventi (eds.), Καλλίστευμα. Μελέτες πρὸς τιμὴν τῆς Ὄλγας Τζάχου-’Αλεξανδρῆ, Athens, 556–562. 307. “Οἱ Ἕλληνες τοῦ ᾽21 καὶ τὰ μνημεῖα”, in: ΠΑΑ 76Β, 265–282. 308. “Τὰ μνημεῖα κατὰ τὸν πόλεμο τοῦ ᾽40”, in: ΠΑΑ 76Β, 474–496. 309. “Τὸ ζήτημα τοῦ Μαραθῶνος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 14 (57), 1f. 310. “Τὸ ζήτημα τοῦ Μαραθῶνος. Οἱ ἐπιστολές”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 14 (57), 3–46. 311. “Ἡ ἀνασκαφικὴ καὶ δημοσιευτικὴ πολιτικὴ τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 14 (58), 1–59. 312. Review: N. Depastas, Ἡ στρατιωτικὴ ὀργάνωση καὶ πολεμικὴ τέχνη τῶν ἀρχαίων Ἑλλήνων (1600– 146 π.Χ.), Athens 2009, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 14 (58), 102. 313. “Ἡ ἐκποίηση τῶν ἀρχαιοτήτων”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 14 (59), 103–108. 314. “Μαραθῶνος νεώτερα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 14 (60), 189–193. 315. “Ἡ μαχόμενη ἀρχαιολογία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 14 (60), 194–197. 316. “Γεώργιος Π. Οἰκονόμος (1883–1951)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 14 (61), 241f. 2002 317. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2001 [= Ergon 49], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 156, 2001, ιγ´–κα´. 318. “Τὸ κτῆμα τοῦ ‘Ηρώδου στὸν Μαραθώνα”, in: ΠΑΑ 77Α, 83–90. 319. “Οἱ περὶ ’Ακαδημίας ἰδέες κατὰ τὸν 19ο αἰώνα”, in: ΠΑΑ 77Α, 311–323. 320. Review: A. Cambitoglou/J. K. Papadopoulos/O. T. Jones (eds.), Torone I, The Excavations of 1975, 1976 and 1978, Vol. 1–3, ΒΑΕ 206–208, Athens 2001, in: ΠΑΑ 77Β, 407–411. 321. “Ἡ ἀνασκαφὴ τῆς Τορώνης”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 15 (62), 3–7. 322. “Ἡ ἀρχαιολογία καὶ ἑλληνικὴ γλώσσα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 15 (62), 12–17. 323. “Πρὸς τοὺς ἑταίρους”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 15 (63), 49–57. 324. “Πρὸς τοὺς ἑταίρους”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 15 (64–65), 81–85. 325. “Νικόλαος Παπαχατζῆς (1912 – 19 ’Ιουλίου 2002)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 15 (64–65), 86–92. 2003 326. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2002 [= Ergon 50], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 157, 2002, ια´–ιθ´. 327. “ Ἄγγελος Βλάχος”, in: ΠΑΑ 78Β, 39–46. 328. “Παρουσίαση κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχὴ τῆς ἀκαδημαϊκοῦ κυρίας Κικῆς Δημουλᾶ”, in: ΠΑΑ 78Β, 70–76. 329. “Παρουσίαση κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχὴ τοῦ ξένου ἑταίρου κ. Peter M. Fraser”, in: ΠΑΑ 78Β, 92–97. 330. Review: N. Konomis, ’Απὸ τὴν ἱστορία τῆς Λατινικῆς Γλώσσας, Athens 2003, in: ΠΑΑ 78Β, 135– 140. 331. “Συμπεράσματα ἀβεβαιότητος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 16 (66), 1–3. 332. “Πολεμικὸς πολιτισμός”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 16 (66), 3. 333. “Ἄγγελος Βλάχος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 16 (66), 4–6. 334. “Ἡ κρίση τοῦ 1894 στὴν Ἑταιρεία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 16 (66Β), 25–48. 335. “Ἄγγελος Σ. Βλάχος (†8 Φεβρουαρίου 2003)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 16 (67), 51–73. 336. “Οἱ ἑλληνικὲς ἀρχαιότητες. Κειμήλια ἢ ἐμπόρευμα;”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 16 (68), 97–107. 337. “Ἡ ἀνασκαφὴ τῆς Μινώας ’Αμοργοῦ καὶ ἡ δημοσίευσή της”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 16 (68), 113–126. 338. “Τιμὴ στὴν Ἑταιρεία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 16 (69), 133–135. 339. “’Αρχαιοθηρία καὶ ἰδεαλισμός”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 16 (69), 136–145.

LXX  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos 2003/2004 340. “Ἡ προσφορὰ τῆς Ἑταιρείας Πελοποννησιακῶν Σπουδῶν στὴν πρόοδο τῶν ἀρχαιολογικῶν σπουδῶν”, in: Πελοποννησιακὰ 27, 7–14. 2004 341. “Οἱ ἔφηβοι τῆς Λεωντίδος τοῦ 333/2 π.Χ.”, in: ΠΑΑ 79Β, 167–176. 342. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2003 [= Ergon 51], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 158, 2003, ια´–ιζ´. 343. Review: K. Grollios, “Ὁράτιος, Οἱ ’Ωδές. Ἑρμηνευτικὴ ἔκδοση. Κείμενο – Μετάφραση – Σχόλια – Ἑρμηνεία, Books I–IV, Athens; 1986 [I], 1992 [II], 1998 [III], 2003 [IV], in: ΠΑΑ 79Β, 259–266. 344. “Νέα παράσταση ἐγκοίμησης ἀπὸ τὸ ’Αμφιάρειο τοῦ ’Ωρωποῦ”, in: ΠΑΑ 79Β, 268–278. 345. (Ed.), Τὰ ἑλληνικὰ μνημεῖα. Φωτογραφίες τοῦ 1910, ΒΑΕ 232, Athens. 346. “Οἱ φωτογραφίες τοῦ 1910”, in: V. Ch. Petrakos (ed.), Τὰ ἑλληνικὰ μνημεῖα. Φωτογραφίες τοῦ 1910, ΒΑΕ 232, Athens, 9f. 347. Ἡ ἀπαρχὴ τῆς ἑλληνικῆς ἀρχαιολογίας καὶ ἡ ἴδρυση τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας, ΒΑΕ 234, Athens = ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (73), 111–222. 348. “Ἡ ἀλλαγή”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (70), 1f. 349. “’Αρχαιοκαπηλία καὶ ἐπιστήμη”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (70), 3–5. 350. “Tὸ μνημεῖο τῶν πεσόντων στὸν Κορινθιακὸ πόλεμο”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (70), 6–11. 351. “Μετὰ ψηφίσματος”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (71), 33f. 352. “Μαρία Στ. Θεοχάρη”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (71), 35–41. 353. “Ἡ πρώτη ἔκθεση στὸ ἐξωτερικό”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (71), 43–56. 354. “Ἡ καλύβη τοῦ στυλίτου”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (71), 57–59. 355. “Οἱ ὀλυμπιακοὶ ἀγῶνες, τὸ 2004 καὶ οἱ ἀρχαιότητες”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (72), 69–80. 356. “Κίβδηλο παρελθόν”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (72), 81–95. 357. “Ἡ φωτοχυσία τῆς ’Ακροπόλεως τὸ 1843”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (72), 95f. 358. “Ἡ γλώσσα ὡς παράδοση καὶ ὡς μνημεῖο”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (72), 97–101. 359. “’Αθηνᾶ Γ. Καλογεροπούλου”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (72), 102–104. 360. “’Ιωάννης Νικ. Καραμῆτρος”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (72), 105f. 361. “Μαρία Χαιρέτη”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 17 (73), 225f. 2005 362. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2004 [= Ergon 52], Athens; compare also ΠΑΕ 159, 2004, ια´–ιζ´. 363. Review: S. Iakovidis/E. B. French/K. Shelton/Ch. Ioannides/A. Jansen/J. Lavery, Archaeological Atlas of Mycenae, ΒΑΕ 229, Athens 2003, in: ΠΑΑ 80Β, 17–24. 364. “Παρουσίαση τοῦ ἀκαδημαϊκοῦ κ. Κωνσταντίνου Σβολόπουλου κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχή του στὴν ’Ακαδημία”, in: ΠΑΑ 80Β, 128–133. 365. Review: K. Dimoula, ’Εκτὸς σχεδίου, Athens 2004, and Χλόη Θερμοκηπίου, Athens 2005, in: ΠΑΑ 80Β, 155–164. 366. “Ὁ Γιάννης Παππᾶς καὶ ἡ τέχνη τοῦ λόγου”, in: ΠΑΑ 80Β, 165–176. 367. “Παρουσίαση τοῦ ἀντεπιστέλλοντος μέλους κ. Jean Leclant κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχή του στὴν ’Ακαδημία”, in: ΠΑΑ 80Β, 200–205. 368. “Τὸ πρῶτο δημόσιο σῆμα στὴ νέα Ἑλλάδα: Τὸ μνημεῖο τοῦ Καραϊσκάκη στὸ Νέο Φάληρο”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 18 (74–75), 3–32. 369. “Ἡ ἀρχαιολογία τῆς Ψυττάλειας”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 18 (74–75), 33–72. 370. “Ἔκθεση φωτογραφιῶν στὴν Ἑταιρεία”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 18 (74–75), 73–80. 371. “Ἡ ὁδὸς Τοσίτσα ἄλλοτε”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 18 (74–75), 93–95. 372. “Ἡ λεηλασία τῆς Τανάγρας καὶ ὁ Παναγιώτης Σταματάκης”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 18 (76), 141–150.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  LXXI

373. “Τὸ Θησεῖο χῶρος παρατάξεων”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 18 (76), 151–153. 374. “Πῶς βλέπουμε τὸ μνημειακό μας παρελθὸν σήμερα”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 18 (77), 183–192. 375. “’Αντιθέσεις μεταξὺ ἀστυνομίας καὶ Πιττάκη”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 18 (77), 193–196. 376. “Ὁ Jean Leclant ἐπίτιμος ἀντιπρόεδρος τοῦ Συμβουλίου”, in: ‘Ο Μέντωρ 18 (77), 197–199. 2006 377. “’Επιτύμβιες ἐπιγραφὲς Ραμνοῦντος”, in: V. N. Bardani/G. K. Papadopoulos (eds.), Συμπλήρωμα τῶν ἐπιτυμβίων μνημείων τῆς ’Αττικῆς, ΒΑΕ 241, Athens, 136–169. 378. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2005 [= Ergon 53], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 160, 2005, ια´–ιη´. 379. “Pierre Amandry (31.12.1912 – 21.2.2006)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (78), 2–17 = ΠΑΑ 81Β, 9–18. 380. “’Εργογραφία τοῦ Pierre Amandry”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (78), 20–28. 381. “Δημοσιογραφικά”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (79), 29–44. 382. “Μνημεῖα ποὺ περιοδεύουν. Ἡ Καπνικαρέα καὶ ἡ τύχη της”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (79), 45–49. 383. “Μία μέρα πετρωμένη”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (79), 54–62. 384. “’Αρχαιολόγοι καὶ ἀρχαιότητες”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (80), 88–99. 385. “Ἡ αὐτοβιογραφία τοῦ Εὐθυμίου Καστόρχη”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (80), 100–103. 386. “’Εργολάβοι τοῦ παρελθόντος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (80), 115f. 387. “Παναγιώτης Βελισσαρίου (1952 – 27 Αὐγούστου 2006)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (80), 117. 388. “Μαρία Σαλλιώρα Οἰκονομάκου (1946 – 30 Σεπτεμβρίου 2006)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (80), 118– 120. 389. “’Αριστείδης Πασαδαῖος (1914 – 23 ’Ιουνίου 2003)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (80), 121f. 390. “Διάταγμα περὶ ἐκμαγείων”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 19 (81), 146–150. 391. “Τὰ μουσεῖα στὴ Νέα Ἑλλάδα”, in: Φιλολογικὴ Πρωτοχρονιά 63, 25–28. 2007 392. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2006 [= Ergon 53], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 161, 2006, ια´–ιζ´. 393. Τὰ 170 χρόνια τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας, 1837–2007, ΒΑΕ 248, Athens. 394. Ὁ ’Αρχαιολογικὸς Σύλλογος. Ἡ πρώτη ’Ακαδημία στὴν ἐλευθερωμένη Ἑλλάδα 1848–1854, ΒΑΕ 250, Athens. 395. “Ἡ προσφορὰ τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας στὴν ἔρευνα καὶ τὴ μελέτη τῶν ἑλληνικῶν μνημείων”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 20 (82), 1–8. 396. “Τὰ 170 χρόνια τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 20 (82), 9–59 (= ΠΑΑ 82Β, 2007, 39–104). 397. “Τὰ Στάδια τῆς Ἑλληνικῆς ’Αρχαιολογίας”, in: P. Valavanis (ed.), Μεγάλες στιγμὲς τῆς Ἑλληνικῆς ’Αρχαιολογίας, Athens, 18–33. English edition: “The Stages of Greek Archaeology”, in: P. Valavanis (ed.), Great Moments in Greek Archaeology, Los Angeles 2007, 16–33. 398. “Πρόλογος”, in: Ch. G. Doumas (ed.), ’Ακρωτήρι Θήρας. Δυτικὴ Οἰκία. Τράπεζες – Λίθινα – Μετάλλινα – Ποικίλα, ΒΑΕ 246, Athens, 11. 399. “’Εξηγήσεις”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 20 (82), 60–70. 400. “Ἡ ἱστορία ἑνὸς τόπου τῆς ’Αθήνας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 20 (83), 83–123. 401. “Αἰσθητικὲς ἀνησυχίες 76 χρόνια πρίν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 20 (83), 124–126. 402. “Ἡ ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία στὶς Κυκλάδες, 1872–1910: πρῶτες ἔρευνες”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 20 (83), 135–141. 403. “40 χρόνια πρίν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 20 (83), 142–144. 404. “Ὁ ’Αρχαιολογικὸς Σύλλογος. Ἡ πρώτη ’Ακαδημία στὴν ἐλευθερωμένη Ἑλλάδα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 20 (84), 179–286. 405. “Ἡ πρώτη ἀναστήλωση στὴν Ἑλλάδα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 20 (85), 289–293.

LXXII  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos 406. “Βασίλειος Λεονάρδος (1857–1930)”, in: Γορτυνιακὰ 4, 99. 407. “Ἡ Σχολὴ Διδασκαλίας τῆς Ἱστορίας τῆς Τέχνης”, in: Φιλολογικὴ Πρωτοχρονιά 64, 11–13. 2008 408. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2007 [= Ergon 54], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 162, 2007, ια´–κβ´. 409. “Δύο παλαιὲς ἀπόπειρες σφετερισμοῦ ἀνασκαφῶν τῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (87), 1–10. 410. “Ἡ τοιχογραφία τοῦ ’Εθνικοῦ ’Αρχαιολογικοῦ Μουσείου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (87), 11–36. 411. “Οἱ ἀρχαιολογικὲς ἐνασχολήσεις τοῦ Γεωργίου Αἰνιάνος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (87), 37–40. 412. “Ἡ ἀγορὰ τῶν ρωμαϊκῶν χρόνων τῆς ’Αθήνας μετὰ τὴν ἀπελευθέρωση”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (88), 49–54. 413. “Τελετὴ ἐπὶ τῆς ’Ακροπόλεως ’Αθηνῶν (28 Αὐγούστου 1834)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (87), 55–57. 414. “Μία σπάνια ἐπέτειος. Τὰ 300 χρόνια τῆς Society of Antiquaries τοῦ Λονδίνου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (87), 58f. 415. “Διακρίσεις”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (88), 69–71. 416. “’Ανάγκη Κτηματολογίου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (88), 72. 417. “Ἠὼς Ζερβουδάκη (1934 – 24 Ἀπριλίου 2008)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (89), 123f. 418. “Ὁ Ραμνοῦς μετόχι τῆς Μονῆς Βατοπεδίου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (90), 153–159. 419. “Τάσος Γριτσόπουλος (4 Ιαν.1911 – 19 Δεκ. 2008)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (90), 160–166. 420. “Ὁ ἀρχαιολόγος Δημήτριος Γρ. Καμπούρογλου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (90), 167–180. 421. “Ὁ λοιμὸς τοῦ 1854”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (90), 181f. 422. “Παλαιὲς ἐλληνικὲς ἀρχαιολογικὲς ἔρευνες στὴν Κόρινθο καὶ τὴν περιοχή της”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (90), 185–195. Compare no. 464. 423. “’Ανάγκη Κτηματολογίου ΙΙ”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (90), 202–207. 424. Review: E. Bechraki/M. Kreeb (eds.), Amicitiae Gratia. Τόμος στὴ μνήμη ’Αλκμήνης Σταυρίδη, Athens 2008, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (90), 208–213. 425. “Ὁ φωτογράφος Νικόλαος Τομπάζης”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (90), 214–218. 426. “Εἰσαγωγή”, in: Ath. Roussopoulos, Ὁ Παρθενών, ἤτοι διαμαρτυρία κατὰ πάσης διορθώσεως τοῦ Παρθενῶνος καὶ μέθοδος πρὸς σωτηρίαν αὐτοῦ, Athens (reprint 2008), 1–106. 427. “Πρόλογος”, in: Ch. G. Doumas (ed.), ’Ακρωτήρι Θήρας. Τριάντα χρόνια ἔρευνας, 1967–1997, ’Επιστημονικὴ συνάντηση, 19–20 Δεκεμβρίου 1997, ΒΑΕ 257, Athens, 9. 428. “Γεγονότα τοῦ Δεκεμβρίου 2008”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (90), 221. 429. “Ὁ δωρητὴς ’Αντώνιος ’Αντωνόπουλος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 21 (90), 223f. 430. “Τὰ 170 χρόνια τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: Φιλολογικὴ Πρωτοχρονιά 65, 17–21. 2009 431. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2008 [= Ergon 55], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 163, 2008, ια´–ιη´. 432. Ἡ ἑλληνικὴ αὐταπάτη τοῦ Λουδοβίκου Ross, BAE 262, Athens. Review: K. Fittschen, Gnomon 88, 2016, 248–252. 433. Review: G. Lavvas, Ὁ Πανίερος Ναὸς τῆς Αναστάσεως στὰ Ἱεροσόλυμα, Athens 2009, in: ΠΑΑ 84Β, 35–45. 434. “Χρῆστος Τσούντας (1857–1934)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 22 (91), 6–34. 435. “Maurice Druon (1918–2009)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 22 (91), 35–39. 436. “Παραλειπόμενα τῆς 10 Μαΐου 2009”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 22 (92), 41–43. 437. “Δημήτριος Τσάμης”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 22 (92), 75. 438. “Ἡ ἀνακατασκευὴ τοῦ θεάτρου τοῦ Διονύσου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 22 (94), 169–180. 439. “11 ’Ιουλίου 1829. Τὸ ἀρχαῖο θέατρο τοῦ Ἄργους σὲ νέα χρήση”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 22 (94), 199– 201.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  LXXIII

440. “Μία μοναδικὴ ἐπέτειος. 490 π.Χ. – 2010 μ.Χ.”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 22 (94), 208–210. 441. “Habent libelli sua fata”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 22 (94), 211–213. 442. “Ἡ Βιβλιοθήκη τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 22 (94), 221–223. 2010 443. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2009 [= Ergon 56], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 164, 2009, ια´–ιζ´. 444. “Ἡ προστασία τῶν ἀρχαιοτήτων ἐπὶ Καποδίστρια”, in: ΠΑΑ 85Β, 25–48 (= Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 [95], 6– 32) 445. “Παρουσίαση τοῦ τακτικοῦ μέλους κ. Θανάση Βαλτινοῦ κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχή του στὴν ’Ακαδημία”, in: ΠΑΑ 85Β, 141–146. 446. “Ἡ ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία στὴν ’Ερέτρια”, in: N. Kaltsas/S. Fachard/A. Psalti/M. Giannopoulou (eds.), ’Ερέτρια. Ματιές σὲ μιὰ ἀρχαία πόλη, ’Εθνικὸ ’Αρχαιολογικὸ Μουσεῖο 27 ’Απριλίου – 24 Αὐγούστου 2010, Athens, 34–37 – compare also the French and German translation in the Swiss edition. French: “La Société archéologique d’Athènes et ses recherches à Erétrie”, in: Ch. Martin Pruvot/K. Reber/Th. Theurillat (eds.), Cité sous terre. Des archéologues suisses explorent la cité grecque d’Érétrie, Catalogue de l’exposition réalisée par l’Ecole suisse d’archéologie en Grèce et l’Antikenmuseum Basel und Sammlung Ludwig, 22 septembre 2010 – 30 janvier 2011, Gollion – Bâle, 37–39 - German: “Die Archäologische Gesellschaft Athens und ihre Forschungen in Eretria”, in: E. van der Meijden/K. Reber (eds.), Ausgegraben! Schweizer Archäologen erforschen die griechische Stadt Eretria. Eine Ausstellung der Schweizerischen Archäologischen Schule in Griechenland in Zusammenhang mit dem Antikenmuseum Basel und Sammlung Ludwig, 22 September 2010 – 30 Januar 2011, Basel, 37–39. 447. “Ἡγέτες καὶ ἄνθρωποι τοῦ μόχθου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (95), 1–5. 448. “Τὸ ἀρχαῖο θέατρο τοῦ Ἄργους ΙΙ”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (95), 33f. 449. “Εὐχαριστήριο τοῦ Μουστοξύδη πρὸς τὸν Καποδίστρια”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (95), 35f. 450. “Πρὸς τοὺς Ἑταίρους”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (96), 37–40. 451. “Εὔη Μελᾶ”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (96), 69–72. 452. “Νέες εἰδήσεις γιὰ τὴν Ἀρχαιολογικὴ Ἐπιτροπή”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (96), 73–77. 453. “Ἦταν ἡ σειρὰ τοῦ ’Αβέρωφ”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (96), 98–100 454. “Κατοχικά”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (97), 101–104 455. “Ἔγγραφα τοῦ ἀρχείου Γεωργίου Π. Οἰκονόμου στὴν ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (97), 105–129. 456. “Γιάννης Σακελλαράκης”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (97), 130–134. 457. “Ἡ χαμένη μάχη”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (98), 149–153. 458. “Ὁ ἑορτασμὸς τῆς ἐπετείου”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (98), 154–167. 459. “Ὁ ἄλλος Μαραθὼν καὶ ἡ Jacqueline de Romilly”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (98), 168f. 460. “Ὁ Μαραθών, οἱ Θερμοπύλες καὶ τὸ ’21”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (98), 170f. 461. “’Απόψεις γιὰ τὸ πεδίον τῆς μάχης τοῦ Μαραθῶνος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (98), 172–177. 462. “’Επετειακὴ φιλολογία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (98), 178f. 463. “Μαραθὼν καὶ Σάτιρα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 23 (98), 180–183. 464. “Οἱ πρῶτες ἑλληνικὲς ἀρχαιολογικὲς ἔρευνες στὴν Κόρινθο καὶ τὴν περιοχή της”, in: I. K. Giannaropoulou (ed.), Acts of the VIII International Congress of Peloponnesian Studies, Corinth 26–28 September 2008. Dispute to the Eternal Corinth, Πελοποννησιακά, Παράρτημα 29, Athens, 39–46. Compare no. 422.

LXXIV  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos 2011 465. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2010 [= Ergon 57], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 165, 2010, ια´–ις´. 466. Review: M. B. Sakellariou, Θέματα νέας ἑλληνικῆς ἱστορίας, A-B, Athens 2011, in: ΠΑΑ 86Β, 151–154. 467. “Νεκρολογία γιὰ τὸν Patrick Michael Leigh Fermor, ἀντεπιστέλλον μέλος τῆς ’Ακαδημίας”, in: ΠΑΑ 86Β, 155f. 468. “Νεκρολογία γιὰ τὸν Jean Leclant, ξένο ἑταῖρο τῆς ’Ακαδημίας”, in: ΠΑΑ 86Β, 157–159. 469. “Τὸ πελοποννησιακό ὁδοιπορικὸ τοῦ Παναγιώτη Σταματάκη”, in: Στέφανος εἰς Τάσον ’Αθ. Γριτσόπουλον, Πελοποννησιακά 30.1, 89–104. 470. “Ἕνα μεγάλο ἑλληνικὸ ἐπιστημονικὸ γεγονός”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 24 (99), 1–3. 471. Review: G. Despinis/Th. Stefanidou-Tiveriou/E. Voutiras (eds.), Κατάλογος γλυπτῶν τοῦ ’Αρχαιολογικοῦ Μουσείου Θεσσαλονίκης Ι–III, Thessaloniki 1997–2010, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 24 (99), 6–8. 472. Ἡ ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία. Οἱ ἀρχαιολόγοι καὶ οἱ ἀνασκαφὲς 1837–2011, BAE 270, Athens [= Ὁ Μέντωρ 24 (100), 51–240]. 473. (Ed.), Σέμνη Καρούζου, ’Αρχαιολογικὰ Θέματα, I–II, BAE 272–273, Athens. 474. “Σέμνη Καρούζου”, in: V. Ch. Petrakos (ed.), Σέμνη Καρούζου, ’Αρχαιολογικὰ Θέματα, II, BAE 273, Athens, XI–XV. 475. “Σπυρίδων Κανίνιας (10 ’Ιανουαρίου 1922 – 3 Σεπτεμβρίου 2011)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 24 (101), 241– 252. 476. “Νικόλαος Φιλήμονος Γιαλούρης (2 Αὐγούστου 1916 – 24 Νοεμβρίου 2011)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 24 (101), 253–255. 477. “Φωτογραφικὴ ἔκθεση τοῦ ἔργου τῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 24 (101), 256–260. 478. “Ἡ ἀλήθεια γιὰ τὸ ’Εθνικὸ ’Αρχαιολογικὸ Μουσεῖο”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 24 (101), 261–266. 2012 479. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2011 [= Ergon 58], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 166, 2011, ια´–ιδ´. 480. Review: M. B. Sakellariou, Ἡ ἀπόβαση τοῦ ’Ιμπραὴμ στὴν Πελοπόννησο καταλύτης γιὰ τὴν ἀποδιοργάνωση τῆς Ἑλληνικῆς ’Επανάστασης, 24 Φεβρουαρίου – 23 Μαΐου 1825, Herakleion 2012, in: ΠΑΑ 87Β, 37–41. 481. “Παρουσίαση τοῦ τακτικοῦ μέλους κ. Στεφάνου Δ. ’Ημέλλου κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχή του στὴν ’Ακαδημία”, in: ΠΑΑ 87Β, 141–146. 482. “Ἡ ἐπιστροφὴ τῆς γηραιᾶς Κυρίας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 25 (102), 5f. 483. “Μία πρώιμη τοπογραφία τῆς ἀρχαίας ’Αθήνας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 25 (102), 7–26. 484. “Ὁ ἀντικαποδιστριακὸς Κυριακὸς Πιττάκης”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 25 (102), 44–48. 485. “Τὸ στέγαστρο στὸ ’Ακρωτήρι”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 25 (102), 70–72. 486. “Σκοτεινὲς ἡμέρες”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 25 (103), 73–76. 487. “Τὸ χρονικὸ τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς ’Εφημερίδος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 25 (103), 77–86. 488. “Περὶ ἀνασκαφῶν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 25 (103), 188–190 489. “’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία καὶ Γαλλικὴ Σχολὴ ’Αθηνῶν”, in: V. Chankovski/P. Karvonis (eds.), Tout vendre, tout acheter: structures et équipements des marchés antiques. Actes du colloque d’Athènes, 16–19 juin 2009, Ausonius Scripta Antiqua 42, Bordeaux, 9f. 490. “Γεώργιος Σπ. Δοντᾶς (1923 – 26 Δεκ. 2012)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 25 (103), 175–177. 491. “’Εργογραφία Γεωργίου Σπ. Δοντᾶ”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 25 (103), 178–182.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  LXXV

2013 492. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2012 [= Ergon 59], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 167, 2012, ια´–ις´. 493. Πρόχειρον ’Αρχαιολογικόν 1828 – 2012, Μέρος I. Χρονογραφικό, Μέρος ΙΙ. Θεματογραφικό, BAE 283–284, Athens. Reviews: C. Souyoudzoglou-Haywood, BMCR 2015.02.34; R. Stupperich, Thetis 21, 2015, 269– 272. 494. Review: M. B. Sakellariou, Ἡ Πελοπόννησος κατὰ τὴν δευτέραν Τουρκοκρατίαν (1715–1821)2, Athens 2012, in: ΠΑΑ 88Β, 91–99. 495. “Πρόλογος”, in: S. Tselikas (ed.), Σ. Δάκαρη, ’Ι. Βοκοτοπούλου, ’Α. Φ. Χριστίδη, Τὰ χρηστήρια ἐλάσματα τῆς Δωδώνης τῶν ἀνασκαφῶν Δ. Εὐαγγελίδη. Ι. ’Επιγραφές, ΒΑΕ 285, Athens, IX-XV. 496. “Πρόλογος”, in: P. Varvarousis, Σεϊντί. Παλαιολιθικὴ κατοίκηση στὴ Βοιωτία, Athens, 11. 497. “Σπῦρος Εὐ. ’Ιακωβίδης (28 Αὐγούστου 1922 – 16 ’Ιουνίου 2013)”, in: ΠΑΑ 88Β, 147–158 = Ὁ Μέντωρ 26 (106), 254–269. 498. “Παρουσίαση τοῦ ἐπίτιμου μέλους κ. Μίκη Θεοδωράκη κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχή του στὴν ’Ακαδημία”, in: ΠΑΑ 88Β, 209–213. 499. “Σπῦρος ’Ιακωβίδης (1923 – 16 ’Ιουνίου 2013)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 26 (104), 2–8. 500. “’Επικαιρότητα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 26 (104), 9f. 501. (Ed.), Γεώργιος ’Εμμ. Μυλωνᾶς. Βίος καὶ ἔργο 1898–1988, BAE 290, Athens. 502. “Γεώργιος Μυλωνᾶς”, in: V. Ch. Petrakos (ed.), Γεώργιος ’Εμμ. Μυλωνᾶς. Βίος καὶ ἔργο 1898– 1988, BAE 290, Athens, 3–9 = Ὁ Μέντωρ 26 (105), 35–41. 503. “’Επιστροφὴ στὸ παρελθόν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 26 (106), 251–253. 2014 504. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2013 [= Ergon 60], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 168, 2013, ια´–ις´. 505. “ Στυλιανός ’Αλεξίου (1921 – 12 Νοεμβρίου 2013)”, in: ΠΑΑ 89Β, 33–50. 506. “Παρουσίαση τῆς ποιητικῆς συλλογῆς τῆς ἀκαδημαϊκοῦ κυρίας Κικῆς Δημουλᾶ Δημόσιος Καιρός”, in: ΠΑΑ 89Β, 33–50. 507. “Μιχαὴλ Β. Σακελλαρίου (14 Φεβρουαρίου – 16 Αὐγούστου 2014)”, in: ΠΑΑ 89Β, 2014, 133–145 = Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (110), 336–353. 508. “Παρουσίαση τοῦ Χρηστικοῦ Λεξικοῦ τῆς Νεοελληνικῆς Γλώσσας τῆς ’Ακαδημίας ’Αθηνῶν. Προσφώνηση”, in: ΠΑΑ 89Β, 175–177. 509. “Παρουσίαση τοῦ ἀντεπιστέλλοντος μέλους κ. Ἄγγελου Χανιώτη κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχή του στὴν ’Ακαδημία”, in: ΠΑΑ 89Β, 239–245. 510. “Ἕλληνες ἀρχαιόλογοι καὶ ἑλληνικὴ ἀρχαιολογία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (107), 1–14. 511. “Οἱ ἀπόψεις ποὺ σχολιάζονται”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (107), 15–17. 512. “Στυλιανός ’Αλεξίου (1921 – 12 Νοεμβρίου 2013)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (107), 18–40. 513. Review: B. Markesinis, Ἡ κληρονομιὰ τῆς ἀρχαίας ἑλληνικῆς τραγωδίας στὸν Εὐρωπαϊκὸ πολιτισμό, Athens 2013, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (108), 43–47. 514. “Σπῦρος Εὐστ. ’Ιακωβίδης (1922–2013)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (109), 102–110. 515. “Μιχαὴλ Β. Σακελλαρίου (19 Αὐγούστου 2014)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (110), 2014, 352f. 516. “Γεώργιος Δεσπίνης (1936 – 13 Σεπτεμβρίου 2014)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (110), 354f. 517. “Review: G. Despinis/N. Kaltsas (eds.), ’Εθνικὸ ’Αρχαιολογικὸ Μουσεῖο. Κατάλογος Γλυπτῶν Ι:1, Γλυπτὰ τῶν ἀρχαϊκῶν χρόνων ἀπὸ τὸν 7ο αιώνα ἕως τὸ 480 π.Χ., Athens 2014, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (110), 356–358. 518. “Matti Egon, φίλη τῆς Ἑταιρείας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (110), 359–363. 519. “Ἡ γέννηση τῆς Ὑπηρεσίας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (110), 364–379. 520. “Τὰ 150 χρόνια τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ὑπηρεσίας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (110), 380–413.

LXXVI  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos 521. “’Αθηνᾶ Καλογεροπούλου. Δέκα χρόνια”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (110), 414–424. 522. “Ἡ ἀνασκαφὴ τοῦ Κεραμεικοῦ”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 27 (110), 425–431. 523. “Πρόλογος”, in: Ch. G. Charalampakis (ed.), Χρηστικό Λεξικό της Νεοελληνικής Γλώσσας, Athens, 7. 524. “Editor’s preface”, in: M. B. Cosmopoulos, The Sanctuary of Demeter at Eleusis. The Bronze Age. Ι, ΒΑΕ 295, Athens, XII-XIV. 2015 525. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2014 [= Ergon 61], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 169, 2014, θ´–ιδ´. 526. Ἡμερολόγιο ’Αρχαιολογικό. Τὰ χρόνια τοῦ Καποδίστρια 1828–1832 (3 vols.), BAE 301–303, Athens. Reviews: N. E. Karapidakis, in: Ἡ Καθημερινὴ 26.03.2016 (https://www.kathimerini.gr/854290/article/politismos/vivlio/h-anoloklhrwth-sxesh-me-thnarxaiothta); N. Papalexandrou, in: BMCR 2016.10.15. 527. (Ed.), ’Αφιέρωμα στὴ μνήμη καὶ τὸ ἔργο Σπυρίδωνος Μαρινάτου, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 28 (111), Athens. 528. “Ὁ πολιτικὸς Μαρινᾶτος”, in: V. Ch. Petrakos (ed.), ’Αφιέρωμα στὴ μνήμη καὶ τὸ ἔργο Σπυρίδωνος Μαρινάτου, Athens 2015, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 28 (111), 16–49. 529. “Βιογραφικὸ περίγραμμα καὶ ἐργογραφία Χρήστου Τσούντα”, in: Ch. Tsountas, Μυκῆναι καὶ Μυκηναῖος πολιτισμός, ΒΑΕ 300, Athens (reprint 2015), 267–298. 530. “Μάντω Οἰκονομίδου (1927 – 19 ’Ιαν. 2015)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 28 (112), 187f. 531. “Luigi Beschi (1930 – 15 Ιουλ. 2015)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 28 (112), 189f. 532. “Ἑταιρεία καὶ ’Εθν. ’Αρχαιολογικὸ Μουσεῖο”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 28 (112), 206–208. 533. “Πῶς δεῖ ἱστορίαν συγγράφειν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 28 (113), 235–271. 534. “Συγκρίσεις ἀνασκαφῶν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 28 (113), 272–290. 535. “Εὐταξίας ’Αθανάσιος. Περὶ ἀρχαιοτήτων (1899). Εἰσαγωγή - Ἱστορικὸς σχολιασμός”, in: Τετράδια Κοινοβουλευτικοῦ Λόγου 3 no. 2. 2016 536. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2015 [= Ergon 62], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 170, 2015, θ´–ια´. 537. “Presentation of: Nanno Marinatos, Sir Arthur Evans and Minoan Crete. Creating the Vision of Knossos (London 2015)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (115), 2–4 538. “75 χρόνια μετά: 6–27 ’Απριλίου, 1941–2016”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (116), 47–68. 539. “Τὸ ἄγαλμα τῆς Θεσσαλονίκης”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (116), 69–71. 540. “’Αναδρομὴ στὸ παρελθόν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (116), 72–74. 541. “Δικαῖος Β. Βαγιακάκος (1917 – 9 Μαρτίου 2016)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (116), 75f. 542. “Χρύσανθος Χρήστου (1922 – 25 ’Ιανουαρίου 2016)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (116), 77–80. 543. Review: K. S. Staikos/K. G. Papageorgiou (eds.), Τὰ 700 ἑλληνικὰ βιβλία τοῦ 20οῦ αἰώνα ποὺ ξεχώρισαν, Athens 2013, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (117), 86–93. 544. “’Επιγραφικὰ παράδοξα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (117), 94, 120. 545. “Τὰ ἀρχαία ἑλληνικὰ στὴ ζωὴ τῶν Ἑλλήνων”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (118), 123–135. 546. “Τὰ κείμενα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (118), 136–211. 547. “«Παράδοσις μὴ στηριζόμενη ἐπὶ τῆς ἀληθείας εἶναι πεπαλαιωμένη πλάνη»”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (118), 212–214. 548. “Τὸ νέο γλωσσικὸ ζήτημα ἢ τὸ φακιόλιον καὶ ἡ καλύπτρα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (119), 221–223. 549. “Καὶ πάλι ὁ Καποδίστριας”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (119), 224–238. 550. “Ποίημα στὸν Στάλιν”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (119), 239–241. 551. “Σπῦρος Εὐαγγελάτος (1940 – 24 ’Ιανουαρίου 2017)”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 29 (119), 242f.

Vasileios Petrakos: A Life Dedicated to the Service of Greek Archaeology  LXXVII

552. “Παρουσίαση τοῦ ἀκαδημαϊκοῦ κ. Μιλτιάδη Χατζόπουλου κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχή του στὴν ’Ακαδημία”, in: ΠΑΑ 91Β, 28–35. 553. “Τὸ ’Εθνικὸ ’Αρχαιολογικὸ Μουσεῖο”, in: M. Lagogianni-Georgakarakou (ed.), ’Οδύσσειες. Κατάλογος ἔκθεσης στὸ ’Εθνικὸ ’Αρχαιολογικὸ Μουσεῖο, 03.10.2016 – 03.10.2017, Athens, 193– 196. 2017 554. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2016 [= Ergon 63], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 171, 2016, θ´–ιβ´. 555. Robert McCabe. Chronography. 180 Years Archaeological Society. Commentary by Vasileios Petrakos, Athens. Bilingual (Greek and English) edition. 556. (Ed.), Χρῆστος ’Ι. Καρούζος, 1967–2017, ΒΑΕ 311, Athens. 557. “Πρὸς τοὺς Ἑταίρους”, in: V. Ch. Petrakos (ed.), Χρῆστος ’Ι. Καρούζος, 1967–2017, ΒΑΕ 311, Athens, 1. 558. “Χρῆστος ’Ι. Καρούζος, 1967–2017”, in: V. Ch. Petrakos (ed.), Χρῆστος ’Ι. Καρούζος, 1967–2017, ΒΑΕ 311, Athens, 159–184. 559. “Νεκρολογία γιὰ τὸν ἀκαδημαϊκὸ Σπύρο Εὐαγγελάτο ”, in: ΠΑΑ 92Β, 65–67. 560. “Ἡ μνήμη εἶναι πάντα χρέος”, in: ΠΑΑ 92Β, 205–229. 561. “Χρῆστος ’Ι. Καρούζος”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 30 (120), 155–180. 562. “Ἡ ’Επιγραφικὴ τοῦ Σήμερα”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 30 (121), 187–239. 563. “’Επέτειος 50 χρόνων ἀπὸ τὸν θάνατο τοῦ Χρήστου Καρούζου”, in: ΠΑΑ 92Β, 119–139. 564. “Ἄνω τελεία – παρουσίαση τῆς ὁμότιτλης συλλογῆς ποιημάτων τῆς ἀκαδημαϊκοῦ κυρίας Κικῆς Δημουλᾶ”, in: ΠΑΑ 92Β, 189–202. 2018 565. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2017 [= Ergon 64], Athens. Compare also ΠΑΕ 172, 2017, θ´–ιβ´. 566. “Ἡ ἑλληνικὴ ἀρχαιολογία”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 31 (122), 3–74. 567. “Ἄγγελος Δεληβορριᾶς”, in: Ὁ Μέντωρ 31 (122), 75f. 568. “Panagiotis Stamatakis. Hüter des Gesetzes”, in: Badisches Landesmuseum Karlsruhe (ed.), Mykene. Die sagenhafte Welt des Agamemnon, Darmstadt, 27–29. 569. “Παρουσίαση τοῦ ἀντεπιστέλλοντος μέλους κ. Malkolm Hewitt Wiener κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχή του στὴν ’Ακαδημία”, in: ΠΑΑ 93Β, 44–48. 570. “Ἄγγελος Δεληβορριᾶς”, in: ΠΑΑ 93Β, 70–79. 2019 571. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2018 [= Ergon 65], Athens. 572. Ἡ ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικὴ Ἑταιρεία. Οἱ πρῶτες δεκαετίες, 1837–1909, BAE 321, Athens. 573. Βασίλειος Λεονάρδος 1857 – 1930, ΒΑΕ 322, Athens = Ὁ Μέντωρ 32 (123). 574. Ἡ ’Ακαδημία ’Αθηνῶν. Χρονογραφικὴ προσωπογραφία, Πραγματεῖαι ’Ακαδημίας ’Αθηνῶν 75, Athens. 575. “Παρουσίαση τοῦ ξένου ἑταίρου κ. Joseph Maran κατὰ τὴν ὑποδοχή του στὴν ’Ακαδημία”, in: ΠΑΑ 94Β, 86–90. 576. “Οἱ ἀρχαιότητες μετὰ τὸ ᾽21”, in: M. Lagogianni-Georgakarakou/Th. Koutsoyannis (eds.), Δι᾽ αὐτὰ πολεμήσαμεν. ’Αρχαιότητες καὶ Ἑλληνικὴ ’Επανάσταση, Athens, 218–231. 2020 577a. Ὁ δῆμος τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος III. Τὸ φρούριο, ΒΑΕ 324, Athens. 577b. Ὁ δῆμος τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος IV. Τὸ Νεμέσιον, ΒΑΕ 325, Athens.

LXXVIII  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos 577c. Ὁ δῆμος τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος V. Τὰ νομίσματα, οἱ λύχνοι, τὰ γλυπτά, ΒΑΕ 326, Athens. 577d. Ὁ δῆμος τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος VI. Οἱ ἐπιγραφές, τὰ χαράγματα, τὰ σταθμία, οἱ μαρτυρίες, ΒΑΕ 327, Athens. 578. (Ed.), Τὸ Ἔργον τῆς ‘Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας κατὰ τὸ 2019 [= Ergon 66], Athens.

Forthcoming 579. “Ἡ γένεση τῆς ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ὑπηρεσίας”, in: Περὶ τῶν ’Αρχαιοτήτων ἰδίως. Ἡ ’Αρχαιολογία στὴν Ἑλλάδα τοῦ 19ου αἰώνα μέσα ἀπὸ τὶς πηγὲς τοῦ ’Αρχείου τῶν Ὑπηρεσιῶν τῶν ’Αρχαιοτήτων, Συνέδριο Διεύθυνσης ’Εθνικοῦ ’Αρχείου Μνημείων, Τετάρτη 22 – Παρασκευὴ 24 ’Οκτωβρίου 2014, ’Αθήνα 2014, Athens, forthcoming. 580. Ἱστορία τῶν ἀρχαίων καὶ τῶν Ἑλλήνων ἀρχαιολόγων στὸν Πόλεμο καὶ τὴν Κατοχὴ (1940–1944), Athens, forthcoming. 581. “Πρόλογος”, in: A. Kokkou, ’Ιωάννης Τραυλός. Ἡ ζωὴ καὶ τὸ ἔργο του, Athens, forthcoming.

Bibliography Doukellis, P.N. (1998), “V. Petrakos, Les inscriptions d'Oropos”, in: Dialogues d'histoire ancienne, 24:2, 162. Dürrbach, F. (1890), De Oropo et Amphiarai sacro, Parisiis. Habicht, Ch. (1998), “Recent Activities at Rhamnous”, in: AJA 102, 388. Iakovidis, S. (2000), “’Επίσιμη ὑποδοχὴ τοῦ ἀκαδημαϊκοῦ Βασιλείου Πετράκου. Προσφώνηση”, in: ΠΑΑ 75Β, 556–558. Jameson, M.H. (1999), “Inscriptions from Cos and Oropus”, in: CPhil 94, 321–324. Kalogeropoulos, K. (2013), Τὸ ἱερὸ τῆς ’Αρτέμιδος Ταυροπόλου στὶς Ἁλὲς ’Αραφηνίδες (Λούτσα), I-II, Πραγματεῖαι τῆς ’Ακαδημίας ’Αθηνῶν 71, Athens. Ma, J. (2008), “The Return of the Black Hunter”, in: Cambridge Classical Journal 54, 188–208. Nawracala, R. (2014), Das Thesmophorion von Rhamnous, Hamburg. Oetjen, R. (2014), Athen im dritten Jahrhundert v. Chr. Politik und Gesellschaft in den Garnisonsdemen auf der Grundlage der inschriftlichen Überlieferung, Duisburg. Oliver, G.J. (2002), “Callimachus the Poet and Benefactor of the Athenians”, in: ZPE 140, 6–8. Papadimitriou, I. (1957), “’Ανασκαφαὶ ἐν Βραυρῶνι”, in: ΠΑΕ 112, 42–47. Polychronakou-Sgouritsa, N. (1988), “Τὸ μυκηναϊκὸ νεκροταφεῖο τῆς Βάρκιζας Βάρης”, in: ΑΔ 43 Α, 1–106. Raubitschek, A. E (1964), “Die Inschrift als Denkmal. Bemerkungen zur Methodologie der Inschriftenkunde”, in: Studium Generale 17, 219–228.

| Part I: Epigraphy and Ancient History

Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos

Thucydides, Historical Geography and the ‘Lost Years’ of Perdikkas II Abstract: Thucydides’ well-deserved reputation in his quest for the truth (1.20.3) and for his exactitude in the narration of events (1.22.2) does not necessarily signify that the great Athenian historian never resorted, not to deliberate lies, but to misleading obscurity in order to obfuscate events in which his or Athens’ good name was at stake. A case in point is the section on the responsibilities for the beginning of hostilities in Northern Greece (1.58.2–61.5) with the famous crux in 1.61.3–5. The aim of the present article is to show that historical geography and epigraphy can significantly contribute in making sense of a passage that pure philology has failed to clarify. Moreover, new knowledge acquired thereby makes possible a tentative reconstruction of the first part (354–332) of Perdikkas II’s reign.

 A Much Disputed Passage of Thucydides Perdikkas II appears ex abrupto in the first book of Thucydides’ Histories (1.56–57) in connexion with the affairs of Poteidaia in 433/2.1 After being mentioned en passant in 1.56 as suspect of fomenting, along with the Corinthians, the rebellion of Poteidaia against the Athenians,2 he is properly presented in 1.57 in the following terms:

 Vasileios Petrakos honoured me greatly by delivering the traditional speech for my reception at the Academy of Athens. On that occasion he went well beyond the limitations of a formal exercise, showing a rare appreciation not only of my strictly scientific, but also of my “extracurricular” endeavours. The least I can do in celebrating the sixtieth anniversary of the invaluable work he has carried out for the protection and the restoration of the ancient site of Rhamnous is to offer him, as a token of my lasting gratitude, a short paper on fifth-century Macedonia, but also Athens, a privileged field of his studies. The present article has its origins in a lecture delivered at the invitation of Robert Parker at Oxford in 2011. Its transformation into a written document would not have been possible without the help and constant support of my colleagues and dear friends of KERA, Paschalis Paschidis, Elena Martin Gonzales, Eirene Kalogridou and Sophia Saroglidou, and also the generosity of my German colleague Sabine Müller, who provided me with a copy of her very recent monograph on Perdikkas II. The map shown in Fig. 2 was literally offered to me by Eleni Gadolou. To all of them I address my warmest thanks. The author is of course exclusively responsible for all remaining omissions or errors.  1 All dates are implicitly BC. 2 Thuc. 1.56.2: οἱ Ἀθηναῖοι... δείσαντες μὴ ἀποστῶσιν ὑπό τε Περδίκκου πειθόμενοι καὶ Κορινθίων. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-001

  Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos In fact the Corinthians were already overtly hostile, and Perdikkas son of Alexander, king of the Macedonians, had been made an enemy, although he had been previously an ally and a friend. He was made an enemy because the Athenians made an alliance with his brother Philip and Derdas, who had joined forces against him.3

We are further informed that Perdikkas, out of fear (δεδιώς), had been encouraging the Spartans to declare war to the Athenians, had been trying to win over the Corinthians, in order to further the rebellion of Poteidaia, and had been striving to persuade the Chalkidians of Thrace and the Bottians to join the revolt, in order to have them as his allies against Athens. The Athenians reacted by ordering an expeditionary force of thirty warships and a thousand hoplites under Archestratos and some other generals, which was already operating in that area, to take preemptive measures against Poteidaia and the Chalkidian and Bottian cities. Altogether incidentally Thucydides adds that this force happened (ἔτυχον!) to be there, in order to invade Perdikkas’ realm.4 We subsequently read that Poteidaia, the Chalkidians and the Bottians actually revolted, and, following Perdikkas’ advice, abandoned their coastal cities and settled either in Olynthos or in territories granted to them by the Macedonian king in Mygdonia near Lake Bolbe; that the army under Archestratos found Poteidaia and other tributary cities in revolt, but, unable to wage war both against the rebels and Perdikkas, chose to join forces with Philip and Derdas in the invasion of Macedonia. They took Therme and besieged Pydna, where they were joined by a second Athenian force of forty warships and 2000 hoplites under the general Kallias and four other generals, who had been sent thither as reinforcements against the rebels and against a Peloponnesian expeditionary force under Aristeus dispatched to help these. At that point the Athenian generals considered that the situation in Chalkidike urgently required their presence. Therefore, they were constrained to conclude a treaty of alliance with Perdikkas.5 Then comes the famous crux: ἐπανίστανται ἐκ τῆς Μακεδονίας, καὶ ἀφικόμενοι ἐς Βέροιαν κἀκεῖθεν ἐπιστρέψαντες καὶ πειράσαντες τοῦ χωρίου καὶ οὐχ ἑλόντες ἐπορεύοντο κατὰ γῆν πρὸς τὴν Ποτείδαιαν, τρισχιλίοις μὲν ὁπλίταις ἑαυτῶν, χωρὶς δὲν τῶν ξυμμάχων πολλοῖς, ἱππεῦσι δὲ ἑξακοσίοις Μακεδόνων τοῖς μετὰ Φιλίππου καὶ Παυσανίου̣˙ ἅμα δὲ νῆες παρέπλεον ἑβδομήκοντα. κατ’ ὀλίγον δὲ προϊόντες τριταῖοι ἀφίκοντο ἐς Γίγωνον καὶ ἐστρατοπεδεύσαντο.6

 3 Thuc. 1.57.2–3: οἵ τε γὰρ Κορίνθιοι φανερῶς ἤδη διάφοροι ἦσαν, Περδίκκας τε ὁ Ἀλεξάνδρου Μακεδόνων βασιλεὺς ἐπεπολέμωτο ξύμμαχος πρότερον καὶ φίλος ὤν. ἐπολεμώθη δὲ ὅτι Φιλίππῳ τῷ ἑαυτοῦ ἀδελφῷ καὶ Δέρδᾳ κοινῇ πρὸς αὐτὸν ἐναντιουμένοις οἱ Ἀθηναῖοι ξυμμαχίαν ἐποιήσαντο. 4 Thuc. 1.57.4–6. 5 Thuc. 1.58–61.3. 6 Thuc. 1.61.4–5. Most recent studies on fifth-century Macedonia have not dealt in depth with this crux. A rare exception is the chapter “Frieden, Friedensbruch und die Frage nach dem Verantwortlichen” in Müller 2017, 141–147.

Thucydides, Historical Geography and the ‘Lost Years’ of Perdikkas II  

Why would an army besieging Pydna and eager to get to Poteidaia attack Beroia dozens of miles inland, instead of sailing across the Thermaic Gulf? Why would the Athenians, who had just concluded a treaty with Perdikkas, attempt to capture a major city of his realm? How could one make sense of a text saying that the Athenians move to leave Macedonia and arriving at Beroia and returning thence and attempting to storm that place and failing in their attempt, marched by land towards Poteidaia with three thousand hoplites of their own, without counting a great number of allied troops, and with six hundred Macedonian cavalry under Philip and Pausanias. Advancing at a leisurely pace they arrived at Gigonos three days later and camped there?

This is a real nightmare of a text, which has given rise to at least two emendations and to several ingenious but not wholly convincing interpretations.7 The emendation proposed by Theodor Bergk,8 in order to make some geographical sense of the Greek historian’s narrative, consisted in replacing Βέροια of the manuscripts by Βρέα, an Athenian colony of uncertain location in the Thraceward region, known only from an Attic inscription,9 a fragment of the comic poet Cratinus,10 and a fragment of Theopompos,11 but thought by some to be located in Krousis.12 This suggestion, however, did not gain wide acceptance, because the ancient scholiast of Thucydides clearly identifies the χωρίον that the Athenians failed to capture with Beroia, leaving no doubt about the accuracy of the manuscript tradition.13 Additionally, given that Strepsa –a widely accepted emendation of ἐπιστρέψαντες (see below)– was generally thought to be located in Mygdonia and in any case well to the north of Brea, it would have the Athenians moving in circles in the Chalkidic peninsula for no good reason, instead of marching to their urgent destination: Poteidaia. A more ingenious emendation, which consisted in reading κἀκεῖθεν ἐπὶ Στρέψαν instead of κἀκεῖθεν ἐπιστρέψαντες, was proposed by Willem G. Pluygers and was subsequently widely accepted.14 Thus, the Athenians would have marched to Strepsa via Beroia and would have unsuccessfully attempted to storm that city –and not Beroia, and they would have been fully justified in doing this, since Strepsa was one of their rebellious tributary cities. As Strepsa was supposedly located somewhere in Mygdonia and in any case to the north of the Chalkidic Peninsula, for example at the site

 7 See Gomme 1945; Hornblower 1991, 104f., with earlier bibliography. 8 Bergk 1865. 9 IG3 46. 10 PCG IV frg. 426. 11 FGrHist 115 F 145.2. 12 See now Psoma 2009. 13 Schol. ad Thuc. 1.61.4: τοῦ χωρίου˙ τῆς Βεροίας. 14 Cf. Hammond 1972, 183f.; Hammond/Griffith 1979, 122f. (N.G.L. Hammond); Hatzopoulos 1987, 54–60; Badian 1993, 174–179 and 240f., n. 12.

  Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos of Anchialos near the mouth of the river Echedoros (Gallikos),15 a place distant only 53 kilometres from the presumed location of Gigonos (Cape Epanomi), it would be only natural for Thucydides to describe the Athenian march from the former to the latter in three days as “leisurely”. There remained only one difficulty to smooth out, to wit why the army had not followed the coastal road from Pydna to Strepsa, but had first to move inland to Beroia; and this was taken care of by Charles Edson,16 who showed that the coastal road was not practicable before Roman times. Unfortunately, this elegant solution was based on shaky foundations, which eventually collapsed. In 1987 a thorough study of the road system of Lower Macedonia based on field research showed that Thucydides’ text could and indeed should stand practically as it had been transmitted, because Pluyger’s emendation was geographically untenable, since Strepsa could not have been situated on the coast of Mygdonia.17 The following year, the publication of a new epigraphic discovery showed beyond doubt that Strepsa was not located at Anchialos –probably rather the site of ancient Chalastra18– but, as we shall see below, in the interior of the Chalkidic peninsula, in the Anthemous valley, most likely at the ancient site by Basilika.19 Ernst Badian was quick to take advantage of these new developments concerning the geographical context of events in Northern Greece, in order to elucidate Archestratos’ presence in the Thermaic Gulf and to show that Thucydides was trying to obfuscate the plain fact that it was not Perdikkas, but the Athenians, who first opened the hostilities by staging an invasion of the Macedonian kingdom jointly with Derdas and Philip.20 Especially it enabled him to denounce the shameless Realpolitik of the Athenians and Thucydides’ hypocrisy or bias, who attempted to hide the plain fact that his compatriots compounded their earlier aggression by treacherously attacking Perdikkas again, as soon as they had concluded a new treaty of alliance with him.

 15 Cf. Hammond 1972, 183. 16 Edson 1955. 17 Hatzopoulos 1987, 54–60. Geyer 1930, 57–59, had already argued in respect of the manuscript tradition, but at the cost of an untenable historical reconstruction according to which the Athenian assault against Beroia would have been part of a joint Attico-Macedonian attempt to recover that city arbitrarily occupied by Derdas; cf. Gomme 1945, 216 n. 1. 18 The settlement at the Trapeza of Anchialos and the nearby cemetery of Sindos probably belong to the ancient city of Chalastra. See Hatzopoulos/Loukopoulou 1989, 87–92, with an update concerning the location of Klitai: the important settlement whose Archaic and Classical cemetery has a lifespan extending from the 6th to the 3rd centuries BC, which the recent (1990–1995) excavations at Nea Philadelphia have brought to light (Μισαηλίδου-Δεσποτίδου 2017, 308f.), could be a plausible candidate for the ancient city of Klitai known from the list of theorodokoi from Delphoi, Pliny and Ptolemy. For a full discussion, cf. Hatzopoulos forthcoming. 19 Hatzopoulos 1988, 41–43. 20 Badian 1993, 171–185.

Thucydides, Historical Geography and the ‘Lost Years’ of Perdikkas II  

Thus, according to Badian, Pluygers’ emendation had definitely to be abandoned. It was indeed Beroia which had been assaulted and the three days march had covered a distance of some 120 kilometres. He confirmed that the text could stand practically unchanged, provided that the καί before πειράσαντες be deleted. As to the qualification of the three-days march over 120 kilometres as “leisurely”, it would be the result of a misinterpretation of the Greek expression κατ’ ὀλίγον, which need not be translated “bit by bit”, but should be understood as “in parts”, “in detail”, for small detachments move much faster than a large army. A recent attempt to revive both the Brea and the Strepsa emendations based on the probably correct suggestion that a place in southern Krousis, midway between Gigonos and Poteidaia, called Βρύα in the Middle Ages and Βεριά more recently, continued in a corrupt form the ancient name of Βρέα, fails to make geographical sense.21 According to it, the Athenians, though hard pressed to reach Poteidaia, would have sailed from Pydna to Brea, but instead of camping there or marching in a south-eastern direction to cover the hardly more than c. 20 kilometres distance to Poteidaia, would have taken a northern direction covering some 50 kilometres, in order to attack Strepsa, and after failing to take that city, they would have marched back approximately the same distance to Gigonos and only then would have camped there.

 Historical Geography and Epigraphy The above example shows clearly how our expanded knowledge of topography has decisively altered our understanding of the events leading to the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War in northern Greece and how an inscription has radically modified the accepted geographical setting. What is true of the value of topography for our understanding of Macedonian history during periods for which we dispose of Thucydides’ narrative is –at least– equally true for our understanding of the earlier part of Perdikkas’ reign. It is to topography based on archaeological –and especially epigraphic– discoveries that we must turn again if we want to get a glimpse of Macedonian history from the accession of Perdikkas to power down to the point when the Macedonian king “had been made an enemy, although he had been previously an ally and a friend.”22

 21 Psoma 2009, 263–280. 22 Thuc. 1.57.2. For an exhaustive panorama of Perdikkas’ relations with Athens, see now section V (“V. Perdikkas und/versus Athen”) of the excellent monograph Müller 2017, 125–239.

  Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos Until the early 1980s scholarship on fifth-century Macedonia was by necessity almost exclusively based – in addition to very inadequate ancient texts23– on inscriptions extra fines provinciae repertae. We are indeed fortunate in that the beginning of Perdikkas’ reign coincides with the beginning of the Attic ἀπαρχαί catalogues, the so called Athenian Tribute Lists, stretching from 454/3 to 415/4 and precisely covering his whole reign.24 These catalogues listed the amount corresponding to the sixtieth of the tribute received from each member of the Athenian League and destined to the treasury of the goddess Athena. Their value, great as it was, especially for periods such as the whole first part of Perdikkas’ reign, from c. 454 to 432, to which we shall now turn (and for which we have only a single information from a literary source: a fragment of Theopompos mentioning the refuge given by the Macedonian king to the citizens of Histiaia who had been expelled en masse from their home city by Pericles in 446),25 was severely curtailed by the lack of support from local documentary sources of information. How misleading such one-sided sources can be becomes obvious when we compare the map reflecting the geopolitical interpretation of the aparchai catalogues by the authors of The Athenian Tribute Lists (Fig. 1) with a map based on the progress accomplished in the less than seventy years since 1953, the date of publication of the final volume of this monumental work (Fig. 2).

 23 Unfortunately, our knowledge of the political geography of Macedonia in the 5th century BC is far from adequate. Northern Greece has not had the fortune of being included in Pausanias’ or some other ancient author’s systematic periegesis. Moreover, the seventh book of Strabo’s Geography, which was devoted to Macedonia and Thrace, has come down to us in a fragmentary state. We are thus left with the lists of cities and sub-regions compiled by authors of geographic works, such as Pliny the Elder, Claudius Ptolemy and Hierocles, and with a couple of Roman Itineraries. The geopolitical situation of Macedonia as a frontier region of Greece since Antiquity had two other consequences: on the one hand, it has exposed her to invasions and other demographic upheavals, which have affected more than elsewhere its toponymy, and on the other has delayed its archaeological exploration. 24 Meritt et al. 1939–1953, henceforth ATL. Cf. IG I3 259–290 (aparchai); 71; 77; 100 (assessments). 25 FGrHist 115 F 387: Θεόπομπος δέ φησι Περικλέους χειρουμένου Εὔβοιαν τοῖς Ἱστιαιεῖς καθ’ ὁμολογίας εἰς Μακεδονίαν μεταστῆναι, δισχιλίους δ’ ἐξ Ἀθηνῶν ἐλθόντας εἰς Ὠρεὸν οἰκῆσαι, δῆμον ὄντα πρότερον Ἱστιαιέων.

Thucydides, Historical Geography and the ‘Lost Years’ of Perdikkas II  

Fig. 1: Map showing Athenian Possessions in the Macedonian Region according to ATL I (1939).

Fig. 2: Map showing the Macedonian Region at the Beginning of the Peloponnesian War (from author).

  Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos On the map inserted in the first ATL volume (Fig. 1),26 Macedonia appears as a landlocked state cut from access to the sea by a series of Athenian possessions around the Thermaic Gulf, from south-west to south-east: Herakleion, Haison (supposedly situated near Pydna), Methone, Othoros (identified with Aloros by the editors of the ATL), Strepsa (supposedly situated in Mygdonia), Sinos (identified with Sindos), Serme (identified with Therme), Aineia, Dikaia, Smila, Skapsa, Gigonos, Haisa, Spartolos, Poteidaia; and in the Strymonic Gulf by Stageira, Bormiskos, Argilos, Amphipolis and Neapolis. Perdikkas is left with a single access to the sea: Pydna. Charles Edson, who had widely travelled in Macedonia in the years 1936–1939 while preparing the corresponding volume of the Inscriptiones Graecae, and possessed thus a first-hand knowledge both of the topography and the epigraphy of Macedonia, was the first to strike a blow to this construct in 1947.27 He demonstrated that before the Peloponnesian War the coast of Pieria and Bottia was practically free of Athenian possessions. Their presence at Herakleion was but a late development and the result of a successful coup de main connected with Athenian activities in this area after 430/29 and probably before 425/4. It does not seem to have lasted beyond 421. Haison was shown to be out of place in Pieria and was convincingly identified with Haisa mentioned by Herodotus as a city in Krousis.28 Methone –pace ATL III 133–37 (1950)– first appears in Athenian records in 430/29 and probably did not join the Athenian arche before the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War. Othoros in the tribute lists has nothing to do with Pliny’s corrupt form Oloros, whether it be connected with the city of Aloros in Bottia, near the mouth of Haliakmon, or not.29 Sinos is a city of Bottike in the Chalkidic peninsula, situated near the future Kassandreia and has no connexion whatsoever with the Mygdonian city of Sindos.30 Finally Serme cannot be identified with Therme (probably located at Toumba by Thessalonike, with its port at Karabournaki), since the latter form is used by all ancient sources, including a document of the fifth-century Athenian chancery mentioning the Thermaic (and not Sermaic!) Gulf. Edson thus established that at least before the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War the whole Thermaic façade of the Macedonian kingdom was entirely free of Athenian possessions with the possible exception of Strepsa. This supposedly last bastion of Athenian power on the western shores of the gulf had to be removed, when an inscription discovered on the site of future Kassandreia showed beyond doubt that it was located in the interior of the Chalkidic peninsula, most probably at Basilika, as we have mentioned above.31  26 ATL I (1939) at the end of the volume. 27 Edson 1947. 28 Hdt. 7.123. 29 On Aloros, see Hatzopoulos 1987, 37–40, identification confirmed by subsequent excavations. For the relevant bibliography, see Γουναροπούλου et al. 2015, 29–46. 30 Cf. Syll3 332. 31 Hatzopoulos 1988, 41–43.

Thucydides, Historical Geography and the ‘Lost Years’ of Perdikkas II  

What was the situation farther east?32 The territories conquered by Amyntas I after c. 510 and especially Alexander I after 479 were not automatically assimilated to the rest of the kingdom. Depending on the particular circumstances of the conquest of each district, some of the previous inhabitants were killed or expelled, but most of them retained their homes. Whole tracts of land, and in particular forests and mines, became Crown property, but as a general rule subject cities and peoples remained in possession of their territories, probably assuming the obligation to pay some form of tribute and to supply “allied” contingents to the royal levy. Sooner or later, the need of a viceroy or Lieutenant General, who would be responsible for defending these “New Lands”, for keeping the subject cities and peoples in obedience, and for collecting the tribute, was made felt. The members of the royal family were the obvious candidates for such a position of trust and power. At any rate, already before the inception of the Peloponnesian War the eastern marches of Perdikkas’ kingdom constituted a particular governorship under his younger brother, Philip. It comprised the areas invaded by Sitalkes in 429, when he tried to restore Philip’s son Amyntas in his father’s former arche, to wit the Axios valley with the cities Idomene, Gortynia, Europos and Allante and the regions Mygdonia, Grestonia, Anthemous, and Bisaltia.33 Beyond the Strymon basin lay the lands of the Odomantoi and the Edones under their own kings, Polles34 and Pittakos35 respectively. In particular in Bisaltia Athenian possessions completely shut the Macedonian kingdom off from the sea: Argilos at least since 454/3 (and Amphipolis after 437/6). As we shall see, Athenian inroads in this area went indeed even further inland with the inclusion in the Athenian arche of Berge from 452/1, of Hedrolos/Ero(l)os from 450/49,36 and finally with the annexation of Tragilos after the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War. The extent of the Athenian gains in this sector became manifest only recently thanks to new epigraphic discoveries which permitted the identification of Berge with Neos Skopos37 and of Hedrolos/Ero(l)os with Kalokastron38 in the hinterland of Bisaltia, some 45 and 60 kilometres from Amphipolis respectively. In the West the situation was as Thucydides (2.99.2) appositely describes it.39 The Upper Macedonians, the Lynkestai and other Elimiotai were “allied and subordinate” to Perdikkas, but “had their own kingships”. This picture is confirmed by the much

 32 On Persians, Parians (Thasians), Athenians and Macedonians in the Strymon valley before the foundation of Amphipolis, see the excellent and in depth study Mari 2014. 33 Hatzopoulos 1996, 174–176. 34 Thuc. 5.6.2: παρὰ Πολλῆν τὸν Ὀδομάντων βασιλέα. 35 Thuc. 4.107.3: Πιττακοῦ τοῦ Ἠδώνων βασιλέως ἀποθανόντος ὑπὸ τῶν Γοάξιος παίδων καὶ Βραυροῦς τῆς γυναικὸς αὐτοῦ. 36 Hatzopoulos 2010. 37 Bonias 2000; Ματθαίου 2000–2003; cf. Hatzopoulos 2008, 31–33. 38 Hatzopoulos 2008, 42–46; Hatzopoulos 2010 . 39 Thuc. 2.99.2.

  Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos discussed treaty between Athens and Macedon, which in my opinion dates from the years preceding the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War and which, besides Perdikkas, mentions “the kings with Perdikkas”.40 They figure among the witnesses to the treaty who took the oath. Among the names preserved on the fragmentary inscription are those of Arrhabaios, king of the Lynkestai, Derdas, king of the Elimiotai and Antiochos, king of the Orestai, all prominent actors during the first years of the war according to Thucydides. Recent field research has now enabled us to define the extent of Perdikkas’ sway on the ground. Arnisa, mentioned by Thucydides as πρῶτον τῆς Περδίκκου ἀρχῆς,41 has been identified with the ancient site near the modern village of Vegora on the southern shores of Lake Bokeritis.42 Beyond that point lay the εἰσβολὴ of Lynkos43 and the realms of the Upper Macedonian kinglets, whose loyalty was always open to question.

 Towards Reconstructing the Lost Years of Perdikkas II Having restored the Macedonian kingdom as it really was before and during the Peloponnesian War, we can return to the disputed chapters of Thucydides and try to tease out their sense, replacing them in the wider context of Perdikkas II’s reign. The first thing that we learn from Thucydides is that Perdikkas had been made an enemy, because the Athenians had concluded an alliance with his brother Philip and with Derdas, who had joined forces against him. Derdas has long since be identified with the king of the Elimiotai figuring in the Attico-Macedonian treaty. His opposition to Perdikkas and alliance with Athens fits into the same pattern as the similar behaviour of Arrhabaios, king of the Lynkestai, some years later and may be considered as “normal” for an unruly Upper Macedonian kinglet.44 The case of Philip is different. Although, as argued above, he used to occupy the paramount position of Lieutenant General for the eastern possessions of the Temenid kingdom from the Axios to the Strymon valley, we find him campaigning with Derdas’ brothers at the head of an army coming not from the “New Lands”, but from Upper Macedonia, that is to say from the opposite direction.45 How had he fallen out with his brother and allied himself to the Elimiote royal family and the Athenians? Historical geography can help us find the answer to this query.  40 IG I3 89. For the date, cf. ATL III 313, n. 61. 41 Thuc. 4.128.3. 42 Hammond/Hatzopoulos 1982. 43 Thuc. 4.127.2. 44 For the kinglets of Upper Macedonia, see Hammond/Griffith 1979, 14–22 (N.G.L. Hammond). 45 Thuc. 1.59.2.

Thucydides, Historical Geography and the ‘Lost Years’ of Perdikkas II  

Herodotus, writing at the end of Alexander I’s reign or the very beginning of Perdikkas’ reign informs us that “there is a very short route from Lake Prasias to Macedonia. First next to the lake lies the mine from which later (i.e. later than c. 510) one silver talent accrued to Alexander every day; after the mine, if one crosses over the mountain called Dysoron, he is already in Macedonia”.46 It is clear that one has to distinguish three chronological layers in this narration: that of the event described, which is the Persian embassy to Dareios in c. 510, that of a time when Alexander exploited the mine near lake Prasias, which is of a later date, and that of an even later period, when Herodotus was writing his historical work. By then Macedonia had lost the basin of Lake Prasias and the mine, and its border had been moved some distance westwards on Mount Dysoron.47 The publication in 1985 of the letter sent home from Persepolis by the ambassadors of Philippi and containing Alexander the Great’s decisions concerning the territory of that city48 offered the first epigraphic evidence on Mount Dysoron and “the marshes” of Philippi. More recent scholarship based on these new data was able to establish that Mount Dysoron should be identified with Mount Menoikion and Lake Prasias with “the marshes” of Philippi, the ancient lake of Daton.49 It becomes evident therefore that at the time of the composition of Herodotus’ Histories the Strymon basin, which Mount Dysoron bordered on the east, was still part of the Macedonian realm. In effect, in 465 or 464 an Athenian attempt to found a colony Ennea Hodoi foundered after the crushing defeat of the aspiring colonists by a Thracian coalition at Drabeskos.50 Thus Alexander, possibly in connivance with the local Thracians, had been able to ward off the Athenians, and Kimon nearly paid the price, because he had failed to “cut off” a substantial part of Macedonia.51 But a few years later, in 451, Pericles was able to settle one thousand Athenian klerouchoi in Bisaltia.52 It is perhaps then also that Philip was appointed Lieutenant General in the “New Lands” by his  46 Hdt. 5.17.2. 47 Hatzopoulos/Loukopoulou 1992, 20f. 48 Cl. Vatin 1985. 49 Faraguna 1998, 374–376; Hatzopoulos 2008. The first to suggest that Mount Dysoron should possibly be identified with Mount Menoikion, and Lake Prasias, with the Lake of Datos, that is to say the marshes of Philippoi, was Missitzis 1985. For a different –but in my opinion unconvincing– view, see Vassiliev 2015, 91–103. 50 Thuc. 1.100.3; 4.102.2; Hdt. 9.75; Diod. 11.70.5; 12.68.2; Paus. 1.29.4. 51 Plut. Cim. 14.2: ἐκεῖθεν δὲ ῥᾳδίως ἐπιβῆναι Μακεδονίας καὶ πολλὴν ἀποτεμέσθαι παρασχόν, ὡς ἐδόκει, μὴ θελήσας αἰτίαν ἔσχε δώροις ὑπὸ τοῦ βασιλέως Ἀλεξάνδρου συμπεπεῖσθαι, καὶ δίκην ἔφυγε τῶν ἐχθρῶν συστάντων ἐπ’ αὐτόν. 52 Plut. Pericl. 11.5: πρὸς δὲ τούτοις χιλίους μὲν ἔστειλεν εἰς Χερρόνησον κληρούχους, εἰς δὲ Νάξον πεντακοσίους, εἰς δ’ Ἄνδρον τοὺς ἡμίσεις τούτων, εἰς δὲ Θρᾴκην χιλίους Βισάλταις συνοικήσοντας. Hammond in Hammond/Griffith 1979, 117f., believes that Pericles proceeded in agreement with a local (Bisaltian?) king Mosses, known only from his coinage, who had seceded from the Macedonian kingdom.

  Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos brother Perdikkas, in order to restore the Macedonian positions in the eastern marches of the kingdom or at least to defend them against further Athenian encroachments. By 437/6, however, the Macedonian hold on the Strymon valley was in shreds, and Philip’s governorship had proved a complete failure. Not only had he been unable to recover Argilos, Berge and Hedrolos, but he had also been incapable of stopping the Athenians from putting Ennea Hodoi (Amphipolis) under their control. All these setbacks had occurred on Philip’s watch. Was he a traitor or simply inefficient? What is certain is that he and his son Amyntas had sought to secure the goodwill – φιλία according to Thucydides– of the subject populations –particularly of Southern Greek colonists– by their benefactions.53 They might have accomplished the highest act of evergesia to which a Greek could aspire, the foundation of a new city, Herakleia, near the crossing of the Axios.54 Be that as it may, the final straw, which must have sealed Philip's fate, came with the founding of Amphipolis by the Athenians in 437/6. The establishment of a hostile colony controlling the outlet of the Strymon valley, rich in precious metals and timber, posed a major threat to the Macedonian kingdom, and Perdikkas –family or no family– had to react. Did he depose his brother, who then, in self-defence, allied himself with Athens, or was his alliance with the Athenians a preemptive precaution, not to say high treason, as would be the case if IG I3 67 is indeed the text of the treaty between Athens and himself,55 and not between Athens and Mytilene56 or between Athens and Troezen?57 Whatever it was, by 332 the Athenians were honouring their treaty obligations by sending an expedition of thirty warships and 1,000 hoplites under Archestratos to join forces with Philip and the Elimiotai coming down from Upper Macedonia. Thucydides states explicitly that the destination of the expedition was Macedonia proper, the heartland of the Temenid kingdom, and actually the allied forces started by besieging Therme, which may originally have belonged to Philip’s arche and which they took, and Pydna, which the failed to capture.58 It is clear that the Athenians did not dispose of any stronghold on the western shores of the Thermaic Gulf and urgently needed one in order to effectively cooperate with Derdas and Philip. Therme, which they managed to take, was not convenient, for it was far removed from the power base of their Upper Macedonian allies. Hence the urge to capture Pydna, which is the closest Macedonian harbour to Elimeia. Here again we are assisted by historical geography. As my 1987 study tried to establish, there was an ancient road, taken two hundred and ten years later by the theoroi of

 53 Thuc. 2.100.3: Γορτυνίαν δὲ καὶ Ἀταλάντην καὶ ἄλλα ἄττα χωρία ὁμολογίᾳ διὰ τὴν Ἀμύντου φιλίαν προσχωροῦντα τοῦ Φιλίππου υἱέος παρόντος. Cf. Hatzopoulos 1996, 468. 54 Γουναροπούλου/Χατζόπουλος 1985, 68–71. 55 Schweigert 1939, 170f.; cf. Hammond/Griffith 1979, 122 (N.G.L. Hammond). 56 B.D. Meritt in IG I3 67 with earlier bibliography. 57 Mattingly 2000. 58 Thuc. 1.59–61.

Thucydides, Historical Geography and the ‘Lost Years’ of Perdikkas II  

Delphoi, which cut across the northern prong of the Pierian mountains and, bypassing Aloros and the ancient capital Aigeai, lead directly from Pydna to the ford of the Haliakmon by Beroia.59 An inscription mentioning the Euiastic gate of Beroia has more recently revealed the itinerary followed by the main route from the Haliakmon ford to Elimeia: it went through the city of Beroia and the Kastania pass over Mount Bermion to the Elimiote town of Euia by the modern village of Polymylos,60 and thence to Aiane, the seat of the kings of Elimeia. Seen within this geopolitical context, the movements of the Athenians and their allies finally become clear. In 432, the Athenians were torn between two urgencies: on the one hand they needed to hurry to Poteidaia, in order to put down the revolt, and on the other they were under pressure to keep open a line of communication with the power base of their allies. To satisfy the first need, they abandoned for the time being the siege of Pydna and concluded, tongue in cheek, a treaty with Perdikkas. But they –or their allies– could not resist the temptation of a coup de main against Beroia, which, had it succeeded, would have secured for them a safe line of communication with Elimeia. After the failure of their assault, they pursued their route towards Poteidaia. If the 3,000 Athenian hoplites had been alone, they might have been ferried by the ships to Gigonos. But they were accompanied by six hundred Elimiote cavalry and “a great number of allies”. Thus the army marched to Gigonos, while the navy circumnavigated or sailed through the Thermaic Gulf.

Bibliography Badian, E. (1993), From Plataea to Potidaea: Studies in the History and the Historiography of the Pentecontaetia, Baltimore/London. Bergk, T. (1865), “Zu Thukydides”, in: Philologus 22, 536–539. Bonias, Z. (2000), “Une inscription de l’ancienne Bergè”, in: BCH 124, 227–246. Γουναροπούλου, Λ./Χατζόπουλος, Μ.Β. (1998), Ἐπιγραφὲς Κάτω Μακεδονίας. Τεῦχος Α΄. Ἐπιγραφὲς Βεροίας, Athens. Γουναροπούλου, Λ./Πασχίδης, Π./Χατζόπουλος, Μ.Β. (2015), Ἐπιγραφὲς Κάτω Μακεδονίας. Τεῦχος Β΄, Μέρος Α΄: Ἐπιγραφὲς Ἀλώρου Αἰγεῶν, Μίεζας, Μαρινίας, Σκύδρας, Νεαπόλεως, Ἔδεσσας, Athens. Edson, Ch. (1947), “Notes on the Thracian Phoros”, in: CP 42, 88–105. Edson, Ch. (1955), “Strepsa (Thucydides 1.61.4)”, in: CP 50, 169–190. Faraguna, M. (1998), “Aspetti amministrativi e finanzari della monarchia macedone tra IV e III secolo a.C.”, in: Athenaeum 86, 349–395. Geyer, F. (1930), Makedonien bis zur Thronbesteigung Philipps II. Mit einer Übersicht über die Topographie Makedoniens, Munich/Berlin. Gomme, A.W. (1945), A Historical Commentary on Thucydides I, Oxford.

 59 Hatzopoulos 1987, 32; 35–37; 52–53. Cf. Ouhlen 1992; see particularly p. 499. 60 Γουναροπούλου/Χατζόπουλος 1998, 41; cf. Ριζάκης/Τουράτσογλου 1985, 87, an inscription discovered in this area and mentioning the Euiestai.

  Miltiades B. Hatzopoulos Gounaropoulou, L./Hatzopoulos, M.B. (1985), Les milliaires de la Voie Egnatienne entre Héraclée des Lyncestes et Thessalonique, Μελετήματα 1, Athens. Hammond, N.G.L. (1972), A History of Macedonia. Volume I: Historical Geography and Prehistory, Oxford. Hammond, N.G.L./Griffith, G.T. (1979), A History of Macedonia II: 550–336 B.C., Oxford. Hammond, N.G.L./Hatzopoulos, M.B. (1982), “The Routes through Lyncus and Eordaea in Western Macedonia”, in: AJAH 7, 128–149. Hatzopoulos, M.B. (1987), “Strepsa: A Reconsideration or New Evidence on the Road System of Lower Macedonia”, in: M.B. Hatzopoulos/L.D. Loukopoulou, Two Studies in Ancient Macedonian Topography, Μελετήματα 3, Athens, 54–60. Hatzopoulos, M.B. (1988), Une donation du roi Lysimaque, Μελετήματα 5, Athens. Hatzopoulos, M.B. (1996), Macedonian Institutions under the Kings I. A Historical and Epigraphic Study, Μελετήματα 22, Athens. Hatzopoulos, M.B. (2008), “Retour à la vallée du Strymon”, in: L.D. Loukopoulou/S. Psoma (eds.), Thrakika Zetemata I, Μελετήματα 58, Athens, 13–54. Hatzopoulos, M.B. (2010), “ΗΕΔΡΟΛΟΣ ΑΡΡΩΛΟΣ”, in: G. Reger/F.X. Ryan/T.F. Winters (eds.), Studies in Greek Epigraphy and History in Honor of Stephen V. Tracy, Bordeaux, 229–236. Hatzopoulos, M.B. (forthcoming), Ancient Macedonia: Two Centuries of Studies. Hatzopoulos, M.B./Loukopoulou, L.D. (1989), Morrylos, cité de Chrestonie, Μελετήματα 7, Athens. Hatzopoulos, M.B./Loukopoulou, L.D. (1992), Recherches sur les marches orientales des Téménides (Anthemonte – Kalindoia), Μελετήματα 11, Athens/Paris. Hornblower, S. (1991), A Commentary on Thucydides I. Books I–III, Oxford. Mari, M. (2014), “‘Un luogo calcato da molti piedi’: la valle dello Strimone prima di Anfipoli”, in: Historika 4, 53–114. Ματθαίου, Α.Π. (2000–2003), “Ἐπιγραφὴ ἐκ Βέργης”, in: HOROS 14–16, 227–232. Mattingly, H. (2000), “Athenian Treaties with Troezen and Hermione”, in: Historia 49, 131–140. Meritt, H.T./Wade-Gery, H.T./McGregor, M.F. (1939–1953), The Athenian Tribute Lists I–III, Harvard/ Princeton. (cited as ATL). Μισαηλίδου-Δεσποτίδου, B. (2017), “Νέα Φιλαδέλφεια”, in: Α. Βλαχόπουλος/Δ. Τσιαφάκη (eds.), Ἀρχαιολογία - Μακεδονία καὶ Θράκη, Athens, 308f. Missitzis, L. (1985), “A Royal Decree of Alexander the great on the Lands of Philippi”, in: AncWorld 12, 3–14. Müller, S. (2017), Perdikkas II – Retter Makedoniens, Berlin. Ouhlen, J. (1992), Les Théarodoques de Delphes. Thèse de doctorat préparée sous la direction de M. O. Masson, professeur à l’Université de Paris X, Nanterre. Psoma, S. (2009), “Thucydide I, 61,4: Béroia et la nouvelle localisation de Bréa”, in: REG 122, 265– 269. Ριζάκης, Θ./Τουράτσογλου, Γ. (1985), Ἐπιγραφὲς Ἄνω Μακεδονίας (Ἑλίμεια, ’Εορδαία, Νότια Λυγκηστίς, ’Ορεστίς), Athens. Schweigert, E. (1939), “Epigraphical Notes”, in: Hesperia 8, 170–176. Vassiliev, M.I. (2015), The Policy of Darius and Xerxes towards Thrace and Macedonia, Leiden. Vatin, C. (1985), “Lettre adressée à la cité de Philippes par les ambassadeurs auprès d’Alexandre”, in: Πρακτικὰ τοῦ Η΄ Διεθνοῦς Συνεδρίου Ἑλληνικῆς καὶ Λατινικῆς Ἐπιγραφικῆς. Ἀθήνα, 3–9 Ὀκτωβρίου 1982. Τόμος Α΄, Athens, 259–270.

Kevin Clinton

Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods The Samothracians are proud of their sacred rites, which are the most renowned of all except for the Eleusinian.1

Abstract: Since at least the mid fifth century B.C. Athenians were sufficiently familiar with the Samothracian Mysteria that they would have understood an allusion to a public or even secret aspect of this well-known festival, as indicated in passages in Herodotus and Aristophanes and by close religious and cultural connections between Samothrace and Athens down to at least the fourth quarter of the fourth century. Thus Athenians were probably participating with some regularity in the Samothracian cult. Its known formal structure is identical to the Eleusinian (πρόρρησις, μύσται, ἐπόπται), and most likely also included, as at Eleusis, a preliminary initiation of purification. In Plato’s Euthydemus (277d–e) Socrates employs the metaphor of thronosis ἐν τῇ τελετῇ τῶν Κορυβάντων, a rite preliminary to initiation, to illustrate what the sophists Euthydemos and Dionysodoros are doing to Kleinias. This preliminary rite belonged to a cult in which it would have been perfectly natural for a member of the Athenian aristocracy to have participated, even for Socrates himself. Analysis of the passage and Plato’s positions on public and private cults suggests that it was neither a state nor a private cult in Athens. According to a hypothesis proposed by Arthur D. Nock, such a preliminary telete could have occurred in the Mysteria at Samothrace. The role of thronosis as a metaphor used by Socrates allows us to draw inferences about the possilbe role of a Korybantic ritual as a preliminary initiation in actual cult, which in turn allows us to determine whether it could have played a role in the Samothracian Mysteria. τὰ τῶν Κορυβάντων ἰάματα, the therapeutic cure described in Pl. Leg. 790c–791b as a psychic purification, best suits the type of purificatory rite alluded to at Euthyd. 277d–e and the pre-requisites for initiation in the Samothracian Mysteria. The long-standing association of Korybantes with Samothrace and their overwhelming presence in the Samothracian landscape, as limned by Nonnus, strongly suggest a significant role in the island’s famous mystery cult, most appropriately played in a preliminary stage.

 1 Aristid. Panathenaicus 363. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-002

  Kevin Clinton

 Athens and the Samothracian Kabeiroi The earliest evidence concerning the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods comes from fifth-century Athens: Herodotus in the third quarter of the century;2 Aristophanes, Peace, in 421; and Stesimbrotus, teaching in Athens around this time. Herodotus’ statement (2.51–52) is especially informative: Fashioning statues of Hermes to have erect phalli they (the Greeks) did not learn from the Egyptians. But it was from the Pelasgians that the Athenians were the first of the Greeks to receive this practice, and the others received it from them. Already at that time the Athenians were reckoned as Greeks when the Pelasgians got to live with them in their land, and consequently began to be regarded also as Greeks. Whoever has been initiated (μεμύηται) in the rites of the Kabeiroi (τὰ Καβείρων ὄργια), which the Samothracians celebrate, having received them from Pelasgians, knows what I mean. These Pelasgians who got to live together with the Athenians were previously living in Samothrace, and it is from them that the Samothracians inherit the rites (ὄργια). Thus the Athenians, as the first Greeks to fashion ithyphallic statues of Hermes, learned this from Pelasgians. The Pelasgians told a certain sacred story (ἱρόν τινα λόγον) about it, which has been revealed in the Mysteria in Samothrace (τὰ ἐν τοῖσι ἐν Σαμοθρηίκῃ μυστηρίοισι δεδήλωται).

The sentence, “Whoever has been initiated into the rites of the Kabeiroi, which the Samothracians celebrate, having received them from Pelasgians, knows what I mean,” implies that many members of his audience, including Athenians, do know what he means because they were initiated in the Samothracian Mysteria.3 He goes on to say that both the Athenians and Samothracians received religious traditions from the Pelasgians: the Athenians, the practice of making ithyphallic statues of Hermes; the Samothracians, secret rites (orgia), involving mystai (Ὅστις … μεμύηται), called μυστήρια.4 Clearly Herodotus was an initiate,5 and the emphasis in his discussion on ithyphallicism and Hermes suggests that this ithyphallic god played a role in the Mysteria, which is indeed corroborated by other testimonia.6 Finally, it is noteworthy

 2 Perhaps narrating to an Athenian audience; on the question of Herodotus’ sojourn in Athens, Asheri et al. 2007, 3–5; cf. Marincola 2001, 20–22. 3 Cf. Burkert 1993, 181: “Herodotus presupposes that Samothracian Mysteries, in the form of secret rites connected with a ‘sacred tale’ (hieros logos), are not only in existence by his time, are well known to his public, and that many of them have had their ‘initiation into the rites,’ while, of course, the secret has to be kept.” On Herodotus’ audience cf. Fowler 2013, 18. 4 Herodotus’ reference to “Pelasgians” and their “Sacred Story” undoubtedly was based on the nonGreek language (most likely Thracian) spoken by the pre-Greek inhabitants of Samothrace, still in use in the Mysteria in his time, at least to some extent. On the use of “Pelasgian” to refer to pre-Greeks or non-Greek speakers cf. Lloyd 1994, 232–234, 240–242; Fowler 2013a, 84–96. On the non-Greek language used in the Samothracian Mysteria, Diodorus 5.47.2–3; Hemberg 1950, 120–126; Lehmann 1955, 93–100; Bonfante 1955, 101–109; Lehmann 1960; Brixhe 2006. 5 Cf. Graham 2002, 234. 6 Hemberg 1950, 92–96, 308f.; Burkert 1993, 181–183; Clinton 2003, 68f.

Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods  

that he refers to the gods as Kabeiroi, a name not used in any of the preserved inscriptions from Samothrace, where they are always called Θεοὶ Μεγάλοι; and this has led some scholars to deny that they were called Kabeiroi.7 But there is no reason to doubt that the name was in use when Herodotus was initiated. The name Kabeiroi is corroborated by another contemporary witness, Stesimbrotus of Thasos (FGrH 107 F 20 = Strabo 3.19–20): But others say that the Corybantes were sons of Zeus and Calliope, and that they were identical with the Cabeiri, and that these went off for Samothrace, which formerly was called Melite, and that their rites were secret (μυστικάς). But though the Scepsian, who compiled these myths, does not accept this, on the ground that no mystical story about the Cabeiri is told in Samothrace (ὡς μηδενὸς ἐν Σαμοθρᾴκῃ μυστικοῦ λόγου περὶ Καβείρων λεγομένου), still he cites the opinion of Stesimbrotos of Thasos, that the sacred rites in Samothrace were performed in honor of the Cabeiri (τὰ ἐν Σαμοθρᾴκῃ ἱερὰ τοῖς Καβείροις ἐπιτελοῖτο); and (the Scepsian) also says that they were called Cabeiri after the mountain Cabeirus in Berecyntia).8

Since it would be quite unreasonable to deny that Herodotus as an initiate witnessed a sacred logos, it is tempting to infer that Demetrius of Scepsis was not an initiate. As Stesimbrotus was from neighboring Thasos, it is entirely plausible that he, like Herodotus, witnessed the Mysteria.9 That the Kabeiroi were central deities in the Samothracian Mysteria and they were two in number is confirmed in a grave epigram for an Athenian by the name of Isidoros, who was initiated in both the Samothracian and Eleusinian Mysteria in approximately the 1st century BC:10 ἦν δὲ φίλοις ἐρατός, δίκαιος, πρὸς πάντας ἀληθής, εὐσεβὲς ἐν ψυχῇ κῦδος ἔχ[ων] ἀρετῆς· v μύστης μὲν Σαμόθρᾳξι v Καβ̣ίρου δὶχ᾿ ἱερὸν φῶς, ἁ̣γνὰ δ᾿ Ἐλευσῖνος Δηοῦς μεγάθ̣ υ[μο]ς ἴδεν· v οὕνεκεν εὐγήρως [ὀκ]τ̣ ὼ δεκάδας λυκαβάντων [ἤ]ν̣ υσ᾿ ἀπημάντως Ἰσιόδωρος [ἄ]νηι· v He was loved by his friends, | a just man, truthful to all, | with reverent renown | for the virtue in his soul. | As an initiate, great-hearted, | he saw the doubly sacred light | of Kabiros in Samothrace |15 and the pure rites of Eleusinian Demeter. | Because of this, bearing his old age well, | Isidoros completed eighty years | without pain and trouble.

 7 Hemberg 1950, 73–81, followed by others; correction provided by Graham 2002, 249f. 8 Transl. H.L. Jones (Loeb), with modifications. 9 Cf. Burkert 1993, 181. 10 Karadima-Matsa/Dimitrova 2003; Dimitrova (2008, 83–90, no. 29), an improved edition.

  Kevin Clinton The duality of the Kabeiroi is, in addition, symbolized by their two piloi on Archaic coins of Samothrace,11 like the representations of Kabeiroi on Lemnian coins.12 Coins of Syros, too, of ca. 200 BC depict two naked gods leaning on their spears with a star over each of their heads, labeled ΚΑΒΕΙΡΩΝ ΘΕΩΝ ΣΥΡΙΩΝ.13 Hemberg remarked: “Hätte nicht die Münze von Syros durch ihre Beischrift die Götter als Kabiren bezeichnet, würden wir sie eher Dioskuren genannt haben…”.14 Augustan coins of Imbros show a caduceus flanked by two piloi surmounted by stars,15 mistakenly interpreted by numismatists as symbolizing Dioskouroi, even though for the Imbrians the Kabeiroi were among their major gods.16 On these four islands the iconography of the Kabeiroi was essentially identical to that of the Dioskouroi. Varro’s discussion (Ling. 5.57–58) of the Samothracian Great Gods also corroborates their duality, although his conception of the actual dei magni (as Earth and Sky) reflects a personal theology:17 Terra enim et Caelum, ut mothracum initia docent, sunt dei magni, et hi quos dixi multis nominibus, non quas Samothracia ante portas statuit duas uirilis species aeneas dei magni, neque ut uolgus putat, hi Samotraces dii, qui Castor et Pollux, sed hi mas et femina et hi quos augurum libri scriptos habent sic, divi potes, pro illo quod Samotraces θεοὶ δυνατοί.18 For Earth and Sky, as the mysteries of the Samothracians teach, are great gods, and the ones whom I have called by many names, are not the great gods whom Samothrace has set up before the city gates as two male figures of bronze, nor are those the Samothracian gods, as is commonly thought, who are Castor and Pollux; but these are male and female, and they are the ones whom the books of the augurs have written down as divi potes “potent deities,” for what the Samothracians call θεοὶ δυνατοί “powerful gods”.19

The prominent position of these two male images “before the city gates”, which Varro would have seen if he visited Samothrace in 67 BC when he was commanding fleets in the Aegean,20 suggests that they are the divine pair emblematic of Samothrace and its great sanctuary, the pair most well known to the Greek world—the two Kabeiroi,

 11 Schwabacher 1938. 12 Lemnos: Beschi 1998, 50f., Pl. VI 1–3. 13 LIMC VIII s.v. Megaloi Theoi, 560, no. 21; Savo 2004, 409f.; Cruccas 2014, 162. 14 Hemberg 1950, 182f. 15 Corpus Nummorum Imbros 3627–3633. 16 Correctly interpreted by Ruhl (2018, 27. 282) and Kroll (1993, 111). 17 Treatment of his personal theology would stray too far from the present investigation to warrant discussion here. 18 Text and translation (except ut volgus putat): Melo 2019, 286f. 19 R.G. Kent (Loeb) translated portas as “city-gates”, J. Collart (CUF) “ses portes”, i.e. Samothrace’s portes, not “doors”, as Lewis (1959, 80f. no. 175) mistakenly translated it, followed by Bremmer 2014, 27. 20 Rust. 2 praef. 6: in the military operation against piracy under Pompey.

Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods  

protectors of mariners in danger, often in the popular mind equated with the Dioskouroi (“as is commonly thought … the Samothracian gods who are Castor and Pollux”), “the twofold light of Kabiros” as in the epitaph of Isidoros. Ovid too requested from the Dioskouroi/Kabeiroi (and evidently received) their help at sea. While briefly sojourning on Samothrace, he wrote Tristia I.10, the account of his sea voyage from Cenchreae to Samothrace on a ship called Minerva. At Samothrace, instead of continuing his journey with the Minerva, he decided to take a boat to the mainland and proceed on foot through Thrace, while the Minerva sailed on to the Black Sea and finally to Tomis. At the end of the poem he addressed the gods “whom this island worships” as “Tyndaridae … fratres” (whose images flanked the gates of the city), in order to gain their help for both sea voyages (lines 45–50).21 He did not call upon them as Great Gods (Magni Di), or Θεοὶ Μεγάλοι as in all preserved Hellenistic and later inscriptions of Samothrace, or Σαμόθρᾳκες Θεοί (or simply Σαμόθρᾳκες) as in literature and filial cults in other cities. Instead, writing in the shadow of the sanctuary of the Θεοὶ Μεγάλοι, he addressed the central deities of Samothrace by the ancient name of the Dioskouroi, Τυνδαρίδαι.22 While often called upon to provide safety to sea voyagers, the efficacy of the Samothracian Gods was actually felt to be much broader,23 not limited to maritime dangers, as is made clear by the grave epigram of Isidoros (quoted supra) and by Diodorus 5.49.5–6: But the fame has travelled wide of how these gods appear to mankind and bring unexpected aid to those initiates of theirs who call upon them in the midst of perils. The claim is also made that men who have taken part in the Mysteria (τῆς τελετῆς) become both more pious and more just and better in every respect than they were before. And this is the reason, we are told, why the most famous both of the ancient heroes and of the demi-gods were eagerly desirous of taking part in the initiatory rite (τῆς τελετῆς); and in fact Jason and the Dioscuri, and Heracles and Orpheus as well, after their initiation (μυηθέντας) attained success in all the campaigns they undertook, because these gods appeared to them.24

In the 5th century, in Aristophanes’ Peace (276–286), Trygaios is worried about the imminent danger posed by Polemos, namely that he will use a pestle to “mash the cities with it” (266). Polemos sends Kydoimos to Athens to fetch one, but he returns  21 vos quoque, Tyndaridae, quos haec colit insula, fratres, |mite precor duplici numen adesse viae! |altera namque parat Symplegadas ire per artas, |scindere Bistonias altera puppis aquas. |vos facite ut ventos, loca cum diversa petamus, |illa suos habeat, nec minus illa suos. 22 The most publicized actions of the Samothracian Gods took place at sea, carried out by the two Kabeiroi/Dioskouroi, who were the focus in the cult at a climactic moment, as the gravestone of Isidoros suggests. Therefore, it was natural that the orgia could be called orgia of the (two) Kabeiroi. The Samothracians, at least eventually, preferred the appellation Θεοὶ Μεγάλοι, perhaps in part because it more accurately reflected the multiplicity of the gods of the Mysteria. 23 Hemberg (1950, 116f.) assumed they also promised a better lot in the afterlife. 24 Transl. C.H. Oldfather (Loeb) = Lewis 1959, 66 no. 142.

  Kevin Clinton empty-handed. He then sends him to fetch one from Sparta, at which Trygaios exclaims: Trygaios: Gentlemen, what’s to become of us? Now is our great test. And if by chance there’s anyone out there who’s been initiated at Samothrace, now’s a good time to pray that our fetcher sprains both ankles! (ἀλλ’ εἴ τις ὑμῶν ἐν Σαμοθρᾴκῃ τυγχάνει μεμυημένος, νῦν ἐστιν εὔξασθαι καλὸν ἀποστραφῆναι τοῦ μετιόντος τὼ πόδε.) Kyd: Oh me oh my! Oh me oh my again! Polemos: What is it? Don’t tell me you don’t have it! Kyd: I don’t because the Spartans have lost their pestle too! Pol: What do you mean, you rascal? Kyd: They lent it to some people to use at the Thracian front, and they lost it. Tryg: Well done, well done, O Dioscuri! Perhaps it may turn out well; courage, mortals!25 (εὖ γ’ εὖ γε ποιήσαντες, ὦ Διοσκόρω. ἴσως ἂν εὖ γένοιτο· θαρρεῖτ’, ὦ βροτοί).

Trygaios asks for anyone who has been initiated in Samothrace to pray for the danger from the fetcher’s trip to be averted, asking the Samothracian Gods, in good humor, to help with a journey by producing a negative outcome.26 Upon learning that the request was fulfilled, he exclaims: εὖ γ’, εὖ γε ποιήσαντες, ὦ Διοσκόρω. Instead of thanking the Samothracian Gods, as we expect, he congratulates, ironically, the Dioskouroi, the divine patrons of the Spartans. To the audience, though, it will have been immediately clear that he does indeed thank the Samothracian Gods, slyly taking advantage of their well-known identification with the Dioskouroi. Diodorus 4.43.1–2 illustrates the same process: one prays to the Samothracian Gods, and they appear as Dioskouroi: But there came on a great storm and the chieftains had given up hope of being saved, when Orpheus, they say, who was the only one on ship-board who had ever been initiated in the mysteries (τελετή) of the deities of Samothrace, offered to these deities the prayers for their salvation. And immediately the wind died down and two stars fell over the heads of the Dioscuri, and the whole company was amazed at the marvel which had taken place and concluded that they had been rescued from their perils by an act of providence of the gods. For this reason, the story of this reversal of fortune for the Argonauts having been handed down to succeeding generations, sailors when caught in storms always utter prayers to the gods of Samothrace (τοῖς Σαμόθρᾳξι) and attribute the appearance of the two stars to the epiphany of the Dioscuri.27

 25 Transl. J. Henderson (Loeb), except the last two lines, by Lewis 1959, 103 no. 226. The audience has been waiting to learn the answer to the presumed prayer to the Samothracian Gods (277–9), but the answer is now attributed in comic irony to the Dioskouroi. Taking ποιήσαντες sarcastically with the Spartans, as Henderson does, maintains the basic sense but loses the expected connection between prayer and divine response. 26 Faraone (2005) points out that the language of line 279 is that of a ritual binding spell. 27 Transl. C.H. Oldfather (Loeb).

Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods  

In both Diodorus and Aristophanes prayers are offered to the Gods of Samothrace (τοῖς Σαμόθρᾳξι in Diodorus; [the gods] ἐν Σαμοθράκῃ in Aristophanes), and the successful outcome is attributed to the appearance of the Dioskouroi. In two fragments of Middle and New Comedy characters invoke the help of the Samothracian gods to calm storms, real and metaphorical. In the Parasitos of Alexis (ca. 350 BC), a glutton is compared to a hurricane that required intervention by the Samothracian gods: the glutton’s host “utters the Samothracian (prayers), that he may stop his blowing, and that calm weather may come sometime again. That laddie is a hurricane to his friends.”28 By this time, the help that the Samothracian gods can provide to sailors has become such a commonplace that one just needed to pray τὰ Σαμοθρᾴκια, “the Samothracian (prayers)”. In a fragment of New Comedy by an unknown author the protagonist describes sailors being struck by a storm: “Another prays to the Samothracian (gods) to help the captain, he draws the sheets.”29 In the last quarter of the 4th century, the importance of initiation in Samothrace for safety at sea comes up in Theophrastus, Char. 25.2, “Cowardice”: “When a wave hits, he (the coward) asks whether anyone on board has not been initiated.”30 Among fifth-century testimonia, those of Herodotus, Stesimbrotus, and Aristophanes imply that the Samothracian Mysteria were already well known at Athens, Aristophanes taking advantage of the fact that the audience in the theater would know that prayers to the Samothracian Gods are fulfilled by deities who look like the Dioskouroi. Thus from the mid 5th century onwards it seems reasonable to assume that many Athenians who could afford to travel to Samothrace (or were passing by) were initiated there.

 Samothracian Engagement with Athens, Fifth to Fourth Century Along with the lively interest shown by Athenians in the Samothracian cult, Samothrace itself was developing over time an extraordinary relationship with Athens. Although most of the Greek population of the island originally came from Samos in the

 28 PCG 2.183 = Ath. 10.421d. Trans. C.B. Gulick (Loeb) with Arnott (1996, 546). αὐτὸν ὁ κεκληκὼς τὰ Σαμοθρᾴκι’ εὔχεται | λῆξαι πνέοντα καὶ γαληνίσαι ποτέ. | χειμὼν ὁ μειρακίσκος ἐστὶ τοῖς φίλοις. On the date, Arnott 1996, 542f. 29 Austin, CGFP 255.10–16 = PCG 8.1063. ἕτεροϲ τοῖϲ Ϲαμόθραιξιν εὔχετα[ι τῶι κυβερνή]τηι βοη[θεῖν], τοὺϲ πόδαϲ προϲέλκεται. 30 Trans. J. Rusten (Loeb). καὶ κλυδωνίου γενομένου ἐρωτᾶν, εἴ τις μὴ μεμύηται τῶν πλεόντων.

  Kevin Clinton early 6th century,31 the only preserved month names they adopted for the Samothracian calendar were not Samian but Athenian.32 It is impossible to determine exactly when this adoption occurred, but a plausible time (at the latest) would be the first couple of decades of the fifth century, when Athens, by inserting Athenian colonists on Lemnos and Imbros, increased its presence in the northeastern Aegean—or a bit later, after 478, when Samothrace joined the Delian League.33 In 425, when the Athenians demanded from their allies, including Samothrace, a drastically increased annual tribute, Samothracians were sufficiently conversant with Athenian affairs that they were able to draw upon the help of an outstanding Athenian orator—Antiphon—to compose a speech for their appeal to the assembly authorized to reduce levied tributes.34 The speech pled extenuating circumstances— the small size of the island, its mountainous terrain, and its largely infertile soil (Antiph. frgs. 49–50 Thalheim). Although we cannot know the full extent, throughout the Classical period, of the cultural ties between the two cities, the strength of those ties is powerfully illustrated in a remarkable monument that Samothrace placed at the entrance to its famous sanctuary, a monument that stands as a legacy of its admiration for Athens: a marble hexastyle prostyle Doric building, dedicated by Kings Philip III and Alexander IV (323 to 317). The most striking aspect of the building was its façade of Pentelic marble (Thasian was used for the sides and back). On the choice of Pentelic Professor Bonna Wescoat had this to say: No one would go to the trouble of transporting expensive material over long distances, not to mention employing two sets of masons [for Thasian and Pentelic respectively], without intending a dramatic statement commensurate with the effort. A façade was a lavish display, as Herodotos makes clear concerning the Alkmaeonid donation of a marble east façade for the Temple of Apollo at Delphi (Hdt. 5.62). Like that gift the difference in the stone on the Dedication must have been legible. A premier material, Pentelic marble was admired for its ability to take intricate detail. But more importantly, it carried powerful associations with Athens. It was the material of the Peri-

 31 Graham 2002. 32 The preserved names are Mounychion (Dimitrova 2008, 189–193 no. 104) and Maimakterion (Frazer 1960, 25–33 no. 5). Mounychion occurs only in Attica according to Trümpy (1997, 293); Maimakterion occurs in Attica and also in Keos and Siphnos; Maimakter in Ephesos, Phocaia, Mytilene, and Kyme (Trümpy 1997, 55. 97. 107. 118. 248). For the Samian months, see now IG XII 6, 182. According to our sources (FGrH 548 F 5a. 5b = Antiphon, frg. 49; Heraclides, Politeiai 21), the Samian colonists were expelled from Samos by tyrants and presumably had little reason for maintaining the traditional Samian months. 33 At the Battle of Salamis, the presence of a Samothracian ship among the Ionian naval contingent (Hdt. 8.90; cf. Graham 2002, 234) reflects Persian control of the island at that time, but that should not have hindered them from adopting the Athenian system of months then or earlier. 34 IG I3 71, its effect on Samothrace discussed by Meiggs 1972, 240f. 327.

Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods  

klean city. The few monuments outside Attica built in Pentelic marble are chiefly Athenian dedications. Philip III and Alexander’s pavilion on Samothrace is not, but by emulating Athenian forms in Attic material, the building stakes a claim to the Athenian legacy.35

In the religious sphere, the Samothracians were so deeply taken by the Eleusinian Mysteria that they named stages of their own Mysteria after the Eleusinian: first-time initiates were called μύσται, initiates at the next stage ἐπόπται.36 The Eleusinian and the Samothracian were the only Greek mystery cults, on present evidence, that had a stage of initiation called epopteia.37 The Eleusinian term for announcing the festival, πρόρρησις μυστηρίων also occurs in Samothrace, attested in Latin, praefatio sacrorum.38 Certain other Eleusinian features seem to recur at Samothrace. Light played a major role as at Eleusis, and is attested for Samothrace by the grave epigram of Isidoros (supra, p. 19).39 The Eleusinian Search for Kore (Lactant. Div. Inst. 23) reappears, it seems, in a Search for Harmonia, after she was abducted by Cadmos, according to Ephorus: “And even now they seek her in their festivals (ἑορταῖς).”40 The multiplicity of festivals can be explained by the fact that the Samothracian Mysteria, like the Eleusinian, functioned as a festival (ἑορτή), but they differed from the Eleusinian in being held many times during the year.41 Although this ritual Search for Harmonia, conducted during the many performances of the Mysteria, parallels the Search for  35 Wescoat 2017, 180f. She goes on to point out Macedonian interest in a Pentelic façade, “serving as an emphatic visual antidote to the Athenian-based claims of Demosthenes and others against the ‘Greekness’ of the Macedonians”. An additional connection with Athens was discovered in sealed contexts on the floor of the Dedication’s predecessor, the Fieldstone Building, and in a foundation trench of the Dedication: very early examples of Attic figurines in the Tanagra style, this group nicknamed “Green Girls”; Dillon 2017, 396. 36 The stage of μύσται was in use when Herodotus was initiated; we do not know when the term ἐπόπται began to be used, but the simplest assumption is that it happened when the pre-Greek cult metamorphosed into Mysteria. 37 Even the Mysteria at Andania, which Pausanias (4.33.5) regarded as “second only to the Eleusinian in sanctity” and derived from Eleusis, did not have a stage called epopteia (Paus. 4.1.5–9, 4.14.1, 4.15.7, 4.26.6–8); it is not mentioned in the lengthy sacred law of Andania; updated text by Gawlinski 2012. 38 Livy 45.5.4 = Lewis 1959, 48 no. 116: et, cum omnis praefatio sacrorum eos, quibus non sint purae manus, sacris arceat, vos penetralia vestra contaminari cruento latronis corpore sinetis? Eleusinian Prorrhesis: Schol. Ar. Ran. 369: Παρὰ τὴν τοῦ ἱεροφάντου καὶ δᾳδούχου πρόρρησιν τὴν ἐν τῇ ποικίλῃ στοᾷ. Isoc. Paneg. 157: Εὐμολπίδαι δὲ καὶ Κήρυκες ἐν τῇ τελετῇ τῶν μυστηρίων … καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις βαρβάροις εἴργεσθαι τῶν ἱερῶν ὥσπερ τοῖς ἀνδροφόνοις προαγορεύουσιν. Cf. Clinton 1974, 46. 39 Of course it is possible that light played a role already in the pre-Greek cult. 40 FGrH 70 F 120 = Lewis 1959, 35 no. 75: Ἔφορος δὲ Ἠλέκτρας τῆς Ἄτλαντος αὐτὴν εἶναι λέγει, Κάδμου δὲ παραπλέοντος τὴν Σαμοθράικην ἁρπάσαι αὐτήν· τὴν δὲ εἰς τιμὴν τῆς μητρὸς ὀνομάσαι τὰς Ἠλέκτρας πύλας. καὶ νῦν ἔτι ἐν τῆι Σαμοθράικηι ζητοῦσιν αὐτὴν ἐν ταῖς ἑορταῖς. For heorte used for the Eleusinian Mysteria: IEleusis 52.A.III.36 and (most probably) 13.5. 41 For the most recent compilation of dates, Dimitrova 2008, 245f.

  Kevin Clinton Kore at Eleusis, it may have originated locally in a feature of the pre-Greek cult. Hellenization of the pre-Greek cult through adoption of Eleusinian features may well have been motivated in part by a desire to attract especially Athenians but also other Greeks. In addition, the Eleusinian Mysteria required a preliminary initiation, called myesis, a ritual of purification, which is well attested.42 It seems quite unlikely that the Samothracians would have adopted two stages of the Eleusinian Mysteria without adopting the preliminary stage of myesis, which qualified a candidate to participate in the first main stage of the Mysteria. Inscriptions, set up evidently at boundaries of the Samothracian sanctuary,43 prohibiting the ἀμύητον from entering, imply, quite precisely, that preliminary myesis was obligatory for a candidate to be admitted to the main initiation. As I wrote several years ago, “What sense, then, does it make to say that one cannot enter the sanctuary if one is not already initiated? The whole purpose of entering the sanctuary was to become initiated. The solution, therefore, would seem to be that the term ‘uninitiated,’ ἀμύητος, meant that the candidate had not taken part in some rite that qualified him or her for initiation.”44 This rite should be the preliminary initiation of μύησις, involving purification.45 Having undergone preliminary μύησις, the candidate has already begun the process of initiation; he is μυούμενος, no longer ἀμύητος. At Athens this stage could take place either in a court (αὐλή) at the sanctuary in Eleusis or in the City Eleusinion.46 Unlike the situation at Athens, where the Eleusinian sanctuary was situated ca. 21 kilometers from the center of the city (Asty), in Samothrace there was no significant separation between sanctuary and city, hence no need for more than a single venue for preliminary myesis, which presumably took place somewhere in close proximity to the sanctuary. Nearly eighty years ago, Arthur D. Nock surmised that the Korybantes’ association with the Mysteria at Samothrace was relevant to a circular structure within an apparently sacred building recently excavated in the sanctuary, and proposed that  42 Clinton 2008; 1992, 137f.; 2003, 59f. The verb μυεῖν can pertain to preliminary initiation or, especially in the Roman period, to initiation in the first main stage, that of the μύσται, the precise meaning depending on the context (Clinton 2008, 33f.). 43 1) ἀμύητον | μὴ εἰσιέναι | εἰς τὸ ἱερόν (Fraser 1960, 117f. no. 62.2) deorum sacra | qui non accepe|runt non intrant. | ἀμύητον | μὴ εἰσιέναι (Frazer 1960, 118–121 no. 63). On no. 1 see now Clinton (2017, 336), pointing out that this inscription cannot be definitively tied to the building called “Hieron” (named after the inscription). Pace Bremmer (2014, 30), there is no evidence that it was “part of the walls of that building”. 44 Clinton 2008, 17. 45 On the purificatory aspect of the rite, Clinton (2003, 59f.; 2008, 33), with citation of previous studies. 46 Clinton 2008, 27–31; IEleusis 19.43–46: [τ]ὸς μύστας τὸς Ἐλε[υσῖνι μυο|μ]έ̣νος ἐν τε̑ι αὐλε̑ι [ἐντὸς το̑ h|ι]ερο̑, τὸς δὲ ἐν ἄστει [μυομένο|ς] ἐν το̑ι Ἐλευσινίοι. The restoration ἐν τε̑ι αὐλε̑ι [ἐκτὸς το̑ h|ι]ερο̑ seems more likely.

Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods  

the preliminary myesis at Samothrace might be the Korybantic ritual of θρόνωσις (“enthronement”), described by Plato (Euthydemos 277d–e) as preliminary to initiation:47 Ἔτι δὴ ἐπὶ τὸ τρίτον καταβαλῶν ὥσπερ πάλαισμα ὥρμα ὁ Εὐθύδημος τὸν νεανίσκον· καὶ ἐγὼ γνοὺς βαπτιζόμενον τὸ μειράκιον, βουλόμενος ἀναπαῦσαι αὐτό, μὴ ἡμῖν ἀποδειλιάσειε, παραμυθούμενος εἶπον· Ὦ Κλεινία, μὴ θαύμαζε εἴ σοι φαίνονται ἀήθεις οἱ λόγοι. ἴσως γὰρ οὐκ αἰσθάνῃ οἷον ποιεῖτον τὼ ξένω περὶ σέ· ποιεῖτον δὲ ταὐτὸν ὅπερ οἱ ἐν τῇ τελετῇ τῶν Κορυβάντων, ὅταν τὴν θρόνωσιν ποιῶσιν περὶ τοῦτον ὃν ἂν μέλλωσι τελεῖν. καὶ γὰρ ἐκεῖ χορεία τίς ἐστι καὶ παιδιά, εἰ ἄρα καὶ τετέλεσαι· καὶ νῦν τούτω οὐδὲν ἄλλο ἢ χορεύετον περὶ σὲ καὶ οἷον ὀρχεῖσθον παίζοντε, ὡς μετὰ τοῦτο τελοῦντε. νῦν οὖν νόμισον τὰ πρῶτα τῶν ἱερῶν ἀκούειν τῶν σοφιστικῶν. Now as Euthydemos was starting to go for the third throw-down of the young man as in wrestling, and I, recognizing that the youth was going under water and wishing to give him a breather, lest he lose heart on us, said, “Kleinias, do not be surprised if their arguments seem strange to you. Perhaps you do not perceive what sort of thing the two guests are doing around you. They are doing the same thing that those at the telete of the Korybantes do when they perform the thronosis around the person whom they are going to initiate. For indeed there is dancing and entertainment there (i.e. in the thronosis), as you know if in fact you too have been initiated. And now these two are just performing a choral dance about you and, as it were, dancing playfully in order to initiate you afterwards. So reckon that now you have been hearing the preliminaries (τὰ πρῶτα) of the Sophistic Rites.”48

 The Preliminary Initiation at Samothrace The circular structure where Nock surmised that the Korybantes performed their encircling dance was revealed by later excavation not to be a wooden platform but the remains of a modern limekiln,49 and further investigation concluded that the building was most likely not the sacred building originally imagined.50 In order to evaluate whether Plato’s Korybantic thronosis might be a ritual serving the religious purpose of the Mysteria, it is essential, first, to ascertain what can be learned about the nature of this ritual from its use as metaphor in the Euthydemus. Other than Plato’s use of it as a metaphor, hardly anything is known about it.51

 47 Nock 1941. 48 Cf. the translation by Erler (2017, 19. 136f.), who translates “sophistische Mysterien”; Hawtrey (1981, 68) refers to them as “sophistic mysteries”. 49 Remains of a lime kiln according to excavation director J.R. McCredie; Burkert 1993, 186; Clinton 2003, 73 n. 41; Wescoat 2017, 61 n. 66. 50 Clinton 2008, 26 n. 3; 2017, 325. 51 An apparent exception, Dio Chrysostom 12.33–34, is believed to be derived from Plato; see discussion infra, pp. 36f. Pretini (1999, 293) points out the complete lack of information in ancient authors about the position of thronosis in the ritual of the Korybantes.

  Kevin Clinton Plato describes the ritual as (part of) the τελετὴ τῶν Κορυβάντων, preliminary to initiation proper (ὅταν τὴν θρόνωσιν ποιῶσιν περὶ τοῦτον ὃν ἂν μέλλωσι τελεῖν). (In this formal respect it is similar to the Eleusinian preliminary μύησις, itself a τελετή, leading to the τελετή of the first stage, that of the μύσται.)52 The two sophists perform, as it were, a choral dance around the initiand prior to his initiation (ὡς μετὰ τοῦτο τελοῦντε). Modern discussion of this passage on thronosis has often overlooked the fact that it was a preliminary ritual, and that Plato does not disclose the deities involved in the main initiation;53 therefore it would be hazardous to assume they were identical to those in the preliminary stage. If the entire ritual, preliminary and main, were the telete of the Korybantes, it would not have been necessary to specify that it was the preliminary ritual that was performed by the Korybantes; Plato need only have stated “ἐν τῇ τελετῇ τῶν Κορυβάντων” or “ἐν τοῖς ἱεροῖς τῶν Κορυβάντων” without mentioning a preliminary initiation; instead, he goes to some length to emphasize that it preceded the main initiation, by stating that fact twice (περὶ τοῦτον ὃν ἂν μέλλωσι τελεῖν/ὡς μετὰ τοῦτο τελοῦντε), thus differentiating the preliminary from the main ritual, leaving no doubt in his readers’ minds that these were distinct rituals. In fact, the metaphor goes on to mention (figuratively) the name of the entire τελετή, both preliminary and main: τὰ ἱερὰ τὰ σοφιστικά. If the metaphor parallels reality, as it is surely meant to do, the main initiation of τὰ ἱερὰ τὰ σοφιστικά should be of a different character from the preliminary one. In the metaphor, dancing and entertainment take up the first part; then, it is implied, serious revelation of sophistic practice (τὰ σοφιστικά) will begin; thus, in the actual cult, the thronosis ought to be followed not by ecstatic dancing (of which Plato disapproved, infra, n. 64) but by revelation. Plato’s text has been taken to indicate that this rite was well known to Athenians, and there is no reason to doubt it. But the question of where it took place, in Athens or elsewhere, is not immediately clear. It was most probably not a state cult; for there is no mention of Korybantes in the very extensive evidence that we have pertaining to state cults in Athens, whereas some testimonia have been understood to imply that Korybantic rites were administered privately.54 Linforth and other scholars therefore

 52 Cf. Clinton 2003, 58–60. At Clinton (2003, 72 n. 32) the statement that the preliminary myesis was not a telete is not accurate. Although the ancient testimonia distinguish it, as purification, from the main Eleusinian telete, it does fit Plato’s use of the term telete (Symp. 202c–203a; Clinton 2003, 53f.). 53 In his reconstruction of Korybantic initiation in Plato, Linforth (1946, 156), followed largely by Schöpsdau (2003, 510f.), takes references from various contexts in Plato and puts them together to reconstruct an entire ritual. He places thronosis “at some point” before “the “telete proper, in which, we may suppose, the candidate threw himself into the dance with the rest and yielded to the intoxication of the rhythm”. This reconstruction assumes thronosis was part of every Korybantic initiation, an assumption not supported by evidence (cf. infra, pp. 30f.), including Pl. Euthyd. 277d–e. Pretini (1999, 290f.) notes the difficulties in attempting to produce from Plato’s references a coherent and accurate reconstruction. 54 On a private cult in Thessalonica, see Voutiras 1996.

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assumed that Plato had a private cult in mind.55 However, the assumption that Plato was referring to a private cult is difficult to maintain in light of the fact that he disdained private cults (ἰδιωτικά) and favored public ones (δημόσια). In Laws 910b–c he prescribed: Shrines of the gods no one must possess in a private house (θεῶν ἐν ἰδίαις οἰκίαις ἱερά); and if anyone is proved to possess and worship at any shrine other than the public shrines (κεκτημένον ἕτερα καὶ ὀργιάζοντα πλὴν τὰ δημόσια)—be the possessor man or woman—and if he is guilty of no serious act of impiety, he that notices the fact shall inform the Law-wardens, and they shall give orders for the private shrines to be removed to the public ones (εἰς τὰ δημόσια ἀποφέρειν ἱερὰ τὰ ἴδια), and if the owner disobeys the order, they shall punish him until he removes them.56

In the case of the telete of the Korybantes, Socrates implies that it was perfectly natural for a member of an aristocratic Athenian family, such as Kleinias, Alcibiades’ cousin, to have participated in such a cult; and Socrates’ full knowledge of it suggests that he too experienced it.57 We can also infer that it was not a secret rite, since Plato had no qualms about describing its main elements. From what can be gathered so far from Plato, it is clear that he was most likely referring to a public rite in a public cult. Precisely what sort of an initiation it was preliminary to, we are not told, except that, as noted above, the metaphorical name of the cult, Sophistic Rites, implies the main initiation was of a different sort from the preliminary one. Socrates explains how in this preliminary rite (τὰ πρῶτα τῶν ἱερῶν τῶν σοφιστικῶν) the two foreigners have been playing with Kleinias, by taking advantage of his ignorance of the correct use of words. Then, in lieu of the strangers’ Sophistic Rites, which in the main initiation would have followed along the same lines as the preliminary one and revealed to Kleinias, in more depth, methods of sophistic argumentation, Socrates, now interrupting this progression, begins his own protreptic (278e), and assumes control, as guide in a proper search for truth. Leading up to the metaphor of the τελετὴ τῶν Κορυβάντων, the two preceding metaphors deployed by Socrates—from wrestling and drowning—depict a person, in the first image, about to succumb to his opponent and, in the second, underwater, about to lose consciousness. Following these images of decreasing self-control, the next image, of an initiand approaching the end of a τελετὴ τῶν Κορυβάντων, ought to illustrate that Kleinias’ psychic situation is so dire that it necessitates Socrates’ immediate intervention. What sort of an actual preliminary initiation would correspond to such a situation?

 55 Linforth 1946, 158; so also Parker 2005, 373; Graf 2010, 308; Bremmer 2014, 48f. 56 Transl. R.G. Bury (Loeb), with minor modification. See also Pl. Leg. 908d: among the impious are those who “plot with their private teletai,” τελεταῖς δὲ ἰδίαις ἐπιβεβουλευκότες. 57 Dodds 1951, 99 n. 104: “It seems to me that the appeal to the experience of the τετελεσμένος is hardly natural save on the lips of one who is τετελεσμένος himself.” Cf. Linforth 1946, 124f. 161f.

  Kevin Clinton The only scholar (to my knowledge) to address substantively the question of a preliminary initiation of Korybantes is Nock,58 who noted the inclusion of washing in the Korybantic ritual in IErythrai 206, a fourth-century sacred law on the sale of priesthoods of the Korybantes. However, this law implies that washing took place, from nearly all indications in the text, after the initiation: the rites are listed in the order τελεῖν, κρητηρίζειν, λούειν (lines 1–10), which is corroborated by SEG XLVII 1628, an additional fragment of this law, in which those who have undergone the rituals are called τελεσθέντες, κρητηρισθέντες, λουθέντες (lines 19–22). Thus there were three related rituals: initiation, drinking and/or pouring libations from a krater, and washing.59 There is no mention of a preliminary rite or thronosis, even though Plato’s description implies that this rite was public (supra, p. 29). In any case, general Korybantic ritual, as at Erythrai, could involve purification, and Nock opined that purification was the right sort of ritual to have been a preliminary one in Samothrace.60 In Classical authors the verb κορυβαντίζειν occurs only in Aristophanes, Wasps 119–120, when Xanthias describes Bdelykleon’s failed attempt to Korybantize his father, in the hope of making him forget about his mania for serving as a juror: After this he was korybantizing (him), but he, rushing off with tambourine and all (μετὰ τοῦτ’ ἐκορυβάντιζ’, ὁ δ’ αὐτῷ τυμπάνῳ), burst into the New Court and started serving as juror. As he was not succeeding with these teletai, he took his father to Aegina.

Three inferences worthy of note can be drawn from this comic episode of κορυβαντίζειν: 1) no mention of a preliminary ritual, just as in the leges sacrae of Erythrae;61 2)  58 Nock 1941, 579. 59 Graf (2010, 303f.) presents the order as τελεῖν, λούειν, κρητηρίζειν, which occurs once in this document (SEG XLVII 1628.12–13), otherwise (twice) λούειν is last. Although this position for λούειν runs counter to many cults in which cleansing comes first, late cleansing in κορυβαντίζειν may have served an appropriate function, as in the (apparently) Sabazian cult briefly described by Demosthenes, Or. 18, 259: καθαίρων τοὺς τελουμένους καὶ ἀπομάττων τῷ πηλῷ καὶ τοῖς πιτύροις comes after κρητηρίζων. In IErythrai 206.8–9 the restoration of Dignas (2002, 29), [βουλομέν]ους instead of [τελευμέν]ους, seems to fit the sense better, as the kreterismos and loutron can be understood to be optional. In a later (fragmentary) sacred law from Erythrae (IG XII.6.2 1197) concerning apparently the same rites, the verbs κορυβαντίζειν and κρητηρίζειν occur in sequence (lines 10–11), followed by a lacuna (in which λούειν could have occurred), thus the same sequence as in IErythrai 206, except that for the first ritual, κορυβαντίζειν is used instead of τελεῖν (the initiates are called κορυβαντιζόμενοι, κορυβαντισθέντες, or κεκορυβαντισμένοι); the verb τελεῖν in this document seems to be used for all three processes (lines 4–6). 60 Nock 1941, 579: “The Corybantic ritual … belongs to the fairly extensive category of rituals of purification—proceedings which were, so to speak, medical, as well as sacramental.” 61 Graf (2010, 308) notes the absence of any mention in the epigraphic record of such a ritual: “If it was performed at Erythrae at all, it might hide under the verb τελεῖν, ‘to initiate’ that can comprise a complex set of rites which the text has no need to describe; but we cannot be certain.” The epigraphic record of the Eleusinian Mysteria, on the other hand, contains several references to the preliminary initiation (supra, n. 42).

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the ritual aimed at such manic enthusiasm (Philokleon still clutching his tambourine) that it was hoped he would forget about what most interested him; and 3) Bdelykleon attempts to perform κορυβαντίζειν by himself (no hint is given that the verb could be causative), which is perhaps part of the joke about its failure. This episode indicates that Korybantic initiation was well known (cf. Eur. Bacch. 120–134), but it does not provide authoritative evidence for the existence of private cults of this sort in Athens. The relatively frequent use by Plato of Korybantic terminology would seem to offer the best hope for learning details of the ritual if it was current at Athens. However, his references to the ritual do not mention the term used elsewhere for it, namely κορυβαντισμός or κορυβαντίζειν (as in the sacred laws of Erythrai, supra p. 30).62 Except for the preliminary τελετὴ τῶν Κορυβάντων and the ἰάματα τῶν Κορυβάντων (Leg. 790–791), he only uses forms of κορυβαντιᾶν, “to be in a state of manic (Korybantic) enthusiasm”, in which the person is possessed (κατεχόμενος) by a god (ἔνθεος) and out of his mind (ἔκφρων). In Ion 533c–534a κορυβαντιᾶν (equivalent to βακχεύειν) is used figuratively to characterize the creative power of epic and melic poets: πάντες γὰρ οἵ τε τῶν ἐπῶν ποιηταὶ οἱ ἀγαθοὶ οὐκ ἐκ τέχνης ἀλλ’ ἔνθεοι ὄντες καὶ κατεχόμενοι πάντα ταῦτα τὰ καλὰ λέγουσι ποιήματα, καὶ οἱ μελοποιοὶ οἱ ἀγαθοὶ ὡσαύτως, ὥσπερ οἱ κορυβαντιῶντες οὐκ ἔμφρονες ὄντες ὀρχοῦνται, οὕτω καὶ οἱ μελοποιοὶ οὐκ ἔμφρονες ὄντες τὰ καλὰ μέλη ταῦτα ποιοῦσιν, ἀλλ’ ἐπειδὰν ἐμβῶσιν εἰς τὴν ἁρμονίαν καὶ εἰς τὸν ῥυθμόν, βακχεύουσι καὶ κατεχόμενοι, ὥσπερ αἱ βάκχαι ἀρύονται ἐκ τῶν ποταμῶν μέλι καὶ γάλα κατεχόμεναι, ἔμφρονες δὲ οὖσαι οὔ, καὶ τῶν μελοποιῶν ἡ ψυχὴ τοῦτο ἐργάζεται, ὅπερ αὐτοὶ λέγουσι.

The passage makes clear that participants dancing in the Korybantic cult attained an extraordinary state of enthusiasm; they were possessed, no longer in control of their minds, κορυβαντιῶντες—a state of extreme enthusiasm with which great poets are endowed. In Phaedrus 228b, Socrates refers to himself as the συγκορυβαντιῶν of Phaedrus, in sharing a wildly enthusiastic passion for rhetoric.63 In these dialogs κορυβαντιᾶν is used figuratively to illustrate the passion that drives poetic creativity and the passion of admirers of great rhetoric to listen to extraordinary speeches. In each case their enthusiasm contributes to creativity or passionate appreciation, but of course these personal enthusiasms were not attained by taking part in Korybantic rites, and Plato offers no words of advocacy for such participation. In fact, the type of dancing alluded to in Ion, namely Bacchic (in Plato’s description equivalent to

 62 Pretini (1999, 290) also notes Plato’s lack of interest in describing Korybantic or similar rites: “In nessuna delle pagine che abbiamo letto, infatti, l’intento principale di Platone è descrivere questi riti o altri cerimonie affine.” 63 ἀπαντήσας δὲ τῷ νοσοῦντι περὶ λόγων ἀκοήν, ἰδὼν μέν, ἰδών, ἥσθη ὅτι ἕξοι τὸν συγκορυβαντιῶντα.

  Kevin Clinton Korybantic), he regarded as “unbefitting our citizens”,64 and so it is quite understandable that he would not advocate for this well-known Korybantic initiation involving frenzied (Bacchic) dancing. (Nor, as we have seen seen [supra, p. 29], would he recommend it if it were a private cult). In Symposium 215c–e Plato uses κορυβαντιᾶν in similar fashion, to portray the effect that Socrates has on Alcibiades and others: But when someone hears you or your words being spoken by another, even if a rather poor speaker, whether a woman, man, or boy hears him, we are stunned and become possessed… When I hear him, far more than those possessed by Korybantic frenzy (πολύ μοι μᾶλλον ἢ τῶν κορυβαντιώντων) my heart pounds and tears pour forth at the sound of his words. And I see many others experiencing the same thing.

Here too, Plato gives no details of the process of Korybantic initiation. In comparing Socrates’ power of entrancement to that of Marsyas, Alcibiades points out that its effect is greater on him than what κορυβαντιῶντες experience. Here Plato uses the image of κορυβαντιῶντες in a figurative way, to demonstrate the power of Socrates’ charm. Nothing in what he says suggests that he is advocating that his audience be initiated so that they can experience their hearts pounding and their tears flowing. He does of course suggest that to be under the spell of a person like Socrates would be an extraordinary experience. About the process of Korybantic initiation, we learn from the Symposium only that it involved music of the aulos; from the Ion, Bacchic/ Korybantic dancing.65  64 Leg. 815c–d, regarding Bacchic dancing as “questionable”: “All the dancing that is of a Bacchic kind ... when performing certain rites of expiation and initiation (περικαθαρμούς τε καὶ τελετάς τινας ἀποτελούντων),—all this class of dancing cannot easily be defined either as pacific or as warlike, or as of any one distinct kind. The most correct way of defining it seems to me to be this—to separate it off both from pacific and from warlike dancing, and to pronounce that this kind of dancing is unfitted for our citizens (οὐκ ἔστι πολιτικὸν τοῦτο τῆς ὀρχήσεως τὸ γένος); and having thus disposed of it and dismissed it, we will now return to the warlike and pacific kinds which do beyond question belong to us”, transl. R.G. Bury (Loeb). Linforth (1946, 161) translates οὐκ ἔστι πολιτικόν as “not a matter of civic interest”, implying that Plato left the question as to the propriety of this type of dancing “unsettled”. He rejects the translation of England (1921, 302), “not fit for a civilized community”, claiming “there is no warrant for giving the adjective this turn of condemnation.” However, cf. Bury’s translation supra; LSJ s.v. πολιτικός, I.2 “befitting a citizen”. In support of his argument Linforth points out that here “nothing is said about Corybantic rites”, but this is irrelevant, since Plato equates orgiastic Korybantic rites with Bacchic ones as in Ion (supra). 65 In Crito 54d, Socrates says that he hears the voices of the laws, “just as those in Korybantic frenzy (οἱ κορυβαντιῶντες) believe they are hearing the flutes, and the sound of these arguments rings in my head and makes me unable to hear any other ones.” Here too, Plato is employing a metaphor to illustrate Socrates’ devotion to the laws; he is not suggesting that imagining to hear the sound of auloi while in a state of frenzy is necessarily a desirable state. Contra, Linforth (1946, 162) infers that this, as in all other instances of Plato’s description of the activities of those in the state of κορυβαντιᾶν, “impl[ies] something admirable in [the rites].”

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In Euthydemus, however, Kleinias does not appear to exhibit signs of incipient Korybantic mania as he experiences the “thronosis,” nor does it seem likely that his final state of mind would have been manic enthusiasm if Socrates had not intervened and allowed the Sophistic Rites to proceed unchecked. Metaphorically, after the preceding metaphors from wrestling and drowning, the thronosis should represent a further stage toward loss of self-control—coming completely under the control of the two “Korybantes” (supra, p. 29). But this does not resemble the result of the common Korybantic ritual as described by Plato in the Ion, Phaedrus, and Symposium—manic enthusiasm.

. The Cures of the Korybantes A passage in the Laws shows that certain practices associated with Korybantes aimed not at manic enthusiasm but at satisfying therapeutic needs. Laws 790c–791b describes how mothers and nurses lull sleepless infants to sleep by rocking them and singing lullabies, and the women who perform the cures of the Korybantes (αἱ περὶ τὰ τῶν Κορυβάντων ἰάματα τελοῦσαι) use the same technique on victims of Bacchic frenzy: The evidence necessarily derives also from the fact that from experience nurses of small children and the women who officiate in the cures of the Korybantes (αἵ τε τροφοὶ τῶν σμικρῶν καὶ αἱ περὶ τὰ τῶν Κορυβάντων ἰάματα τελοῦσαι)66 have adopted and recognized that it is useful; for whenever mothers wish to put to sleep those children who are having difficulty going to sleep, they do not apply quiet but the opposite, motion, constantly rocking them in their arms, and not silence but a lullaby and in this way simply charm the children, just as (those who charm) those affected by Bacchic frenzy, by employing this cure of motion with dancing and music (τινα μελῳδίαν, καὶ ἀτεχνῶς οἷον καταυλοῦσι τῶν παιδίων, καθαπερεὶ τῶν ἐκφρόνων βακχείων, ἰάσει ταύτῃ τῇ τῆς κινήσεως ἅμα χορείᾳ καὶ μούσῃ χρώμεναι).67 Kl: So what, Stranger, is the principal cause of this? Ath: It is not difficult to recognize. Kl: How so? Ath: Both these afflictions involve being frightened, and frights occur because of a poor mental condition. So whenever one applies externally a shaking motion (σεισμόν) to such afflictions, the external motion being applied overpowers the internally fearful and manic motion, and having taken control, clearly brings about a calmness and a rest from pounding of the heart that became so disturbing for each group (τῆς περὶ τὰ τῆς καρδίας χαλεπῆς γενομένης ἑκάστων πηδήσεως)—a matter altogether desirable: it causes some to attain sleep, but to others, who are passionately excited, it brings about, in place of manic dispositions, sane states of mind (ἀντὶ

 66 On the sense and translation of αἱ περὶ τὰ τῶν Κορυβάντων ἰάματα τελοῦσαι see Linforth 1946, 130f. 67 The text is that of R.G. Bury (Loeb) and A. Diès (CUF).

  Kevin Clinton μανικῶν ἡμῖν διαθέσεων ἕξεις ἔμφρονας ἔχειν), by dancing to the sound of the aulos, with the help of gods to whom each group offers propitious sacrifice.68

At first this discourse focuses on two specific groups that can benefit from motion therapy, sleepless infants and frenzied adults; the former can be cured by rocking and lullabies, the latter by τὰ τῶν Κορυβάντων ἰάματα (obviously not meant for infants) involving dancing and music. It then describes the cause of these maladies—a frightened state of mind—and its cure. But at this point the therapeutic process is described as applicable to all whose minds are beset by fright (but presumably not infants, judging by the sacrificial ritual, not likely to be performed by mothers rocking and singing their children to sleep), divided in two groups (implied by the plural ἑκάστων): 1) some (τοὺς μέν) the external motion puts to sleep (those afflicted by sleeplessness), and others in a hyperexcited state (τοὺς δ’ ἐγρηγορότας) it brings to a sound state of mind, by dancing to the music of the aulos, with the help of the gods to whom each group (ἕκαστοι) offers propitious sacrifice. Thus there are two groups suffering from a frightened state of mind, one group unable to sleep, the other in a manic state, but through (charming) music and dance both groups are cured. There is no reason to assume that the same type of music and dance was used for each group. That a single therapy should suffice for people suffering from diverse psychological conditions makes little sense, and Plato signaled his awareness of this by beginning with two disparate groups and their distinct therapies (infants and victims of Bacchic frenzy). Unlike Korybantic initiation (κορυβαντίζεσθαι), which Plato never mentions, he not only mentions τὰ τῶν Κορυβάντων ἰάματα (which he does not call a telete) but commends them for their therapeutic benefits. After referring to them as an example of a successful cure, he goes on to extract from them not an initiation that leads to κορυβαντιᾶν, a state of frenzy, but a general outline of a therapy, accompanied by sacrifice to appropriate gods, to cure a person of a nervous mental state.69 In Euthydemus, as we have seen (supra, p. 29) he also gives implicit approval to the preliminary “telete of the Korybantes”; but that preliminary rite is, again, not the same as κορυβαντίζεσθαι, “to undergo korybantic initiation”, which is a main initiation (as the sacred laws of Erythrae witness, supra, p. 30), nor is it a private telete (supra, p.

 68 τοὺς μὲν ὕπνου λαγχάνειν ποιεῖ, τοὺς δ’ ἐγρηγορότας ὀρχουμένους τε καὶ αὐλουμένους, μετὰ θεῶν οἷς ἂν καλλιεροῦντες ἕκαστοι θύωσι, κατηργάσατο ἀντὶ μανικῶν ἡμῖν διαθέσεων ἕξεις ἔμφρονας ἔχειν. 69 It is probably not correct to refer to this therapy as τὰ τῶν Κορυβάντων ἰάματα, since Plato does not give it a name or associate it with specific divinities. He refers earlier to τὰ τῶν Κορυβάντων ἰάματα, administered by certain women, as a specific example of a useful therapy, from which he derives a medical procedure, preceded by an appeal to appropriate gods.

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29); and there is no indication that it included ecstatic dancing, consistent with Plato’s strong disapproval of that type of dancing (supra, n. 64).70 In Euthydemus, as Socrates notices that Euthydemos has brought Kleinias to the brink of desperation, he suddenly intervenes, explaining to the young man that he is undergoing a process similar to thronosis. How, then (to return to the question posed earlier [supra, p. 29]), does a preliminary initiation by thronosis involve losing psychic self-control? In the metaphor of the “telete of the Korybantes”, the two strangers are bringing to completion the preliminary initiation into the Sophistic Rites (τὰ πρῶτα τῶν ἱερῶν τῶν σοφιστικῶν). In order for Kleinias, who is verging on complete despair (277d, μὴ ἡμῖν ἀποδειλιάσειε), to receive these Rites, he needs to rid his mind of the confusion and despair that has been brought about in large part by his former mode of thinking, and so be ready to embrace wholeheartedly the supposedly brilliant techniques to be shown in the next stage of the Sophistic Rites. A ritual suited to this purpose would be one similar to the Korybantic ἰάματα of employing music and dance to calm or put to sleep persons in a frightened state, as in Laws 790c–791b.71 (Possibly relevant is Pliny’s reference to “… hares and many human beings, who the Greeks say are possessed by the Korybantes (κορυβαντιᾶν) sleep with their eyes open”, interpreted by Dodds as indicating “a kind of trance” or in the words of Rohde “a condition related to hypnosis”).72 At any rate, a calm or trance-like condition is more likely to occur in seated, passive candidates as in thronosis than in active, aroused dancers. Such a condition could well cause a person to forget his troubled state of mind and face what is to come with a mind that is a tabula rasa, fresh, ready to accept a new, potentially mind-changing experience—to Socrates, of course, a most disturbing prospect for Kleinias—as they proceed to the initiation proper.

 70 Linforth (1946, 161f.) argues that Plato in his references to Korybantic rites indicated his “approval” (see also supra, nn. 64–65): “But he is so far from disapproving that he speaks in a tone which implies recognition of their worth. Socrates would not have suggested that Cleinias might have taken part in the rites if there was anything discreditable in doing so.” But his suggestion about Kleinias concerned a particular preliminary rite; it is precipitous to assume that Socrates is implying that the initiation that follows this preliminary rite was the usual Korybantic type leading to Korybantic frenzy (κορυβαντιᾶν). 71 Hawtrey (1981, 71) also finds this passage important for the understanding of the preliminary rite of thronosis. 72 HN 11.147: Quin et patentibus (oculis) dormiunt lepores multique hominum, quos κορυβαντιᾶν Graeci dicunt. Dodds 1951, 78. 96–97 n. 94; Rohde 1903, 47 n. 3. If it is relevant, the term κορυβαντιᾶν, “to be in a state of Korybantic frenzy”, seems inappropriate, perhaps the result of confusion with τὰ τῶν Κορυβάντων ἰάματα. Linforth (1946, 156) may be right in assuming that the candidate in thronosis “gradually lost consciousness of all but the whirling rhythm of the dance”; but his assumption that in “the telete proper, ... we may suppose, the candidate threw himself into the dance with the rest and yielded to the intoxication of the rhythm” does not seem an appropriate inference from a metaphor illustrating induction into sophistry.

  Kevin Clinton The particular sense of the Thronosis of the Korybantes in Kleinias’ case seems, therefore, to be that any confusions and doubts that Kleinias was experiencing were about to be wiped away, as he succumbs to a trance-like state and becomes a truly malleable soul in the hands of the two sophists as they proceed to the initiation proper. In this sense the preliminary ritual can be regarded as a psychic cleansing.73 Such a purification would be appropriate for a mystery cult like the Samothracian Mysteria. In general, Mysteria were known, despite their great benefits, to be frightening experiences.74 An initiand had to be psychically prepared, cleansed of fears, to encounter them bravely—μεγάθυμος, like Isidoros the initiate of the Samohracian and Eleusinian Mysteria (supra, p. 19).

. Dio Chrysostom Dio Chrysostom in his Olympikos (Or. 12.33–34) puts the metaphor of thronosis to a very different use—to illustrate the divine administration of the universe. His use of it seems, at first sight, not to offer any new information about the ritual. However, his placement of it in a new religious context offers significant perspective:75 So it is almost as though (σχεδὸν ὅμοιον ὥσπερ εἴ) anyone were to offer a man, a Greek or a barbarian, to be initiated (μυεῖσθαι) and into some mystic chamber (μυστικόν τινα μυχὸν) of extraordinary beauty and size where he would see many mystic sights and hear many mystic voices, where light and darkness would appear to him alternately, and a thousand other things would occur; and further, if as (ἔτι δὲ εἰ καθάπερ) they are accustomed to do, in the rite called enthronement (ἐν τῷι καλουμένῳ θρονισμῷ), the initiators (οἱ τελοῦντες) sitting down

 73 Ustinova (1992–1998, 511–515) discusses possession trance in other cultures as a cure for mental disorders. Often the rites need to be repeated for the same person; in the case of thronosis, however, the ritual is preliminary to another, main initiation, and presumably is not repeated. 74 Plutarch, De Anima, frg. 178 Sandbach. Cf. Burkert 1987, 91–93. 75 σχεδὸν οὖν ὅμοιον ὥσπερ εἴ τις ἄνδρα Ἕλληνα ἢ βάρβαρον μυεῖσθαι παραδοὺς εἰς μυστικόν τινα μυχὸν ⟨εἰσάγοι⟩ ὑπερφυῆ κάλλει καὶ μεγέθει, πολλὰ μὲν ὁρῶντα μυστικὰ θεάματα, πολλῶν δὲ ἀκούοντα τοιούτων φωνῶν, σκότους τε καὶ φωτὸς ἐναλλὰξ αὐτῷ φαινομένων, ἄλλων τε μυρίων γιγνομένων, ἔτι δὲ εἰ καθάπερ εἰώθασιν ἐν τῷ καλουμένῳ θρονισμῷ καθίσαντες τοὺς μυουμένους οἱ τελοῦντες κύκλῳ περιχορεύοιεν· ἆρά γε τὸν ἄνδρα τοῦτον μηδὲν παθεῖν εἰκὸς τῇ ψυχῇ μηδ’ ὑπονοῆσαι τὰ γιγνόμενα, ὡς μετὰ γνώμης καὶ παρασκευῆς πράττεται σοφωτέρας, εἰ καὶ πάνυ τις εἴη τῶν μακρόθεν καὶ ἀνωνύμων βαρβάρων, μηδενὸς ἐξηγητοῦ μηδὲ ἑρμηνέως παρόντος, ἀνθρωπίνην ψυχὴν ἔχων; ἢ τοῦτο μὲν οὐκ ἀνυστόν, κοινῇ δὲ ξύμπαν τὸ τῶν ἀνθρώπων γένος τὴν ὁλόκληρον καὶ τῷ ὄντι τελείαν τελετὴν μυούμενον, οὐκ ἐν οἰκήματι μικρῷ παρασκευασθέντι πρὸς ὑποδοχὴν ὄχλου βραχέος ὑπὸ Ἀθηναίων, ἀλλὰ ἐν τῷδε τῷ κόσμῳ, ποικίλῳ καὶ σοφῷ δημιουργήματι, μυρίων ἑκάστοτε θαυμάτων φαινομένων, ἔτι δὲ οὐκ ἀνθρώπων ὁμοίων τοῖς τελουμένοις, ἀλλὰ θεῶν ἀθανάτων θνητοὺς τελούντων, νυκτί τε καὶ ἡμέρᾳ καὶ φωτὶ καὶ ἄστροις, εἰ θέμις εἰπεῖν, ἀτεχνῶς περιχορευόντων ἀεί, τούτων ξυμπάντων μηδεμίαν αἴσθησιν μηδὲ ὑποψίαν λαβεῖν μάλιστα δὲ τοῦ κορυφαίου ⟨τοῦ⟩ προεστῶτος τῶν ὅλων καὶ κατευθύνοντος τὸν ἅπαντα οὐρανὸν καὶ κόσμον, οἷον σοφοῦ κυβερνήτου νεὼς ἄρχοντος πάνυ καλῶς τε καὶ ἀνενδεῶς παρεσκευασμένης; On the text see Russell 1992, 183.

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those being initiated (τους μυουμένους), were to dance round and round them (κύκλῳ περιχορεύοιεν)—pray, is it likely that the man in this situation would be in no way moved in his mind and would not suspect that all which was taking place was the result of a more than wise intention and preparation, even if he belonged to the most remote and nameless barbarians and had no guide and interpreter at his side—so long as he had the mind of a human being? Or, is this not impossible? Impossible that the whole human race, which is being initiated (μυούμενον) in the complete and truly perfect telete, not in a little building erected by the Athenians for the reception of a small company (οὐκ ἐν οἰκήματι μικρῷ παρασκευασθέντι πρὸς ὑποδοχὴν ὄχλου βραχέος ὑπὸ Ἀθηναίων), but in this universe, a varied and cunningly wrought creation, in which countless marvels appear at every moment, and where, furthermore, initiators (τελούντων) are not human beings who are of no higher order than the initiates (τοῖς τελουμένοις), but immortal gods who are initiating mortal men, and night and day both in sunlight and under the stars are— if we may dare to use the term—literally dancing around (περιχορευόντων) them forever—is it possible to suppose, I repeat, that of all these things his senses told him nothing, or that he gained no faintest inkling of them, and especially of the leader of the chorus, who pessides over the universe and directs the entire heaven and ordered world, just as a skillful pilot commands a ship, that has been perfectly furnished and lacks nothing?76

Dio presented here not one but two teletai—the Eleusinian Mysteria in the first conditional clause (ὥσπερ εἴ), and thronismos in the second (ἔτι δὲ εἰ καθάπερ). They are separate teletai grammatically and factually; the Eleusinian is explicitly identified below (ἐν οἰκήματι μικρῷ παρασκευασθέντι πρὸς ὑποδοχὴν ὄχλου βραχέος ὑπὸ Ἀθηναίων) in order to belittle it, whereas thronismos is given no geographical reference (it was not part of Eleusinian ritual).77 Plato’s text may well have inspired Dio to include thronismos with its circling dance.78 According to Nock, Dio adds nothing to Plato’s account;79 yet there are innovations: 1) Plato classified it as a ritual preliminary to the initiation proper; Dio has elevated it, seemingly, to the main initiation, by aligning it with the Eleusinian telete in the Telesterion; 2) Dio refers to the participants as μυουμένους, a term that can indicate mystai in the main initiation in μυστήρια or those taking part in the preliminary one.80 The first innovation, if Plato is the sole source, seems at first sight to be a misinterpretation. The second innovation could be correct, if derived from an authoritative source, but Dio does not provide a local reference. Doubts about his accuracy, however, can be put to rest by the fact that he made this presentation in an oration to a Panhellenic audience at Olympia. Such an audience, he surely knew, would not be unfamiliar with the cults to which he alludes. By placing thronismos side by side with the Eleusinian Mysteria, he implies that it was a well-known public rite. It would not fit his grand purpose of relating the experience

 76 Transl. J.W. Cohoon (Loeb), with minor modifications, some from Russell 1992, 183f. 77 Edmonds 2006. Since size was not a characteristic of thronosis, there was nothing about it to belittle, consequently no need of a local reference. 78 Cf. Russell 1992, 183. 79 Nock 1941, 579 n. 13. 80 See supra, p. 26; Clinton 2003, 58–60; 2008, 33f.

  Kevin Clinton of thronismos to the act of viewing the cosmos by alluding to a private cult in a little known private shrine in Athens, nowhere attested in our sources. The fact that Dio simply used two teletai figuratively to illustrate the workings of the divine cosmos obviates the charge that he misinterpreted Plato. In Euthydemus Socrates described thronosis as part of a telete, the telete of the Korybantes; here, Dio presented it as a telete occurring in a mystery cult, without specifying in which stage of the cult it was performed, as that was irrelevant to the picture he was creating. Thus, what he adds to Plato’s account is confirmation that the telete of thronismos belongs to a public cult involving μυουμένους—that is, Μυστήρια. Since no state (i.e. public) cult at Athens is attested for the Korybantes nor a preliminary ritual involving the Korybantes, and as we have seen (supra, pp. 28–29), it is very unlikely to have been a private cult at Athens, and, furthermore, Dio’s account implies that it is a public cult, it is hard to draw any other conclusion but that it was a public cult held most probably elsewhere than Athens, one that would be known to Athenian and Panhellenic audiences.81

 The Korybantes in Samothrace As discussed supra (pp. 26–27), Nock, in associating a telete of the Korybantes with the Samothracian Kabeiroi, put forward the hypothesis that it was performed in a circular structure that came to light early in the American excavations; much later, however, it was found to be unsuitable. As it happened, in 1965–67, an ideal venue for a circular dance was excavated on the Eastern Hill just inside the later Propylon (fig. 1, plan, no. 25): a circular area of ca. nine meters in diameter, paved with flagstones. The complex has the shape of a dancing space, an orchestra, and it is surrounded by five steps, which must have accommodated spectators.82 This complex was created apparently in the 5th century BC, and, until the Propylon of Ptolemy II was erected in 285–281, it would have been the first significant structure that the initiand encountered just inside the Propylon.

 81 Though as a preliminary rite probably not known officially by the name τελετὴ τῶν Κορυβάντων, but perhaps μύησις as at Eleusis (supra, p. 26). 82 The structure and its date: McCredie 1968, 216–234; 1979, 6–8; apud Lehmann 1998, 96f. See now Wescoat 2017, 31–62. Whatever stood in the center of the circle has long since disappeared, as well as the pavement in this central area. McCredie (1968, 219) explained that the pavement was “removed and the fill beneath it excavated by robbers who hoped to find treasure under whatever object stood there”. On the possibility that an altar stood here see Clinton 2003, 65 n. 49; Wescoat 2017, 52f.

Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods  

Fig. 1: Restored Sketch Plan of the Sanctuary of the Great Gods in the First Century A.D. as of 2016. Drawing American Excavations, Samothrace.

Any event that took place here would have been preliminary, open to public view, occurring at some moment (not necessarily immediately) in advance of the secret initiation, which took place below in the center of the sanctuary.83 Spatially, it parallels the location of preliminary initiation at Eleusis, held in the court just inside or outside the Propylaia; there the rite was performed on each initiand individually.84 In Samothrace, ministrants of thronosis, dressed as Korybantes, can readily be imagined

 83 In the Telesterion, the building currently called Hall of Choral Dancers; Clinton 2017, 323–335. 84 IEleusis 19.C.43–45, discussed supra, n. 46. The court (αὐλή) could be restored in this document as either inside or outside the sanctuary, but outside seems preferable.

  Kevin Clinton dancing in a circle around a seated initiate, to the accompaniment of the aulos, while spectators (among them perhaps epoptai) looked on.85 Korybantes in Samothrace are well attested since the 5th century. Pherecydes of Athens (FGrH 3 F 48) is cited by Strabo (10.3.21) as stating that nine Korybantes were born of Apollo and Rhetia, and they dwelled in Samothrace. In Lycophron (Alex. 77– 80), Cassandra describes Dardanos’ flight from Samothrace to Troy: “… he left Zerynthos, the cave of the goddess to whom dogs are sacrificed, when Saos [i.e. Samothrace], the mighty citadel of the Kyrbantes was destroyed by the foaming deluge of Zeus as it rained down on the whole earth.”86 According to Diodorus’ account (3.55.9), attributed to Dionysius Scytobrachion (FGrHist 32 F 7), the Mother of the Gods thought well of the island and settled on it her sons the Korybantes (κατοικίσαι καὶ τοὺς ἑαυτῆς υἱοὺς τοὺς ὀνομαζομένους Κορύβαντας), “whose father’s name is handed down in secret in the course of the telete (ἐξ οὗ δ’ εἰσὶ πατρὸς ἐν ἀπορρήτῳ κατὰ τὴν τελετὴν παραδίδοσθαι)” and instituted (καταδεῖξαι) the Mysteria.87 This must reflect local accounts, as the Mother of the Gods was a major goddess of the polis and one of the Theoi Megaloi.88 It is hardly likely, just on this evidence, that the Korybantes did not play a significant role in the Samothracian Mysteria.89 The one ancient work in which the Samothracian Korybantes loom largest is the Dionysiaca of Nonnus. Although information provided by Nonnus sometimes is not

 85 Wescoat 2017, 61: “Situating thronosis within the Theatral Circle is attractive from several vantages, including the early (for this Sanctuary) articulation of the Theatral Circle as a cultic station, the coincidence of the circular shape of the theatral space, and the indication (in Plato’s description) that thronosis precedes initiation.” She raised some questions: 1) The prohibition from entering the sanctuary without having undergone thronosis “would pose a significant impediment for the annual festival, which we assume was celebrated in the Sanctuary and whose attendees may not all of them have been expected to become myst[ai].” The “annual festival” was the Dionysia (Dimitrova/Clinton 2015). No polis, to our knowledge, placed a theater of Dionysos within a sanctuary with restricted access, and so attendees, including theoroi, would not be affected by a preliminary initiation within the Theatral Circle. If the nearby theater is determined to be within the Sanctuary of the Great Gods, then the Theater of Dionysos should be elsewhere, presumably in an unexcavated area within the Polis of Samothrace. 2) “A key question is whether the rite would have been performed in such a publicly visible place.” Pl. Euthyd. 277d–e implies that the rite was not secret (supra, p. 29). 3) “The exposed position of the theatral complex does not meet Dio’s description of an ‘innermost place’ (μυστικόν τινα μυχόν) as tangibly as does the secluded central sanctuary.” The syntax of Dio’s sentence and the broader passage show that by “innermost place” he had the Eleusinian Telesterion in mind, and that the venue of thronismos was elsewhere (supra, pp. 37–38). 86 Transl. Hornblower (2015, 141) with commentary ad loc. 87 Hemberg (1950, 304) and Wescoat (2017, 61 n. 66) provide extensive lists of ancient references to Korybantes in Samothrace. 88 She appears under many names (Hemberg 1950, 82–92; Nock 1941, 579f.); on Samothracian coins she has the iconography of the Mother of the Gods (Gadsbury 2017, 409–411). 89 Contra, Bremmer (2014, 21–54) apparently assigns no role to the Korybantes in the Samothracian Mysteria.

Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods  

given much credence, since he is “very late,” recent scholarship has demonstrated that his work contains information of great value on local customs and institutions. Louis Robert pointed out that in general he faithfully reflects local traditions.90 Pierre Chuvin and Susan Cole noted his familiarity with Samothracian realities, namely a round building (Arsinoeion) and the two-branched stream.91 The Dionysiaca describes the landing of Cadmos and his sailors on Samothrace, their overnight stay on the beach, and Cadmos’ walk to the town (Dion. 3.40–83). As their ship approaches the city in the evening, they are delighted to see “the sleepless flame of the Samian torch” (40–44). They enter the harbor, tie up the hawsers through a hole that had been drilled through a rock, and go to sleep on the beach (45–54). At dawn they awake to the music and dancing of the Korybantes (“priests of the Kabeiroi”, μυστιπόλων ... Καβείρων), the pipes ringing out “a tune in honor of Hekate, divine friend of dogs” (3.61–78): Already the bird of morning was cutting the air with loud cries; already the helmeted bands of desert-haunting Corybants were beating on their shields in the Cnossian dance, and leaping with rhythmic steps, and the oxhides thudded under the blows of the iron as they whirled them about in rivalry, while the double pipe made music, and quickened the dancers with its rollicking tune in time to the bounding steps. Aye, and the trees whispered, the rocks boomed, the forests held jubilee with their intelligent movings and shakings, and the Dryads did sing. Packs of bears joined the dance, skipping and wheeling face to face; lions with a roar from emulous throats mimicked the triumphant cry of the priests of the Cabeiroi (μυστιπόλων ἀλαλαγμὸν ἐμιμήσαντο Καβείρων), sane in their madness (ἔμφρονα λύσσαν ἔχοντα); the revelling pipes rang out a tune in honour of Hecate, divine friend of dogs, those single pipes, which the horn-polisher’s art invented in Cronos’s days. The noisy Corybants with their ringing din awoke Cadmos early in the morning.92

In its own extravagant way the poetry of this scene limns the Korybantes and their wild (but sane) dancing and music as a dominant feature of the Samothracian landscape, starting at the break of dawn. Though extravagant, there is no reason to believe that it does not reflect the striking reality of Korybantic music and dancing, especially the music of auloi coming from within the Theatral Complex on the sanctuary’s Eastern Hill, the sound reverberating within the sanctuary and beyond, up to the wall of the city and the “Korybantic cliffs”.93 And it is easy to imagine that the music of the Korybantes could last all day, in order to accommodate the preliminary initiation of  90 Robert 1975, 168–174, 180–188. Bowersock 1994, 386: “Robert recognized that the sources available to the poet preserved traditions that could be well illustrated from the inscriptions and especially the coins of the regions described.” See also Robert 1962; 1977, 13f.; 1987, 113. Robert’s work on Nonnus as a conservator of local traditions has been continued and enlarged upon by Chuvin (1991) and (1994, a shorter version). Cf. already Hemberg 1950, 117f. 91 On Nonnus and Samothracian realities, Cole 1984, 115, n. 233 and Chuvin 1991, 84f. 92 Transl. W.H.D. Rouse (Loeb). 93 σκοπιαὶ Κορυβαντίδες, 4.184, saluted in Harmonia’s farewell to Samothrace.

  Kevin Clinton a boatload of initiands as they received this rite one by one, as at Eleusis (IEleusis 19.C.16–30); the entire process could easily last from early morning to evening.94 As Nock aptly remarked, “From Pherecydes onwards ancient writers often assimilate Cabiri and Corybantes, and Strabo makes it clear that there was no little resemblance between the emotional ceremonies of Cabiri, Curetes, and Corybantes, as well as between popular concepts of Corybantes, Curetes, and Cabiri as identified with Dioscuri. … They were all concerned with deliverance, in one way or another, and Cabiri, Dioscuri, and Curetes alike became more widely prominent in the Hellenistic age: we can imagine Cabiri or Curetes absorbing Corybantic rites.”95 In Samothrace, the Korybantes, called μυστιπόλοι Καβείρων by Nonnus, were eminently suited, with their wild but “sane” (ἔμφρονα) dancing, to perform the preliminary rite in the Mysteria of the Kabeiroi and the other Great Gods. If the Korybantic preliminary initiation was part of the Samothracian Mysteria, why, then, did Plato not refer explicitly to Samothrace? It seems safe to say that the context of the ritual was so well known to Athenians that he did not need to make it explicit; but more importantly, the focus of Socrates’ metaphor was specifically on comparing the actions of the two strangers to the actions of Korybantes; thus reference to the main initiation of the Samothracian mystai, a different experience, would be not only irrelevant but would have attenuated Plato’s focus on the comparison. Nevertheless, the notion that Plato’s τελετὴ τῶν Κορυβάντων was a description of the preliminary ritual of the Samothracian Mysteria remains a hypothesis (the evidence does not definitively preclude that Plato had a different venue in mind), but the case for a venue outside of Athens is highly probable, and Samothrace is the most obvious candidate, given its close religious relationship with Athens.96 If it is correct, we can better understand why Dio Chrysostom includes in his Olympikos scenes from two mystery cults as reflections of a divinely ordered cosmos, scenes that were well known to his Panhellenic audience: to make his point most powerfully, he chose scenes from the two most famous Hellenic mystery cults, the Eleusinian and the Samothracian.

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 94 One incomplete list of initiates (Dimitrova 2008, 148–150, no. 63) contains over 60 names. 95 Nock 1941, 580. 96 The state and private cults of Erythrae do not seem to have included a preliminary initiation (supra, p. 30). Korybantic cult is not attested for Lemnos or Imbros.

Athens, Samothrace, and the Mysteria of the Samothracian Great Gods  

Beschi, L. (1998), “Immagini dei Cabiri di Lemno,” in: G. Capecchi/O. Paoletti/A.M. Esposito/A. Romualdi (eds.), In memoria di Enrico Paribeni, Rome, 45–58. Bonfante, G. (1955), “A Note on the Samothracian Language”, in: Hesperia 24, 101–109. Bowersock, G.W. (1994), “Nonnos Rising”, in: Topoi 4, 385–399. Bremmer, J. (2014), Initiation into the Mysteries of the Ancient World, Berlin. Brixhe, C. (2006), “Zone et Samothrace: Lueurs sur la langue thrace et nouveau chapitre de la grammaire comparée?”, in: CRAI, 1–20. Burkert, W. (1987), Ancient Mystery Cults, Cambridge. Burkert, W. (1993), ”Concordia Discors: the literary and the archaeological evidence on the sanctuary of Samothrace”, in: N. Marinatos/R. Hägg (eds.), Greek Sanctuaries: New Approaches, London, 178–191. Bury, R.B. (1926), Plato, The Laws, II (Loeb, Plato XI), London/Cambridge, Mass. Chuvin, P. (1991), Mythologie et géographie dionysiaques: recherches sur l’oeurvre de Nonnos de Panopolis, Clermont-Ferrand. Chuvin, P. (1994), “Local Traditions and Classical Mythology in Nonnus’ Dionysiaca”, in: N. Hopkinson (ed.), Studies in the Dionysiaca of Nonnus, Cambridge, 167–182. Clinton, K. (1974), The Sacred Officials of the Eleusinian Mysteries, Philadelphia. Clinton, K. (1992), Myth and Cult: the Iconography of the Eleusinian Mysteries, Acta Instituti Regni Sueciae, Series in octavo, Stockholm. Clinton, K. (2003), “Stages of Initiation in the Eleusinain and Samothracian Mysteries”, in: M.B. Cosmopoulos (ed.), Mysteria: The Archaeology of Ancient Greek Secret Cults, London, 50–73. Clinton, K. (2008), “Preliminary Intiation in the Eleusinian Mysteria”, in: A.P. Matthaiou/I. Polinskaya (eds.), ΜΙΚΡΟΣ ΙΕΡΟΜΝΗΜΩΝ, Μελέτες εἰς μνήμην Michael H. Jameson, Athens, 25–34. Clinton, K. (2017), “Two Buildings in the Samothracian Sanctuary of the Great Gods”, in: Journal of Ancient History 5, 323–356. Cole, S.G. (1984), Theoi Megaloi: The Cult of the Great Gods at Samothrace, Leiden. Cruccas, E. (2014), Gli dei senza nome: Sincretismi, ritualità e iconografia dei Cabiri e dei Grandi Dei tra Grecia e Asia minore, Rahden/Westf. Dignas, B. (2002), “Priestly Authority in the Cult of the Corybantes at Erythrae”, in: EpigAnat 34, 29–40. Dillon, S. (2017), “Terracotta Figurines”, in: Wescoat 2017, 395–401. Dimitrova, N. (2008), Theoroi and Initiates in Samothrace: the Epigraphical Evidence, Princeton, New Jersey. Dimitrova, N./Clinton, K. (2015), “The Annual Samothracian Festival Attended by Theoroi”, in: A.P. Matthaiou/N. Papazarkadas (eds.), ΑΞΩΝ, Studies in Honor of Ronald S. Stroud, Athens, 639–648. Dodds, E.R. (1951), The Greeks and the Irrational, Berkeley/Los Angeles. Edmonds, R.G. (2006), “To Sit in Solemn Silence? Thronosis in Ritual, Myth, and Iconography”, in: AJP 127, 347–366. England, E.B. (1921), The Laws of Plato, II. Manchester. Erler, M. (2017), Platon, Euthydemos: Übersetzung und Kommentar, Göttingen. Faraone, C.A. (2005), “Twisting and Turning in the Prayer of the Samothracian Initiates (Aristophanes Peace 276–279)”, in: MusHelv 62, 30–50. Fowler, R.L. (2013), “Herodotos and the Early Mythographers: the case of the Kabeiroi”, in: R.S. Smith/ S. Trzaskoma (eds.), Writing Myth, Leuven, 1–19. Fowler, R.L. (2013a). Early Greek Mythography II. Oxford. Fraser, P.M. (1960), Samothrace, Excavations Conducted by the Institute of Fine Arts of New York University 2.I, The Inscriptions on Stone, New York. Gadsbury, L.M. (2017), “Coins”, in: Wescoat 2017, 402–415. Gawlinski, L. (2012), The Sacred Law of Andania: A New Text with Commentary, Berlin.

  Kevin Clinton Graf, F. (2010), “The Kyrbantes of Erythrai”, in: G. Reger/F.X. Ryan/T.F. Winters (eds.), Studies in Greek Epigraphy and History in Honor of Stephen V. Tracy, Bordeaux, 301–310. Graham, A.J. (2002), “The Colonization of Samothrace”, in: Hesperia 71, 231–260. Hawtrey, R.S.W. (1981), Commentary on Plato’s Euthydemus, Philadelphia. Hemberg, B. (1950), Die Kabiren, Uppsala. Hornblower, S. (2015), Lykophron: Alexandra. Greek Text, Translation, Commentary, and Introduction, Oxford. Karadima-Matsa, C./Dimitrova, N. (2003), “Epitaph for an Initiate at Samothrace and Eleusis”, in: Chiron 33, 335–345. Kroll, J.H. (1993), The Athenian Agora, Results of Excavations Conducted by the American School of Classical Studies at Athens 26, The Greek Coins, Princeton, New Jersey. Lehmann, K. (1955), “Documents of the Samothracian Language”, in: Hesperia 24, 93–100. Lehmann, K. (1960), Samothrace, Excavations Conducted by the Institute of Fine Arts of New York University 2.II. The Inscriptions on Ceramics and Minor Objects, New York. Lehmann, K. (1998), Samothrace: A Guide to the Excavations and the Museum, 6th ed. Thessaloniki. Lewis, N. (1959), Samothrace, Excavations Conducted by the Institute of Fine Arts of New York University 1, The Ancient Literary Sources, London. Linforth, I.M. (1946), The Corybantic Rites in Plato, Berkeley/Los Angeles. Lloyd, A.B. (1994), Herodotus, Book II, Leiden. Marincola, J. (2001), Greek Historians, Oxford. McCredie, J.R. (1968), “Samothrace: Preliminary Report on the Campaigns of 1965–1967”, in: Hesperia 37, 216–234. McCredie, J.R. (1979), “Samothrace: Supplementary Excavations 1968–1977”, in: Hesperia 48, 1–44. Meiggs, R. (1972), The Athenian Empire, Oxford. Melo, W.D.C. de (2019), Varro: De Lingua Latina, Oxford. Nock, A.D. (1941), “A Cabiric Rite”, in: AJA 45, 577–581. Parker, R. (2005), Polytheism and Society at Athens, Oxford. Pretini, R. (1999), “Il coribantismo nelle testimonianze degli autori antichi: Una proposta di lettura”, in: SMSR 23, 283–298. Robert, L. (1962), Villes d’Asie Mineure. Études de géographie ancienne, Paris. Robert, L. (1975), “Nonnos et les monnaies d’Akmonia de Phrygie”, in: JSav 1975, 153–192. Robert, L. (1977), “La Titulature de Nicée et de Nicomédie: La Gloire et la haine”, in: HSCP 81, 1–39. Robert, L. (1987), Documents d’Asie mineure, Athens. Rohde, E. (1903), Psyche: Seelencult und Unsterblichkeitsglaube der Griechen, Tübingen/Leipzig. Ruhl, B. (2018), Imbros, Archäologie einer nordostägäischer Insel, Marburger Beiträge zur Archäologie 5, Marburg. Russell, D.A. (1992), Dio Chrysostom, Orations VII, XII and XXXVI, Cambridge. Savo, M.B. (2004), Culti, Sacerdozi e Feste delle Cicladi dall’ età arcaica all età romana, Tivoli. Schöpsdau, K. (2003), Platon, Nomoi (Gesetze), Buch IV–VII, Göttingen. Schwabacher, W. (1938), “Ein Fund archäischer Münzen von Samothrake”, in: J. Allan/H. Mattingly/ E.S.G. Robinson (eds.), Transactions of the International Numismatic Congress Organized and Held in London, 1936, London, 109–120. Trümpy, C. (1997), Untersuchungen zu den altgriechischen Monatsnamen und Monatsfolgen, Heidelberg. Ustinova, Y. (1992–1998), “Corybantism: the Nature and Role of an Ecstatic Cult in the Greek Polis”, in: HOROS 10–12, 503–520. Voutiras, E. (1996), “Un culte domestique des Corybantes”, in: Kernos 9, 243–256. Wescoat, B.D. (2017), Samothrace, Excavations Conducted by the Institute of Fine Arts of New York University 9, The Monuments of the Eastern Hill, Princeton, New Jersey.

Denis Knoepfler

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie Abstract: The great number of epitaphs with an ethnic is a specific feature – recognized long ago by the historians – of the Eretrian (and, to a lesser degree, of the Chalcidian) funeral epigraphy. As a young epimeletes of the Archaeological Service in the sixties, Vasileios Petrakos had contributed significantly to the adding of new items of this type to the collection of the Berlin Corpus (IG XII 9 and Supplementum), further increased, since then, by other Greek and Swiss publications. This paper emphasizes the historical interest of some monuments made known in 1968 and 1974 by the honorandus (or previously by the German epigraphist E. Ziebarth): for instance, the tombstone of a man from the almost completely obliterated city of Eudaristos in Paeonia (Macedonia), or the epitaphs of other mercenaries designated as Skaios Agrian, as Sapaios or simply as Thrax (in a small stele discovered many years ago by the author himself), more surprisingly as a Perses or as a Musos. An epitaph for an Aetolian is a noteworthy sample of a secondary inscription engraved on a stone originally made for an Eretrian citizen. Epitaphs for foreign women – natives from Boeotia, Crete or Epirus – are also worth studying. The author can also demonstrate that some very small fragments published (for the sake of completeness) by V. Petrakos are, in fact, the remains of known tombstones once much better preserved. In the conclusion, he draws the attention to the many still unedited inscriptions of that category (mostly found at random within the modern town): for example a very interesting epitaph for a lyric poet from Neapolis of Campania, to be dated around 100 BC.

Dans la seconde édition de la Cambridge Ancient History, volume VII 1 (1984), l’historien John K. Davies, soucieux de donner un aperçu plus concret de la circulation des personnes au sein du monde hellénistique, écrivait (p. 267) : For instance, there certainly came to be a substantial colony of Syrians at Delos, and of Syrians and Egyptians at Demetrias in Thessaly, and Rhodes shows tombstones of Alexandrians, Antiochenes, and Laodiceans in considerable numbers. Again, the 60 or so Hellenistic gravestones of foreigners buried at the unexceptional town of Eretria show a fairly even pattern of movement; of those recorded 15 are islanders (all but one from outside Euboea), 11 are from central Greece, 9 from Asia Minor, 8 from the Peloponnese, 7 from the south and east Mediterranean, and another 7 from Thessaly, Macedon and Thrace. Clearer still is the pattern from Hellenistic Athens, [etc.].

L’observation est intéressante, même s’il est permis de douter que le qualificatif « unexceptional » soit bien approprié pour caractériser la ville d’Érétrie – par quoi

https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-003

  Denis Knoepfler l’auteur entend indiquer, j’imagine, que les chiffres fournis par cette cité représenteraient une moyenne applicable, grosso modo, à la plupart des cités de Grèce propre. En réalité, s’il n’est pas question de mettre Érétrie sur le même plan que Démétrias, Rhodes ou Délos (sans parler d’Athènes),1 la forte proportion d’étrangers résidant alors dans cette cité – comme aussi à Chalcis – ne se vérifie point partout, loin de là : dès 1957, dans leur étude sur les épitaphes béotiennes,2 Peter M. Fraser et Tullia Rönne avaient souligné le contraste existant, à cet égard, entre le faciès donné par le recueil des épitaphes d’une cité telle que Tanagra et celui qui découle du corpus d’Érétrie et de Chalcis, voisines immédiates, pourtant, de la Tanagraïque. C’est donc l’indice que la situation économique et, avant tout, le statut politique de ces deux cités devaient différer, à cette époque en tout cas, des conditions qui prévalaient en Béotie.3 Plus globalement, on hésiterait sans doute un peu davantage, aujourd’hui, à qualifier de « non exceptionnelle » – c’est-à-dire de tout simplement ordinaire – une cité qui disposait d’un territoire aussi vaste que l’était l’Érétriade (à partir du IVe siècle), avec sa subdivision en une soixantaine de dèmes savamment regroupés en cinq chôroi et en six phulai, au sein d’un système dont la complexité n’a d’égal que celui d’Athènes, d’Argos et d’un nombre restreint de cités hors normes. Dès l’époque où ces pages furent écrites, au surplus, ce n’est pas quelque 60 stèles seulement qu’il aurait fallu prendre en compte pour Érétrie, mais un ensemble réunissant déjà près d’une centaine d’épitaphes gravées pour des défunts venus de l’étranger. On peut en effet se montrer surpris que cet expert en épigraphie et en prosopographie grecques (surtout attiques, il est vrai) ne se soit apparemment pas aperçu que la documentation réunie dans le fascicule eubéen publié par Erich Ziebarth en 1915 et dans son supplément paru en 1939 (IG XII 9 + Suppl.) s’était depuis lors notablement enrichie, comme si le corpus de Berlin constituait le socle indépassable de la recherche pour les historiens. Car en 1978 a été édité par Christiane Dunant4 un recueil de près de 200 stèles érétriennes, réutilisées (pour une bonne part d’entre elles) comme dalles de couverture d’une canalisation en bordure d’une vaste maison restaurée au début du IIe siècle, ensemble remarquablement homogène par

 1 Pour Athènes jusqu’à la fin du IVe siècle voir Ginestí Rosell 2012, avec les justes réserves et les rectifications de L. Dubois, BÉ 2013, n° 131. 2 Fraser/Rönne 1957, 98–100 ; cf. Ackermann/Knoepfler 2017, 220 (D. Knoepfler), dans le sillage de Christiane Dunant (cf. infra n. 4). 3 À l’occasion de la publication d’un important document d’Akraiphia accordant un privilège fiscal à des métèques en récompense à leur dévouement pour la défense de la cité, Kalliontzis 2017, 695, est enclin à supposer l’installation, dans cette petite ville, d’un nombre assez élevé de résidents étrangers. Mais il pourrait s’agir d’une situation exceptionnelle, liée à la période troublée des années 290. En tout cas, le corpus d’Akraiphia ne contient pratiquement aucune épitaphe pour des étrangers, et celui de Thèbes est à peine plus riche à cet égard (cf. BÉ 2015, n° 309, pour une nouvelle série d’épitaphes thébaines). 4 Dunant 1978 ; cf. Habicht 1983, 551, qui souligne l’intérêt de cet ensemble.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

la provenance (nécropole située devant la Porte de l’Ouest) et par la date (haute époque hellénistique). Or, au nombre de ces stèles – signalées dès 1979 dans le Bulletin épigraphique5 et reprises en 1982 dans le Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum6 se trouvent pas moins de 25 épitaphes pour des étrangers et étrangères ; et, parmi elles, il y en a plusieurs qui témoignent justement de cette bigarrure ethnique très loin d’être aussi banale en Grèce propre que ne pourrait le donner à croire la sentence, citée plus haut, de Davies : ainsi des femmes originaires de contrées parfois lointaines comme la Thrace,7 la Carie,8 la Cyrénaïque9 ou même la Palestine et l’Arménie,10 des citoyens de Milet, de Cyzique, d’Amisos, de Sinope11 et peut-être d’Héraclée du Pont (ou d’Héraclée du Latmos),12 sans omettre, bien sûr, les natifs et natives de la Vieille Grèce, qu’il s’agisse de gens venus du Péloponnèse avec son prolongement colonial vers l’Italie (Sicyone, Pellana, Achaïe, Étolie, Tarente)13 et surtout du continent qui fait face à l’Eubée (Béotie, Locride, Phocide),14 tandis que les îles de l’Égée, chose notable, ne sont représentées dans ce lot que par une belle épigramme intacte pour un

 5 Cf. J. et L. Robert, BÉ 1979, n° 349 (presque toutes les stèles avec ethnique y sont mentionnées). 6 SEG XXXVIII 725 pour l’ensemble des stèles à ethnique, à l’exception de l’épigramme pour un Andrien reproduite à part (voir ci-après n. 15). 7 Pour cette Θράιττα (n° 174) et des femmes portant ce nom, voir ci-après n° 4. 8 Μίκκα Ἀγρεοφῶντος Καλυνδία (n° 175); pour le patronyme, commenté par L. Robert dès la 1ère édition de cette épitaphe en 1965 (BÉ 1968, n° 415), voir maintenant l’article de Riet van Bremen, analysé BÉ 2014, n° 241, qui conteste – sans doute avec raison – le caractère épichorique de ce nom en Carie (cf. LGPN V.B s. v. n° 33 ; pour Μίκκα, LGPN V.B s. v. n° 2). 9 Δωριὰς Κυρηναία (n° 177 ; cf. LGPN I, s.v. n° 1) ; pour ce nom, avec cet exemple, voir Ackermann/ Knoepfler 2017, 210 (D. Knoepfler). Comme le rappelait l’éditrice, on connaissait déjà à Érétrie trois ressortissants de Cyrène (IG XII 9, 118 ; 787 et 789). La prosopographie cyrénéenne préparée par le regretté André Laronde est malheureusement toujours en attente d’être publiée. 10 Pour ces femmes originaires du Proche-Orient, voir ci-après n° 6, à propos d’un Perse (et d’un Phénicien). 11 Ces ressortissants de l’Asie Mineure côtière sont maintenant enregistrés dans LGPN V.A (2010) s. v. Θεογένης n° 60 (pour l’Amisénien n° 131+169), s. v. Λίβανος n° 6 (pour le Sinopéen n° 187) et LGPN V.B (2013) s. v. Ἀπελλῆς n° 12 (pour le Milésien n° 179 ; cf. aussi infra n. 26). 12 Mais comme le notait l’éditrice de cette stèle pour un Héracléote (n° 170), le nom du défunt Κρο[νος vel -κος, -ισος, etc.] n’est pas suffisamment assuré, ni assez rare (sans parler du banal patronyme), pour soutenir une attribution à une Héraclée déterminée, seule la ville de Lucanie étant exclue par la forme de l’ethnique ; en tout état de cause, l’origine du défunt pourrait bien être la très proche Héraclée Trachis, comme pour le bénéficiaire du décret réédité chez Knoepfler 2001, 166–169 n° 14. 13 Maintenant enregistrés dans LGPN III.A (1997), s. v. Ἀντικράτης n° 12 (pour le Tarentin n° 184) ; s. vv. Δεξίας n° 10 et Εὐπορία n° 3 (pour les deux ressortissants de Sicyone n° 181–182 ; sur les relations d’Érétrie avec Sicyone, cf. Knoepfler 2001, 29–41 n° 1) ; s. v. Λάμπρα n° 1 (pour l’Achéenne n° 167) ; s. vv. Φραστορίδας n° 1 et Ἀκήρατος n° 1 (pour le Pellanéen n° 178) ; s. v. Φειδίας n° 1 (pour l’Étolien n° 164; pour un autre Étolien, voir ci-après n° 5). 14 Voir LGPN III.B (2000), s. v. Δεινίας n° 1 et Καφισίας n° 59 (pour les Thébains n° 171 et 173) ; s. v. Ἱαρόκλεια n° 1 et Καφισόδωρος n° 81 (pour la Thébaine n° 172); s. v. Πάγων n° 4 (pour le Phocidien n° 186, qui – avec celui déjà connu par IG XII 9, 840, trouvera sa place parmi les Phocenses aliunde noti

  Denis Knoepfler citoyen d’Andros ;15 il faut mettre également à part le document historique qu’est la stèle d’un Lacédémonien mort très probablement lors de la bataille de 411 au large du port d’Érétrie.16 Mais une autre omission était peut-être plus surprenante encore, dans la mesure où il s’agissait d’une publication plus ancienne, et même de deux. Dix ans plus tôt, en effet, Vassilios Petrakos avait pris soin de faire connaître la plupart des inscriptions restées inédites qu’il avait pu repérer dans la collection alors tout récemment réunie au Musée d’Érétrie17 (construit en 1959), et cela dès l’époque de ses premières interventions – ô combien décisives pour l’avenir du site (voir ici même l’article de Pierre Ducrey) – en tant que jeune épimélète de l’Éphorie de l’Attique, de 1960 à 1963. Là aussi, c’était près d’une centaine d’épitaphes d’origine diverse, sans parler de quelques inscriptions relevant d’autres catégories. Un peu plus tard, en 1974, le même archéologue pouvait ajouter un supplément constitué en majeure partie par les trouvailles faites, dans l’intervalle, par son collègue Pétros Thémélis, en poste en Eubée depuis 1968.18 Or, cet ensemble en deux volets livrait également un nombre appréciable d’épitaphes pour des étrangers et étrangères, une quinzaine au total, dont plusieurs de grand intérêt. La plupart ne posaient pas de problème de lecture, ni d’interprétation ou de datation : c’étaient des stèles pour des Athéniens,19 pour un citoyen d’Échinos en Achaïe Phthiotide,20 pour un Céphallénien,21 pour un Crétois,22 pour un

 du nouveau corpus en préparaion, IG IX 12, fasc. 6) ; s. v. Παγκλῆς n° 2 (pour le Locrien n° 178 ; pour d’autres Locriens à Érétrie, cf. Knoepfler 2001, 89–96 n° IV et ci-après p. 78 et n. 161). 15 Dunant 1978, 26–18 n° 1; cf. J. et L. Robert, BÉ 1979, n° 349 ; SEG XXXVIII 726 ; CEG 627. 16 Dunant 1978, 47–48 n° 124. Cette stèle n’a pas été rangée avec les épitaphes pour les étrangers, car l’éditrice ne voulait pas exclure que la seconde ligne fût à restituer comme un patronyme plutôt que comme un ethnique. En réalité, tout plaide pour qu’il s’agisse bel et bien d’un Λακεδαι[μόνιος] : cf. Knoepfler 2019, 328, n° 207. 17 Petrakos 1968 ; Andriomenou 1968, 140–142 n° 28–38, avait également publié une dizaine de stèles eubéennes, mais aucune d’elles ne portait un ethnique. 18 Petrakos 1974, avec une utile table de concordance entre les numéros des IG et ceux de l’inventaire du Musée. 19 Petrakos 1968, 111 n° 76 (Λάχης Ἀθηναῖος) et 78 (Νικοκλῆς Ἀθηναῖος) ; cf. BÉ 1969, n° 456 ; LGPN II (1992), s. v. Λ. n° 15 et Ν. n° 1 (placé en tête à cause de l’incertitude sur la date). 20 Petrakos 1968, 111 n° 79 (Πολύξενος Εὐφρονίου Ἐχιναῖος). Cf. BÉ 1969, n°456 ; LGPN III.Β (2000), s. vv. Π. n° 55 et Ε. n° 27. Les inscriptions de l’Achaïe Phthiotide attendent d’être réunies en un nouveau corpus. 21 Petrakos 1974, 103 n° 19 et fig. 70β ; cf. BÉ 1978, n° 379, qui – comme le relève Henri W. Pleket, SEG XXVII 589 – indiquent qu’il s’agit bien d’un ethnique et non d’un anthroponyme ; mais il faut relever aussi que si V. Petrakos a pu considérer comme nom propre l’ethnique Μυσός (ci-après n° 7) ou, précédemment, l’ethnique Πέρσης (ci-après n° 6), il ne s’est pas prononcé, en revanche, sur Κεφαλλάν. Cette inscription est enregistrée maintenant chez Klaus Hallof, IG IX 12, fasc. 4 (2001), 1579, dans la section céphallénienne de ce volume portant sur l’épigraphie des Îles Ioniennes. 22 Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 73 (Δημ[- - -] vv. Κρή[ς]). Cf. BÉ 1969, n° 456 (sans le nom amputé, qui n’a pu être enregistré dans LGPN I). Fragment non revu : compte tenu du vacat laissé au début de la l. 2, il

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

homme venu d’une Antioche (probablement celle de Syrie),23 pour une Thébaine (Κοριφὼ Θεβήα) au début du IVe siècle (fig. 1),24 avec une graphie remarquable de l’ethnique, à rapprocher de celle que fournissait déjà l’épitaphe érétrienne IG XII 9, 790 (Ἀντίγων Θεβαῖος), qu’il vaut sans doute la peine d’illustrer également (fig. 2).25 Il y avait aussi un nouvel exemple de ces femmes de Milet si nombreuses en Grèce – à Athènes notamment – à partir de la basse époque hellénistique,26 de même qu’une stèle pour une esclave (?) thrace, qui ne portait sans doute pas le nom que lui a attribué l’éditeur dans sa restitution de cette épitaphe quelque peu mutilée.27 D’autres épitaphes, en revanche, s’avéraient d’interprétation plus délicate. Ce sont notamment quelques-uns de ces petits monuments qu’en guise d’hommage aussi admiratif qu’amical à l’égard de l’honorandus je voudrais réexaminer ici. Il faut bien voir que la publication d’un tel lot n’était pas chose aisée, puisque l’éditeur avait affaire à des documents dont la provenance lui était le plus souvent inconnue et qu’il n’avait guère le loisir de commenter. Pour un bon tiers d’entre elles, au surplus, ces petites inscriptions étaient malaisées à déchiffrer ou incomplètes, souvent même réduites à l’état de misérables fragments, ce qui augmentait sensiblement le risque de  ne semble pas qu’après l’ethnique national crétois la place ait été suffisante pour un ethnique municipal (comme souvent) : voir ci-après n° 12. 23 Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 70 (Ἀρτεμίδωρος Δημητρίου Ἀντιοχεύς). Cf. BÉ 1969, n° 456. On connaissait déjà deux autres Antiochéens à Érétrie, l’un – nommé Κάρπος Βαρναναίου (IG XII 9, 809) – étant certainement un Syrien, tandis que l’autre, Φανίας Ἀρτεμιδώρου (IG XII 9, 833), pourrait avoir été de quelque Antioche d’Asie Mineure. 24 Petrakos 1968, 111 n° 75; cf. BÉ 1969, n° 456 ; Koumanoudis 1979, 127 n° 1203, qui la rapproche justement de l’épitaphe IG VII 2570 provenant de Thèbes même, où la restititution Κοριφ[ώ] s’impose, comme le montre l’auteur (une Κορυφὼ Θεσπικά est attestée par une stèle trouvée à Éleusis, Nikopoulou 1970, 96 (5. Θηβῶν) ; cf. Roesch 1982, 466, qui ne paraît pas avoir connu, en revanche, son homonyme thébaine à Érétrie. 25 C’est évidemment un indice de date ancienne (pas de cas assuré dans les épitaphes athéniennes ; pour un exemple monétaire en Béotie même vers 400 av. J.-C., cf. Blümel 1982, 67 § 77), chose que confirme le type de la stèle (bandeau lisse sur fond piqueté) : ainsi, il paraît clair que leur date à toutes deux est le début du IVe siècle et pas seulement le IIIe siècle (comme on l’a admis à la suite de l’éditeur pour l’épitaphe érétrienne de Κοριφώ). À noter que l’orthographe canonique de l’ethnique thébain se rencontre à Érétrie, comme à Athènes, dès le milieu du IVe siècle, par exemple dans l’épitaphe de Καλυνθὶς Θηβαῖα (IG XII 9, 808 ; cf. Koumanoudis 1979, 116 n° 1094), ou dans celle de Μνασὶς Θηβαία (IG XII 9, 816 ; Koumanoudis 1979, 144 n° 1367, qui les date toutes deux trop tardivement). 26 Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 71 (Γνώμη Θέωνος Μειλησία). Cf. BÉ 1969, n° 456 ; LGPN V.B s. v. n° 2). Εn publiant la stèle d’un Ἀπελλῆς Μιλήσιος, Dunant 1978, 58 n° 179 (cf. supra n. 11) rappelait l’existence à Érétrie de trois monuments pour des Milésiens, dont celui-ci, les deux autres étant IG XII 9, 786 (LGPN V.B s. v. Ἀγαθοκλῆς n° 22) et Suppl. 636 (LGPN V.B s. v. Ἀντιοχίς n° 4). Voir maintenant W. Günther 2017, ouvrage où ces Milésiens et Milésiennes sont dûment recensé(e)s ; pour les très nombreux ressortissantes de Milet à Athènes à l’époque impériale – catégorie à laquelle appartient vraisemblablement cette Γνώμη ayant vécu entre le Ier siècle av. et le Ier siècle apr. J.-C. – voir plus particulièrement l’article de L.-M. Günther (2012), analysé par Chr. Feyel, BÉ 2013, n° 146. 27 Voir ci-après p. 60 et fig. 7b à propos du n° 4.

  Denis Knoepfler les considérer toutes a priori comme inédites, alors que certaines d’entre elles, naguère mieux conservées, avaient déjà pu faire l’objet d’une publication dans le corpus de Berlin. J’ai donc pleine confiance que notre ami – soucieux avant tout de la présentation la plus satisfaisante possible du matériel archéologique et épigraphique – ne me tiendra nulle rigueur des observations que je serai amené à faire sur quelquesunes des stèles qu’il a eu le mérite de faire connaître ; on verra d’ailleurs que cette critique peut porter également, comme il est normal, sur des épitaphes publiées par nos devanciers. 1. Stèle d’un Péonien. Plaque simple sans fronton, surface entièrement parée. Musée d’Érétrie (inv. 1021); Petrakos 1968, 111 n° 77 (sans photo) ; revue et estampée en 1972 (fig. 3).28 Νικάνωρ Βιαίου Εὐδαρισταῖος Παίων Cette épitaphe est sans contredit, du point de la géographie historique et même de l’histoire tout court, le document le plus original de la série publiée en 1968. Si l’éditeur, certainement conscient d’avoir affaire à un ethnique très peu banal, n’a pas voulu prendre le risque de le commenter, Jeanne et Louis Robert, eux, ont visiblement été très intéressés par ce témoignage sur une cité et un peuple situés aux frontières septentrionales du monde grec. On ne saurait donc mieux faire que de reproduire la substantielle notice qu’ils lui ont consacrée :29 Le troisième mot indique la ville de Péonie à laquelle appartenait Nikanôr. L. R. montrera que l’ethnique est nouveau, mais qu’il donne une autre forme de la ville de Péonie Audaristos (Ptolémée, en Pélagonie), les Audaristenses de Pline ; dès lors, le lieu Euristos de la Table de Peutinger, près de Stobi, pourrait fort bien être une déformation de Eudaristos-Audaristos. L’identification de Euristos avec Audaristos, envisagée par Heuzey, Mission de Macédoine, 328, est ordinairement repoussée.

 28 Je remercie mon élève et ancienne assistante Delphine Ackermann, maître de conférence à l’Université de Poitiers, de m’avoir fourni la photo prise par elle de ce document, dont je ne possédais qu’un estampage. Elle travaille, pour une thèse d’habilitation, à la confection d’un nouveau corpus de toutes les épitaphes trouvées en ville d’Érétrie (cf. déjà Ackermann/Knoepfler 2017). Ma reconnaissance va également à l’Éphorie de l’Eubée et particulièrement à sa directrice, Mme Angéliki Simosi, de m’avoir autorisé à donner des photos des stèles publiées par Vassilios Petrakos et d’autres savants ou découvertes par moi-même. 29 BÉ 1969, n° 456. Ces inscriptions n’ont pas été reprises, en revanche, dans le SEG, qui a laissé de côté, on le sait, beaucoup de documents édités entre la publication du vol. XXV (1968) et la nouvelle série commençant avec le vol. XXVI (1976) ; cf. Knoepfler 1988.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

L’essentiel était dit, ce qui tempère un peu le regret que l’on éprouve à ne pouvoir lire la page plus développée que le maître avait prévu d’écrire sur cette question. Il vaut néanmoins la peine de pousser l’enquête un peu plus loin, non pas certes en s’improvisant spécialiste de cette région des confins helléniques, mais en s’aidant, avec modestie, des instruments de travail mis opportunément à la disposition des chercheurs au cours du demi-siècle écoulé. C’est d’ailleurs sur la proposition de L. Robert que l’historienne Fanoula Papazoglou avait entrepris la refonte, parue en 1988, de la version serbocroate (1957) de son ouvrage sur Les villes de Macédoine, où l’on trouve notamment une précieuse mise à jour des connaissances sur l’identification de cette localité.30 En l’occurrence, dans un chapitre consacré à la « Péonie orientale » – c’est-à-dire à la partie de la Péonie qui fut intégrée, sous Antigone Dôsôn, au royaume des Argéades et plus tard à la province de Macédoine –, elle rappelait d’abord que cette ville d’Audaristos était à ranger parmi les cités de la vallée de l’Axios (Vardar), située qu’elle était « à 12 mille au Sud-Ouest de Stobi sur la route menant à Héraclée », dans la mesure où l’on pouvait l’identifier à la station nommée Euristus sur la Table de Peutinger (Stobi XII, Euristo XXIIII, Ceramis XI, Heraclea). Cette identification, qui pouvait paraître excessivement audacieuse, Papazoglou avait cru devoir la rejeter dans la 1ère édition de son ouvrage,31 mais le rapprochement établi par L. Robert à propos de l’inscription d’Érétrie l’avait convaincue du bienfondé de l’intuition remontant à Léon Heuzey.32 Celui-ci notait en effet que la station Euristos, à situer près du village de Rajec, ne devait sans doute faire qu’un avec « la ville d’Andaristos [sic] que Ptolémée33 place, avec Stobi, dans la Pélagonie, et dont il ne faut peut-être pas séparer les Audaristenses, communauté de la Haute Macédoine selon Pline ».34 Mais l’historienne yougoslave pouvait néanmoins faire progresser la recherche sur trois points. D’une part – grâce aux travaux de deux de ses compatriotes, les archéologues Nicolas Vulić (1938), puis surtout Ivan Mikulčić (1975) – elle était désormais en mesure de faire savoir que la localisation du centre urbain d’Euristus, « agglomération considérable », était définitivement établie à mi-distance entre les  30 Papazoglou 1988, 327, avec la carte de la vallée de l’Axios en fig. 12 (p. 309). 31 Comme elle le rappelle elle-même très honnêtement : Papazoglou 1988, 327 n. 136. 32 Heuzey/Daumet 1876, 328. 33 Ptol. III 13.34), où la forme Ἀνδάριστος doit être considérée aujourd’hui comme une variante fautive des mss., car seule Αὐδάριστος peut rendre compte de la forme hellénisée qu’atteste l’inscription d’Érétrie. On lira donc : Πελαγόνων · Αὐδάριστος, Στόβοι. Cf. Stückelberger/Graßhoff 2006, 342–343 et 343, n. 161 : « Die durch Hs. X belegte Namensvariante Audaristos ist wahrscheinlicher », avec renvoi à Papapzoglou 1988, 327. 34 Plin. HN 4.35 : Allantenses, Audaristenses, Morylli (…). Cette liste, parfois problématique pour ce qui est du texte transmis, offre l’intérrêt de reposer sur une source officielle : elle atteste donc l’existence d’une communauté autonome des Audaristenses à l’époque romaine (cf. Papazoglou 1988, 22– 23). – Cette partie de l’œuvre n’a pas encore été reprise dans l’éd. de la Coll. des Univ. de France ; pour une trad. fr. récente, voir Schmidt 2011, 190.

  Denis Knoepfler villages de Rajec (site d’Heuzey) et de Drenovo (site de Vulić) où la route de Stobi quitte la vallée de l’Erigon et (…) s’engage dans les montagnes de la Pélagonie ». D’autre part, à la lumière de l’épitaphe érétrienne, « il n’y a plus lieu de douter, écrivait-elle, que Εὐδάριστος ne soit une forme grécisée du toponyme péonien Αὐδάριστος ».35 Enfin, elle abordait la question de la chronologie, qui ne s’était guère posée jusque-là: car, comme elle le relevait d’entrée de jeu,36 l’Eudaristaien décédé en Eubée est « le dernier personnage qualifié de Péonien que nous connaissions »37 : en effet, en 167 av. J.-C., la Péonie cessa d’exister en tant que nation autonome, son territoire ayant été délibérément réparti entre trois des quatre nouvelles mérides de la Macédoine romaine. Dans ces conditions, la stèle d’Érétrie – datée approximativement du IIe siècle av. J.-C. par l’éditeur – pourrait faire problème s’il s’avérait qu’elle doive être placée vers le milieu du siècle seulement, voire plus tard encore: « Il serait intéressant de savoir – si la paléographie le permettait – de quelle partie du IIe siècle il s’agit »,38 se demandait donc à juste titre Papazoglou ; de son côté, notre confrère et vieil ami Miltiadis Hatzopoulos relevait, à propos de la Péonie restée jusqu’à la fin en dehors du royaume macédonien, que « still in the second century, a citizen of Eudaristos was not Macedonian, but an Εὐδαρισταῖος Παίων ».39 En fait, ayant pu revoir la pierre dès 1972 dans les réserves du Musée, je juge utile d’en fournir ici une photographie qui permettra à chacun de juger de l’écriture (comme aussi du support). Il me semble que ce monument n’offre rien qui puisse interdire de le dater de la fin du IIIe siècle av. J.-C. C’est d’ailleurs à l’époque où l’Eubée était encore sous la domination macédonienne que Nikanor fils de Biaios – deux noms parfaitement grecs mais bien inégalement populaires (puisque le premier est l’un des anthroponymes les plus répandus dans la Macédoine royale et encore romaine,40 tandis que le second est rare partout)41 – a dû être enrôlé comme mercenaire pour servir ensuite dans la garnison d’Érétrie. Il se pourrait certes qu’en 196, au moment où les garnisons royales ont dû quitter l’île sur l’ordre du Sénat romain, ce soldat  35 Et elle ajoute : « Quant à la forme Euristus, s’il ne s’agit pas d’une simple erreur de copiste, elle s’expliquerait aussi comme une nouvelle grécisation du nom ». 36 En tête de son chapitre III, p. 307 n. 5. Voir aussi p. 286 à propos de « l’étrange indication de Ptolémée », selon laquelle Stobi et Audaristos étaient des villes de Pélagonie et non de Péonie, alors que « pour Audaristos nous avons maintenant le témoignage d’une inscription mentionnant un Εὐδαρισταῖος Παίων ». Papazoglou pouvait expliquer cela par le fait que l’ethnos péonien avait en quelque sorte perdu son identité dans le démembrement du territoire qu’il occupait de part et d’autre de l’Axios (cf. Papazoglou 1988, 69–71 pour le sort de la Péonie en 167). 37 Papazoglou 1988, 307 n. 5. Car, estimait-elle non sans raison, « l’épitaphe […] ne pourrait pas être de beaucoup postérieure à la conquête romaine ». 38 Papazoglou 1988, 327 n. 135. 39 Hatzopoulos 1996, 207 et n. 11. 40 LGPN IV, s. v. (plus de 100 ex. !). Le Péonien d’Eudaristos est enregistré sous le n° 102, avec renvoi à Tataki 1998, 208–209 n° 16. 41 LGPN IV, s.v. n° 2 (2 ex.). Bechtel 1917, 501, donne, pour ce nom, un exemple archaïque à Théra.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

ait préféré rester en Eubée plutôt que de retourner dans sa rude patrie. Mais ce n’est pas l’hypothèse la plus probable. En tout cas, son épitaphe ne saurait être alléguée pour soutenir l’idée que la nation péonienne continua à exister après 167. Inversement, elle ne suffit pas prouver que les Péoniens conservèrent une sorte d’autonomie au sein du royaume de Macédoine. En réalité, la question se pose désormais en d’autres termes: est-il admissible qu’après la mainmise macédonienne sur la Péonie méridionale – suite à la campagne menée contre les Dardaniens en 229 par Antigone Dôson (qui fonda la ville d’Antigoneia non loin de Stobi et donc d’Eudaristos), puis à la nouvelle remise à l’ordre de ce pays par le jeune Philippe V en 21742 –, un Péonien, manifestement très hellénisé et certainement actif au sein de l’armée macédonienne, ait été encore en droit de revendiquer son identité péonienne ? Si l’on devait répondre par la négative, cela pourrait constituer un terminus ante quem pour l’inscription d’Érétrie. On voit par un tel exemple quel intérêt peut avoir une simple épitaphe pour l’histoire non seulement d’une cité mais de tout un peuple ! Or, ce cas singulier n’est pas sans rappeler celui d’une autre stèle érétrienne venue au jour dans l’entre-deux-guerres, qu’il paraît très nécessaire de soumettre, elle aussi, à un nouvel examen. 2. Épitaphe d’un Agriane Skaien. Musée d’Érétrie (inv. ME 1000). Plaque de calcaire local (l’anathyrose conservée sur la face supérieure et les mortaises visibles sur la face latérale dr. indiquent qu’il s’agit du remploi d’un bloc d’architecture). Publiée par E. Ziebarth, IG XII Suppl. 629. Stèle revue en juin 1975 (fig. 4). Ἀρχίας Σκαιὸς Ἀγριάν L’éditeur était, de prime abord, tenté de voir dans ces trois lignes les noms de trois individus distincts (chose tout à fait insolite, on le verra encore, dans l’épigraphie funéraire érétrienne) ; mais lors de la correction des épreuves de IG XII Supplementum, Günther Klaffenbach avait indiqué que, si la forme adjective de la ligne 2 était d’interprétation douteuse, il fallait en revanche reconnaître à coup sûr un ethnique à la ligne 3, puisque dès le Ve siècle av. J.-C. l’existence du peuple des Agrianes est bien attestée. Hérodote déjà, en effet, les situe au voisinage des Péoniens, à l’est du Pangée (5.16.1) ;43 Thucydide, lui aussi, fait mention de cette nation, qu’il rattache de même à l’ethnos Paionôn (2.96.3). Ces deux peuples, en effet, étaient voisins, car les Agrianes  42 Polyb. 5.97.1–2. Pour le rattachement de la Péonie au royaume de Macédoine sous le règne de Dôsôn, voir Le Bohec 1993, 151–154. 43 Pour ce passage, où la mention des Agrianes a été souvent considérée, à tort, comme une interpolation, voir Hammond 1976, 68 et carte 15 ; cf. Hammond 1980, 57, où les Agrianes sont situés « on the upper Strymon, below Mt Scombros (Vitoha) ».

  Denis Knoepfler occupaient, selon Strabon notamment, un territoire situé près des sources du Strymon,44 en bordure occidentale du massif du Rhodope; réputés les uns et les autres, depuis l’époque d’Alexandre au moins, pour être de redoutables archers et surtout « acontistes », les ressortissants de ces deux peuples sont d’ailleurs assez souvent associés dans nos textes, comme l’avait rappelé Adolf Wilhelm en commentant une épigramme de Tlos (Lycie) transmise par Stéphane de Byzance,45 où le défunt est loué pour avoir combattu les Péoniens et les Agrianes passés en Asie Mineure en même temps que les Galates.46 Il ne fait donc aucun doute que notre Archias – en dépit de son nom parfaitement hellénique – ait été un membre de cette tribu thrace. C’est la solution que retenait d’ailleurs Marcel Launey dans son ouvrage de référence sur les armées hellénistiques,47 et c’est celle qu’ont adoptée, bien plus récemment, les éditeurs du Lexicon of Greek Personal Names.48 Mais que faire de Σκαιος ? Le LGPN n’est ici d’aucun secours, car cet élément de la nomenclature de l’Agriane Archias y a été tout simplement escamoté, n’apparaissant ni comme anthroponyme - lequel est, d’ailleurs fort rare en tout pays49 – ni non plus comme ethnique civique ou tribal à côté de l’ethnique régional. De fait, la forme Σκαιος a suscité un certain embarras. Launey, en particulier, confessait ne pouvoir l’interpréter autrement que par l’hypothèse d’un erreur survenue dans la gravure ou la copie de la stèle : « faut-il corriger Σκαιο(υ) (patronymique)

 44 Strabon 7.5.11 ; fr. 36, 37 et 41. Cf. Baladié 1989, 255 (index des noms) et déjà Papazoglou 1988, 347 et 353–355 (commentaire du fr. 36E = 36–37 Baladié). Pour le statut des Agrianes – semblable à celui des Péoniens proprement dits – cf. Hatzopoulos 1996, 245–246 (l’ethnique Σκαιός n’est pas répertorié par ce savant). 45 S.v. Ἄγριαι (A 47, Billerbeck 2006, 48–49), où le lexicographe définit ces Agriai comme ἔθνος Παιωνίας μεταξὺ Αἵμου καὶ Ῥoδόπης. Et il ajoute (avant de citer l’épigramme) : λέγονται καὶ Ἀγριᾶνες. 46 Wilhelm 1931, 319–334 = Wilhelm 1974, 319–334 (sic !), en particulier 321 ; cf. Robert 1978, 21–22 (= Robert, OMS 7, 399–400). 47 Launey 1949, 406 n. 5 ; cf. l’appendice prosopographique en p. 1203, où Launey ne pouvait enregistrer que deux mercenaires connus comme Agrianes. Pour leur statut dans l’armée royale macédonienne, voir Le Bohec 1993, 314–315, avec la bibliographie ancienne. Dans l’armée lagide, il n’est pas fait usage, selon toute apparence, de l’ethnique Ἀγριάν, mais seulement du générique Θράϊξ : cf. Fischer-Bovet 2014, 174 et 191–192. 48 LGPN IV, s.v. Ἀρχίας n° 12. Le personnage n’a pas été retenu, en revanche, dans le répertoire de Tataki 1998, sans doute parce que les Agrianes – à la différence des Péoniens – ne sont pas censés avoir appartenu au Royaume de Macédoine. 49 Le nom Σκαῖος se rencontre certes à Thèbes pour l’un des dédicants des trois trépieds vus par Hérodote dans le sanctuaire d’Apollon Hismènios (Hdt. 5.60) ; mais ce personnage est une figure quasi mythique, que l’auteur des Histoires identifiait au fils d’Hippokoôn, contemporain d’Œdipe (aussi Bechtel 1917 ne retenait-il pas ce nom). De fait, le seul exemple épigraphique de Σκαῖος – pas enregistré dans LGPN I – figure dans un décret de Samos, où Λυσαγόρας Καίου doit être lu, comme l’avaient vu Christian Habicht, puis Olivier Masson et Klaus Hallof – Λυσαγόρα(ς)Σκαίου (IG XII 6, 1, 38), personnage qui n’a sans doute rien à voir avec la famille de l’historien Douris, contrairement à ce que l’on a pu penser sur la base d’un passage corrompu dans Paus. 6.3.5 : cf. Knoepfler 2015, 21–24.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

au lieu de Σκαιος ? ».50 Cette perplexité vient sans doute de ce que, normalement – lorsque l’on se trouve en présence d’un double ethnique (« expanded ethnic », dans la terminologie du livre de Fraser sur ce sujet)51 –, c’est l’ethnique national ou fédéral ou régional (selon les cas) qui, normalement, précède l’ethnique local ou municipal : qu’il s’agisse de la Thessalie ou de la Béotie, de la Crète ou de la Macédoine,52 on rencontre le plus souvent des expressions telles que Θεσσαλὸς Γυρτώνιος, Βοιωτὸς Ἀνθαδόνιος, Κρὴς Κνώσσιος, Μακεδὼν Πελλαῖος, etc. L’ordre inverse, avec l’ethnique régional en seconde position, est inhabituel (ainsi Ἀρεθούσιoς Μακεδών pour un citoyen d’Aréthousa en Mygdonie). Or, justement, le cas fourni par la stèle du Péonien d’Eudaristos inhumé à Érétrie (ci-dessus n° 1) était cité par P.M. Fraser comme exemple de cette pratique plus rare : « in reverse sequence, Νικάνωρ Βιάνορος (sic !), described on an Eretrian tombstone as Εὐδαρισταῖος Παίων ».53 À la lumière de ce parallèle, il me paraît clair que Σκαιὸς Ἀγριάν (qui n’a pas été pris en compte par le savant britannique) doit être compris exactement de la même façon : on a affaire à l’ethnique d’une communauté particulière englobée dans l’ethnos des Agrianes. Ce peuple des Skaioi était apparemment connu des Grecs dès l’époque d’Hécatée de Milet, si l’on en juge par une citation – certes peu explicite – de Stéphane de Byzance, s.v. Σκαῖοι: ἔθνος μεταξὺ τῆς Τρωάδος καὶ τῆς Θρᾴκης, ὡς Ἑκαταῖος ἐν Εὐρώπῃ.54 Si Strabon ne signale pas expressément, au sein (ou au voisinage) de l’ethnie des Agrianes, une tribu qui porterait le nom de Skaioi, cela s’explique sans doute par l’état de conservation de son livre VII, puisque c’est à travers trois fragments seulement (fr. 36, 37 et 41) que l’on trouve chez lui des informations éparses sur les Agrianes. En revanche, dans son livre XIII sur la Troade, en traitant plus précisément des fameuses « Portes Scées » (Σκαῖαι/ Σκαιαὶ πυλαί)55 de l’épopée homérique, le Géographe signale l’existence de plusieurs toponymes communs aux Troyens et aux Thraces, en s’appuyant sans nul doute, ici, sur le commentaire du très érudit Démétrios de Skepsis (XIII 1, 21 C 590 : πολλαὶ δ’ὁμωνυμίαι Θρᾴξι καὶ Τρῷσιν, οἷον Σκαῖοι Θρᾴκες τινες καὶ Σκαῖος ποταμὸς καὶ Σκαῖον τεῖχος καὶ ἐν Τρωίᾳ Σκαῖαι πυλαί).56 On a  50 Launey 1949, 406 ; cf. 1203. 51 Fraser, GET. Cet ouvrage posthume du maître d’œuvre du LGPN a ét publié par les soins du professeur Simon Hornblower. 52 On retrouvera ces divers exemples au ch. V, p. 119 sqq., de l’ouvrage de P. M. Fraser. 53 Fraser, GET, 134. Relevons qu’il n’est pas tout à fait exact d’écrire en n. 46 que dans le BÉ 1969, « it is suggested that Εὐδαρισταῖος may be a form of Αὐδάριστος », car cette forme-ci est évidemment celle du toponyme lui-même, non pas de l’ethnique. 54 FgrHist 1, F 18. Cf. Steph. Byz, Σ 193, éd. Billerbeck/Neumann-Hartmann 2017, 190–191, qui, « zu diesem wenig bekannten Volk », renvoient à Grindin 1997, 57–58 (non vidi). 55 Il. 3.263.445, et passim. Cf. Trachsel 2007, 14, qui ne s’attarde pas à expliquer cette dénomination. 56 Cf. Leaf 1912, 153–154. Strabon mettait de même en correspondance le fleuve Xanthos de la Troade et la tribu thrace des Xanthioi. Mais l’existence d’une tribu thrace de ce nom est mise en doute par Beševliev 1983, qui a commenté ce passage de Strabon (p. 263), en renvoyant à l’ouvrage classique de Detchew 1957, 333 sqq.

  Denis Knoepfler ainsi de bonnes raisons d’en inférer que ces Thraces dits Skaioi habitaient une région traversée par un cours d’eau du même nom, qui pourrait dès lors être un affluent du Strymon ou le Strymon lui-même, mais passablement en amont de la ville d’Héracleia Sintikè,57 puisque la stèle d’Érétrie enseigne que les Skaioi se rattachaient à la grande ethnie des Agrianes. La question se pose alors de savoir si ces Agrianes qualifiés de Σκαῖοι/Σκαιοί, « situés à gauche » (?) – dans la mesure où l’accentuation du mot n’est guère assurée par nos sources – ne pourraient pas, en fin de compte, ne faire qu’un avec le peuple que les auteurs désignaient sous le nom de Λαιαῖοι (nom apparemment dérivé – par étymologie populaire - de λαιός, « gauche ») : ainsi en tout premier lieu Thucydide dans son fameux excursus thrace, qui, précisément, mentionne ce peuple des Laiaiens au voisinage immédiat de celui des Agrianes.58 Mais l’intérêt historique de l’épitaphe érétrienne n’est pas moindre que son apport sur le plan géographique. On doit ici tenir le plus grand compte de la date, qui, selon l’éditeur, serait le IIe siècle (sans autre précision). Il paraît clair, toutefois, que l’écriture – dont chacun pourra désormais juger – conduit au plus tard vers 200 av. J.-C., comme le montrent en particulier la forme de l’alpha (à barre droite ou peut-être légèrement courbe dans un cas) et celle du sigma (à branches horizontales), de même que la présence d’apices fort discrets. Or, justement, on sait qu’en 208, pour prévenir une attaque romano-étolienne, le roi Philippe V fit débarquer en Eubée, sous les ordres de Ménippos, une importante force militaire, dont un contingent de 500 Agrianes. Nos sources concordent parfaitement, puisqu’au témoignage de Polybe (10.42.3 : εἰς δὲ Χαλκίδα καὶ τὴν ἄλλην Εὔβοιαν [ἐξέπεμψε ὁ Φίλιππος] Μένιππον ἔχοντα πελταστὰς χιλίους, Ἀγριᾶνας πεντακοσίους) répond celui de Tite-Live (28.5.11 : additi quingenti Agrianum ut omnes insulae partes tueri posset).59 En fin de compte, par conséquent, il semble légitime de voir dans notre Σκαιὸς (sic ?) Ἀγριάν un individu appartenant à ce corps de mercenaires, dont une section aurait été affectée au renforcement de la garnison d’Érétrie, ville également menacée par une descente de la flotte romano-pergaménienne. C’est même de cette façon que l’on s’expliquerait le mieux  57 Depuis peu localisée sûrement près du village de Rupite en Bulgarie : cf. A. Avram, BÉ 2017, n° 357, et BÉ 2018, n° 294–295. Le Barrington Atlas, pl. 49, place les Agrianes encore à l’arrière des Maides. On pourrait éventuellement imaginer que, si ces Skaioi Agrianes étaient désignés comme tels par les Grecs, c’est qu’ils occupaient – de leur point de vue à eux – la rive ouest du Strymon (mais déjà fort loin de la côte). 58 Thuc. 2.96.3 : ἀνίστη δὲ καὶ Ἀγριᾶνας καὶ Λαιαίους (scil. Σιτάλκης). Il ressort de la suite du texte que les territoires de ces deux peuples étaient séparés par le Strymon, les Lalaiens se trouvant à l’ouest, du côté des Péoniens. Si les commentateurs anglo-saxons de l’historien (Gomme 1954; Hornblower 1991) n’apportent pas de précisions là-dessus, il y a plus à glaner chez Zahrnt 2006, 590 sqq. en particulier 613–614. 59 Cf. Ziebarth, IG XII 9, p. 154, l. 152–155, l. 8 ; Launey 1949, 406 ; Walbank 1967, 257 (avec mention de la stèle d’Érétrie, « dated by Hiller von Gaertringen to the second century » ; rappelons ici que c’est Ziebarth, non pas Hiller, qui eut la responsabilité de cette section de IG XII Suppl.) ; Picard 1979, 279– 280 (sans mention de ce document).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

qu’au sein du contingent agriane, fort de plusieurs centaines d’hommes, on ait pu faire une distinction entre les ethnies qui le composaient. Dès lors, cette épitaphe, sans doute de très peu postérieure à l’an 208, serait l’une des plus précisément datées de toute la série.60 3. Épitaphe perdue pour un Sapéen (Thrace). Ziebarth, IG XII 9, 795, « in domo Καββαθᾶ »61 (ce numéro du corpus est reproduit ici fig. 5). À en juger par le fac-similé publié dans le corpus eubéen, c’est à peu près à la même époque que doit remonter la stèle d’un autre soldat thrace au service de la Macédoine, document qui fut copié en 1908 par Ziebarth dans une maison du village de Nea Psara (= Eretria) et n’a plus été revue depuis.62 Selon l’éditeur, le défunt se serait appelé Διλ[ί]ζελμις Ἀρτιδόνιoς, tandis que son ethnique, amputé à gauche, fut immédiatement identifié par Ulrich von Wilamowitz-Moellendorff63 – alors patron des Inscriptiones Graecae – comme étant celui du peuple des Sapaioi, [Σα]παῖος, peuple que la description chez Hérodote de la marche de Xerxès entre Maronée et Abdère (7.110) a permis depuis toujours de localiser assez précisément dans l’arrière-pays de ce tronçon de la route côtière, et plus précisément – grâce à d’autres sources – à l’est du fameux défilé de l’Akontisma marquant, à partir du règne de Philippe II, la frontière orientale de la Macédoine.64 L’origine thrace du personnage est pleinement confirmée par l’onomastique, puisque les noms en -ζελμις sont, on le sait, très caractéristiques de ce pays, toutes tribus confondues. Pourtant, la lecture de l’idionyme par Ziebarth créait un hapax et était dès lors sujette à caution : si elle fut néanmoins enregistrée

 60 Avec celle du Lacédémonien Dardan(i)os, mort très vraisemblablement en 411 (cf. supra p. 48 et n. 16) et celle du philosophe Asklépiadès de Phlionte décédé vers 280 (cf. infra p. 76 et n. 151). 61 Dans la même maison se trouvait la stèle IG XII 9, 363, qui, elle, a été enregistrée au Musée sous le n° 753 (revue et photographiée par l’auteur en juillet 1974); en revanche, le fragment IG XII 9, 508, copié par Z. «in horto prope domum Καββαθᾶ» et la stèle IG XII 9, 591 – de même provenance – ont également disparu. Plus récemment, d’après l’inventaire du Musée (ME 18114), cette maison a encore livré une base chorégique de provenance oropienne (Petrakos 1997, n° 517). 62 En tout cas, elle est absente de la liste de concordance établie par V. Petrakos en 1974 (cf. supra n. 18). Ziebarth n’en avait pas non plus déposé d’estampage à l’Académie de Berlin. 63 Qui renvoyait à Tomaschek 1894, 34. Les attestations épigraphiques de cet ethnique ne sont pas nombreuses et ne paraissent guère avoir retenu l’attention (pas d’article « Sapaioi » dans la RealEncyclopädie de Pauly-Wissowa, ni dans Der Kleine Pauly ou Der Neue Pauly). Pour une mention de la Σαπαϊκή dans l’épigramme IGBulg. III 1794, cf. J. Bousquet, BÉ 1988, n° 47. 64 Cf. Hatzopoulos 1996, I, 185, avec la n. 6 où est allégué un passage d’Appien, Bell. Civ. 6.87, faisant mention des Sapaioi et du royaume de Raskoupolis (sic), de même qu’un document de la cité de Philippes susceptible de régler définitivement, selon lui, « the interminable controversy on the location of the defile of the Sapaioi » (placé souvent à tort au-delà du Nestos, prétendue frontière de la Macédoine avec la Thrace).

  Denis Knoepfler pendant près d’un demi-siècle en divers répertoires,65 Ion I. Russu66 eut le mérite, en 1950, de reconnaître dans les premières lettres copiées par l’épigraphiste allemand l’élément Aulo(u)-, qui entre dans la composition de plusieurs anthroponymes ; il retrouvait ainsi le nom Αυλο(υ)ζελμις, dès alors attesté par quelques exemples. Cette lecture faite un peu confidentiellement dans un périodique bulgare fut aussitôt répercutée par le Bulletin épigraphique, où L. Robert la rapportait d’abord de manière en quelque sorte neutre,67 ne l’approuvant expressément qu’un peu plus tard.68 Depuis, la lecture de Russu a été entérinée aussi bien dans le tome IV du Lexicon of Greek Personal Names69 que dans le tout récent Onomasticon Thracicum de Dan Dana.70 Quant à l’anthroponyme indigène Ἀρτίδονις – dont la lecture n’avait pas fait pas difficulté – il demeure d’une grande rareté dans toute l’aire thraco-macédonienne, soit sous cette forme même (gén. -ιος), soit avec l’orthographe Ἀρτήδονις (gén. -εος) en Péonie.71 4. Épitaphe inédite d’un Thrace. Deux fragments jointifs d’une stèle à fronton non découpé sur le fond (type II C’ dans la typologie de Dunant 1978, 22); remployés séparément dans une vieille demeure en ruine du village d’Eretria (Maison Phourmouzis, aujourd’hui disparue)72 située au nord des « Bains du Port »), ils ont été trouvés par le soussigné à des dates différentes, celui de droite dès 1976, celui de g. seulement en 1981, date à laquelle les deux morceaux réunis furent estampés (fig. 6a). Dimensions : 0,25 m (haut. max. cons.), 0,335 m (largeur complète), 0,06 m (ép.) ; h. des lettres 1,8

 65 Ainsi chez Launey 1949, 1203 (où aucun autre Sapaien n’est recensé) ; encore chez Detchew 1957, 152. 66 Russu 1950, 58–59 n° 3 (non vidi). 67 BÉ 1951, n° 57 : Russu « tire de la copie de Ziebarth, ΑΙΔΟΖΕΛΜΙΣ, non Διλιζελμις, comme l’éditeur, mais Αὐλοζελμις ». 68 L’approbation est en revanche explicite dans l’« index commenté des noms de personnes » publié en annexe à Firatlı 1964, 159, à propos du nom Διλιπορις, attesté en Bithynie seulement : « je veux signaler que Διλιζελμις est enregistré par Detchev 1957, 152, d’après un seul témoignage, une épitaphe d’Érétrie ; or Russu avait montré en 1950 qu’il fallait reconnaître le nom Αὐλουζελμις ». Pour l’élément Αυλου, voir aussi Robert 1963, 114, dans un développement sur les « noms thraces », où Robert sut détecter l’anthroponyme « Αυλοκεντος, Aulucentus » méconnu dans une inscription de Phrygie : « chacun des deux éléments du nom est des plus fréquents dans les noms thraces, -κενθος et Αυλου », avec renvoi à Detschew 1957, 37. 69 LGPN IV, s. v. Αὐλούζελμς n° 3. Οn notera que le nom Αὐλούζενις est bien plus fréquemment attesté, avec pas moins de 70 occurrences, la plupart en Thrace. 70 Dana 2014, 17–18 (sans renvoi à L. Robert). Cf. aussi Corsten 2016, 1199 : « Ce nom (Αὐλούζελμς) est d’origine thrace ; deux exemples viennent de Thrace même (un d’eux attesté en Eubée) ». 71 LGPN IV s. vv. (3 ex. au total, dont celui de la stèle d’Érétrie sous le n° 2). Cf. Dana 2014, 9, avec la mention de notre stèle, sans autre référence pour ce nom. 72 Cette maison disparut complètement dès la fin du siècle dernier, d’où son absence dans l’excellente étude de Pajor 2006.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

cm; interl. 0,5 cm (Musée d’Érétrie, inv. général ME 10330 ; inv. suisse M 606). Demeurés ensuite séparés dans les réserves du Musée, les deux morceaux n’ont été à nouveau réunis et photographiés ensemble qu’en 2019 (fig. 6b). Μ̣ έ ν α ν δ ρ ο ς [Ἑβ]ρο?[υ]ζέλμιδος [Θ ρ ] ᾶ ι ξ Plus de quarante ans après la découverte du premier fragment, c’est l’occasion de publier ce petit document resté inédit, mais dont le texte avait été communiqué aussitôt à divers savants intéressés par l’histoire ou l’onomastique de la Thrace hellénistique.73 La lecture de l’idionyme – purement grec et fort répandu à partir du IIIe siècle74 – est certaine (seule l’initiale ayant presque complètement disparu), et la restititution de l’ethnique ne peut faire le moindre doute. Pour ce qui est du patronyme, on a affaire à coup sûr, ici aussi, à un composé en -ζελμις, dont le premier élément, plus mutilé, ne paraît pouvoir être lu et restitué que comme [Ἑβ]ρο[υ]-,75 bien attesté lui aussi dans l’anthroponymie thrace.76 Sous sa forme classique Ἑβϱύζελμις, le nom est ainsi porté, on le sait, par plusieurs souverains de la dynastie odryse. C’est donc un nouveau témoignage sur la présence de soldats d’origine thrace dans les garnisons macédoniennes de l’Eubée (dont la composition ne devait guère différer de celles de Démétrias et de l’Attique).77 Au Musée de Chalcis, deux épitaphes témoignent de la présence, sinon d’indigènes thraces, du moins de ressortissants des villes de la côte

 73 Ainsi Louis Robert, Christian Habicht et Michael Wörrle, puis Olivier Masson et plus tard Dan Dana. 74 On sait que le nom de Μένανδρος a pu être porté par d’illustres étrangers hellénisés, tel le roi indogrec Ménandre. 75 La 1ère lettre conservée après le rhô semble être un omikron bien plutôt qu’un upsilon, pour lequel il y a ensuite la place avant le zèta initial – partiellement conservé – du second élément. Αβλουζελμις – attesté dans l’onomastique thrace d’Égypte – semble en revanche exclu. 76 Voir Dana 2014, 17–18. Dans un plus récent article intitulé « Onomastic Interactions : Greek and Thracian Names », = Dana 2019, 166–194, ce spécialiste a marqué que, pour lui, « there is no link between the Thracian names in Εβρ- and the river Hebrus » (p. 183 n. 79). 77 La liste dressée par Launey 1949, 1191–1202, n’enregistrait certes encore aucun « Thrace » en Eubée (mis à part l’Agriane et le Sapéen des deux stèles rééditées ci-dessus n° 2–3), mais en recensait déjà quelques-uns à Démétrias et surtout un très grand nombre à Athènes d’après la fameuse liste IG II2 1956, l. 1–46, pour la date de laquelle (vers 300 av. J.-C.) cf. Habicht 2006, 100–101.

  Denis Knoepfler thrace : l’une est un cippe trouvé il y a un demi-siècle à l’est de la ville78 pour un citoyen d’Ainos (Διοσκουρίδης Βενδιφάνου Αἴνιος),79 l’autre une stèle beaucoup plus récemment apparue, où l’ethnique – d’abord méconnu – est à coup sûr celui de la petite cité de Zônè,80 voisine de Maronée (Σατυρνίων Δέρκωνος Ζωναῖος). À Érétrie même, on connaissait déjà une Ματα Μανιτου Θρᾶιττα dont le nom (comme aussi le patronyme) – qui paraît bien devoir être lu Ματα (fig. 7a), et non pas Ματ[ί]α avec Ziebarth (IG XII 9, 813)81 – avait attiré l’attention de quelques spécialistes de l’onomastique thrace.82 Plus récemment V. Petrakos et Chr. Dunant ont ajouté l’un et l’autre une pièce à cet ensemble, le premier publiant la stèle d’une femme thrace – qui certes ne devait pas s’appeler Εὐνο[μία],83 mais tout simplement (compte tenu de la place très restreinte disponible à droite) Εὐνο[ία] vel Εὐνό[α] Θρᾶιττ[α] (fig. 7b) –, la seconde restituant avec vraisemblance une épitaphe mutilée pour une [Μαν?]ία [Θρᾶι]ττα qualifiée de χρηστή.84 Pour juger du statut de la plupart de ces femmes

 78 La pierre vient en effet de Néa Lampsakos, en bordure de la plaine lélantine : cf. Choremis 1971, 260 et pl. 231γ (Παναγίτσα) ; cf. J. et L. Robert, BÉ 1974, n° 440 (pas dans SEG). J’avais revu la stèle à Chalcis en 1976. C’est l’occasion de signaler que l’épitaphe de Styra avec les noms Ἄμυθος Κρίτου et Ὀρίλλα Πείθου (publiée par le même archéologue en p. 263 ; cf. BÉ 1974, n° 439) est amputée à g. et doit donc être lue [Παρ]άμυθος [- - -]κρίτου et [Π?]όριλλα [e. g. Διο]πείθου (cf. LGPN I. s. v. Παράμυθος n° 2) ; le nom de femme, de toute façon très rare, pourrait avoir été affecté par le rhotacisme (ainsi Κτήριλλα) ; sur ces noms en -ιλλα, cf. Masson 1990, 559. 79 Cf. LGPN IV, s. v. Διοσκουρίδης n° 166 et s. v. Βενδιφάνης n° 1. Pour ce composé remarquable, très peu répandu, voir Masson 1988 (= Masson 1990, 605–611, en particulier 606, n° 3b). À Érétrie même est attesté (Dunant 1978, 33–34 n° 39 ; pour cette épitaphe avec trois noms de femme, cf. infra n. 94) un composé plus curieux encore, Ζηνίβενδις (cf. BÉ 1979, 349), que Masson 1990, 607, ne tenait cependant pas pour un nom spécialement thrace. 80 Karapaschalidou 2001–2004, 262, où l’éditrice lisait ΙΩΝΑΙΟΣ : cf. D. Knoepfler, BÉ 2012, n° 239 (d’où SEG LIX 981) + BÉ 2014, n° 243. Si le nom Σατυρνίων était déjà connu en Grèce du Nord, Δέρκων semble en revanche nouveau dans cette région (au vu du LGPN IV). On relèvera ici la publication par la même archéologue d’une stèle de Chalcis pour un habitant de la Maiôtide (Mer d’Azof), Γέλων Μαιώτης (SEG LVI 1025). 81 J’ai revu, photographié et estampé l’inscription en 1974 (ME 1279) : on comprend que l’éditeur des IG ait été tenté d’admettre une lettre manquante, car l’espace laissé entre le tau et l’alpha est plus considérable que pour les lettres précédentes, comme si le lapicide s’était rendu compte qu’il disposait de plus de place que prévu. Blinkenberg 1891, 168 n° 174, lisait et restituait déjà Ματ[ί]α, mais avec un signe de doute dans l’index. 82 Ainsi Detschew 1957, 291. Cf. aussi Robert 1960a, en particulier 54 avec la n. 13 : « On peut alléguer ce texte quelle que soit la lettre disparue », car la racine Ματ- est « commune à plusieurs aires onomastiques sans contact » (cf. BÉ 1961, n° 101). Dana 2014, 221, a adopté avec un signe de doute la lecture Μάτα, comme déjà les auteurs du LGPN IV s. v. n° 3. 83 Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 74 (ME 965). Cf. J. et L. Robert, BÉ 1969, n° 456 ; LGPN IV s. v. n° 1, avec un signe de doute pour le nom, pas autrement attesté dans la sphère thraco-macédonienne. De fait, comme on peut le constater, il n’y a en tout cas pas place pour un mu avant la désinence en -(ι)α. 84 Dunant 1978, 57 n° 174 (cf. SEG XXVIII 725 ; pas dans BÉ 1979, no 349).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

thraces, ou assimilées à des Thraces, il est assez significatif de constater que l’ethnique même a bien souvent servi de noms attribués à de probables esclaves, en fonction de leur origine réelle ou supposée : on en avait des exemples en diverses cités voisines,85 mais pas en Eubée même (au témoignage du précieux Lexicon of Greek Personal Names). En réalité, dès l’automne 1977, les fouilles suisses avaient livré un cas particulièrement probant, puisque cette stèle intacte porte, en belles lettres du IVe siècle gravées sur un bandeau réservé, l’inscription Θρᾶιττα | χρηστή (fig. 8),86 assez révélatrice du statut de la dénommée Thratta. Mais cette stèle ne put être introduite à temps par l’inventrice dans sa publication des épitaphes parue l’année suivante, ce qui suffit à expliquer qu’elle soit demeurée inédite jusqu’à ce jour.87 5. Épitaphe d’un Étolien. Musée d’Érétrie (inv. ME 1045). Stèle à fronton Petrakos 1968, 109 n° 64 (sans photo); revue, photographiée et estampée en 1973 et plus tard (fig. 9). Le texte de cette inscription soigneusement gravée (« γραφὴ πολὺ ἐπιμελής ») est présenté ainsi par l’éditeur : Σ τ ρ ά τ αγ ο ς Δορκίνα Αἰτωλὸς Ἀρίστωνος Frappé sans doute, et à juste titre, par le caractère non eubéen des formes nominales (conservation de l’alpha long, génitif masculin en -α) aux lignes 1–2 et par la présence d’un ethnique en guise d’anthroponyme, l’éditeur a jugé qu’il devait « s’agir vraisemblablement d’Érétriens d’origine étrangère » (trad. du grec), l’un, Στράταγος, étant fils de Δορκίνας, l’autre, Αἰτωλός, ayant pour père un Ἀρίστων. De fait, comme le relevèrent aussitôt J. et L. Robert en citant cette observation, « les deux premiers noms sont bien attestés en Étolie, région vers laquelle, à peu près, oriente le troisième nom ».88 Mais on s’expliquerait mal, dans cette interprétation, que le nom du second défunt ait été gravé sur la même ligne que le patronyme du premier ; d’autre part, si l’écriture peut, de prime abord, paraître uniforme d’un bout à l’autre de l’inscription (avec, notamment, un sigma aux branches divergentes tant aux lignes 1–2 qu’à la

 85 Plusieurs exemples de Θρᾶιττα à Athènes (LGPN II, s. v. n° 1–8). Pour la Béotie, outre LGPN III.B, s. v. n° 1–2 (Oropos et Tanagra), voir Fragiadakis 2007 (sur cette étude cf. D. Knoepfler, BÉ 2011, n° 287). 86 C’est le 3 sept. 1977 que Christiane Dunant avait apporté au Musée (inv. suisse M 785) cette stèle qui se trouvait remployée dans la pièce X de l’Édifice Sud (pour son emplacement, voir Dunant 1978, plan hors texte). Dimensions : haut. 0,62 m, larg. (croissante) 0,32–34 m, ép. 0,7–8 m. 87 Inédite également est une stèle hellénistique à fronton non sculpté portant le seul nom Θρᾶιττα (parvenue au Musée en 1981) ; de même une petite stèle à bandeau (inv. ME 1059), examinée en 1973, portant le diminutif Θραϊσκυλίς. 88 BÉ 1969, n° 455.

  Denis Knoepfler ligne 3), une lettre, en revanche, présente une différence de taille – c’est le cas de le dire ! – entre le début et la fin de l’inscription : c’est l’omikron, remarquablement petit et « suspendu » dans les deux premières lignes, de hauteur semblable aux autres lettres à la dernière (même chose pour l’oméga) ; et un contraste tout aussi net s’observe, à l’examen, entre les deux exemples de rhô – muni d’une boucle très réduite – que fournissent les lignes 1–2 et celui, plus commun, qui figure à la ligne 3. En outre, lorsque l’attention est alertée, on ne peut manquer de déceler près du bord droit de la stèle, au niveau de la ligne 2, des traces d’une gravure plus ancienne, à tout le moins un Ω et un Ν (et sans doute un X vers le milieu). Bref, il paraît certain – comme j’en eus la conviction dès le jour où il me fut possible d’examiner la stèle au Musée en mai 1973 – que l’on a affaire, en réalité, à deux épitaphes en partie superposées. L’une est clairement celle d’un étranger et plus précisément d’un Étolien, Στράταγοs Δορκίνα Αἰτωλός. De fait, les noms Στράταγοs et Δορκίνας sont fort bien attestés en Étolie : c’est donc tout naturellement que, sur mon indication, ces deux Étoliens ont été enregistrés en tant que tels dans le tome III.A (1997) du Lexicon of Greek Personal Names, consacré notamment à la Grèce de l’Ouest.89 Si le personnage lui-même ne paraît pas pouvoir être retrouvé dans les inscriptions actuellement connues de son pays d’origine, on l’identifiera, sans difficulté, à un mercenaire ayant dû servir dans la garnison royale installée à Érétrie vers le milieu du IIIe siècle av. J.-C. déjà : au surplus, il n’est pas le premier Étolien dont on ait la mention, littéraire ou épigraphique, dans les armées macédoniennes et en Eubée même.90 Quant au premier défunt de la stèle, [Αἴσχρ?]ων Ἀρίστωνος – dont le nom était formé avec le même suffixe, très courant, que celui de son père – il devait être un citoyen érétrien91 ayant vécu au plus tard vers 300 av. J.-C., date que paraissent recommander non seulement le style de la gravure et le type du support (une stèle à fronton encore peu élaborée), mais aussi la présence d’un patronyme, usage qui ne s’impose guère en Eubée centrale avant la seconde moitié du IVe siècle.92 6. Épitaphe d’un Perse. Musée d’Érétrie (inv. ME 947). Stèle publiée par Petrakos 1968, 102 n° 7 (sans photo) ; pierre revue, photographiée et estampée en 1974 (fig. 10). Ἀγάθων Πέρσης

 89 S. vv. Δορκίνας n° 1 (+ 7 autres ex. pour l’Étolie et l’Acarnanie) et Στράταγος n° 1 (+ 8 autres ex. pour la seule Étolie). 90 Voir ci-dessus p. 47 et n. 13. Dans la liste des Étoliens dressée par Launey 1949, 1135–1137, on observe que beaucoup d’entre eux occupent des postes de commandement. 91 Je l’ai fait introduire dans LGPN I s. v. Ἀρίστων n° 113, en suggérant une identification possible avec Αἴσχρων Ἀρίστωνος (LGPN I s. v. n° 125) dans le catalogue IG XII 9, 246A 118 (début du IIIe siècle). 92 Voir nos réflexions dans Ackermann/Knoepfler 2017, 205–208.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

À la différence de la précédente, cette épitaphe est parfaitement homogène dans sa gravure. Théoriquement, on pourrait avoir affaire à deux anthroponymes mis l’un audessous de l’autre au nominatif. Telle est (ou était) l’opinion de l’éditeur, qui a suggéré qu’il pourrait s’agir de deux frères, puisqu’ils auraient partagé le même tombeau.93 Le caractère parfaitement hellénique du nom Ἀγάθων et l’existence d’un célèbre Πέρσης grec – frère (faut-il le rappeler ?) du poète Hésiode (Op. 10) et par là voisin de l’Eubée – ont dû orienter l’exégèse de l’honorandus vers cette interprétation. Mais à l’époque encore haute du document, il est tout à fait exceptionnel, dans l’épigraphie funéraire d’Érétrie, que la même stèle serve pour deux ou plusieurs défunts,94 mis à part, bien entendu, les cas de remploi (dont on vient d’avoir un bel exemple) : sur ce point, l’usage eubéen paraît avoir été passablement différent de celui que l’on observe sur maintes stèles de Béotie.95 Le second nom de la stèle doit donc être tenu, bien plutôt, pour un ethnique.96 De fait, on a de nombreux exemples, à Érétrie même, de stèles où l’ethnique n’est précédé, comme ici, que du nom du défunt, sans mention du patronyme (qui pouvait être bien souvent inconnu de ceux à qui incombait le soin des funérailles) : ainsi, dans les deux volets de la série publiée par Vassilios Petrakos lui-même, Λάχης Ἀθηναῖος, Νικοκλῆς Ἀθηναῖος, Κοριφὼ Θεβήα, Πάτρων Κεφαλλάν (voir p. 48–49), sans parler de très nombreux autres cas disséminés dans le corpus érétrien. On pourrait certes, de prime abord, se montrer surpris que des « Perses » parfaitement hellénisés aient résidé dans une ville de la Vieille Grèce dès les alentours de 300 av. J.-C. (car c’est bien à cette date haute qu’à en juger par le type du support et par le style de la gravure, la stèle en question a les meilleures chances de remonter, comme l’a vu l’éditeur en proposant la 1ère moitié du IIIe siècle). Mais il est désormais bien établi que des gens d’Asie Mineure, voire des Orientaux, ont séjourné ou du

 93 V. Petrakos s’est tenu à cette opinion en publiant quelques années plus tard la stèle d’un « Mysien » (voir ci-après n° 6). 94 Dans le lot de 1978, on ne relevait que deux cas aisément explicables : dans l’un (Dunant 1978, n° 39), il s’agissait vraisemblablement de trois esclaves (dont au moins une femme de Thrace : cf. supra n. 79) ; dans l’autre (n° 161) des membres d’une même famille citoyenne, avec mention exceptionnelle du démotique. Les deux noms sont côte à côte sur la stèle (autrefois peinte) IG XII 9, 683. Par ailleurs, c’est surtout à la basse époque hellénistique, quand l’usage du patronyme s’est depuis longtemps généralisé, que l’on a des cas de stèles dressées pour plus d’un défunt : ainsi Petrakos 1968, 107 n° 48 pour un couple ; Petrakos 1974, 102 n° 12 (SEG XXVII 592) pour un père et son fils. D’autres exemples déjà dans IG XII 9, 571, 589, 601, 612, 688 et 732, sans parler d’un certain nombe d’inédits. 95 Pour un nouvel exemple dès l’époque classique, voir Kalliontzis 2014, 15 sqq. n° 8 (cf. BÉ 2015, n° 279). 96 On aurait voulu avoir là-dessus l’opinion de J. et L. Robert, mais il se trouve que dans leurs notices consacrées à cette publication, BÉ 1969, n° 449 sqq., la stèle en question n’a pas été mentionnée, omission sans doute involontaire (compte tenu de son intérêt incontestable), due simplement au fait que, classée par l’éditeur parmi les épitaphes dépourvues de patronyme (recensées pour la plupart sous le n° 456) ou d’ethnique (liste sous le n° 457), elle pouvait aisément passer inaperçue.

  Denis Knoepfler moins voyagé en Eubée centrale dès l’époque d’Alexandre : ainsi à Chalcis une belle stèle peinte a fait connaître naguère un Syrien d’Arbèle ;97 à Érétrie, on recense depuis longtemps non seulement des gens d’Antioche98 mais aussi de probables mercenaires venus d’Aspendos ou d’Etenna en Cilicie et, plus loin, de Marathous ;99 une stèle inédite fait connaître un habitant de Tyr.100 J’avais repéré moi-même, dans le village moderne, l’épitaphe – publiée ensuite par les soins de Christiane Dunant101 – d’un Phénicien, Ἐργασίων Φοῖνιξ, sans doute un esclave, à en juger par cet ethnique régional et par son nom même102 (parfaitement grec au demeurant). Assurément, le Perse de l’épitaphe d’Érétrie ne devait pas avoir grand-chose de commun avec les sujets de Darius le Grand venus attaquer cette ville à la veille de Marathon! Car rien n’indique qu’il ait été de souche authentiquement iranienne, encore que des Perses installés en Asie Mineure auraient pu arriver en Eubée dans les bagages d’un officier ayant participé à une expédition menée en Orient par les premiers Antigonides (comme ce fut le cas, peut-être, pour d’autres personnes réduites en esclavage à l’occasion d’une razzia : ainsi, à Érétrie même, une femme de Gaza en Palestine, Ἀρτεμισία Γαζαία,103 ou une Arménienne, Σωφρόνα Ἀρμενία).104 Il paraît plus économique, en effet, d’admettre que cet Agathon était lui aussi un membre de la garnison gréco-macédonienne, faisant partie éventuellement d’un corps spécialisé d’archers ou de cavaliers qui auraient été collectivement désignés comme Persai : de fait, à propos d’un Persès reconnu par lui dans une liste de mercenaires à Tralles au IIIe siècle av. J.-C.,105 L. Robert alléguait globalement « ces Perses que les historiens

 97 Selon la lecture que j’ai proposée dans BÉ 2014, n° 243 (cf. SEG LXII 623). 98 Voir ci-dessus p. 49 et n. 23. 99 Respectivement IG XII Suppl. 630 (Aspendos), IG XII 9, 826 (Etenna) et 818 (Marathous). 100 Musée d’Érétrie (ME 18099) : Σκόπος Τύριος (gravure un peu grêle, mais disposée stoichédon, des alentours de 300 av. J.-C.). 101 Dunant 1978, 58 n° 185 (SEG XXVIII 725, pour l’ensemble des épitaphes avec ethnique). 102 Cf. J. et L. Robert, BÉ 1979, n° 349 : « Nous croyons que l’ethnique “Phénicien“, et non pas Sidonien, Tyrien, etc. , signifie que l’homme était de la campagne, des villages indigènes (…) ; le nom Ἐργασίων permet alors, sans l’imposer, d’y voir un esclave » (exégèse acceptée dans SEG XXVIII 725 : « a slave from the Phoenician country side ») ; à Érétrie même, où ce nom ne semble pas avoir été porté par des citoyens, on le trouve pour un personnage caractérisé comme χρηστός (IG XII 875 ; cf. LGPN I, s. v. n° 6) ; pour la valeur de cette épithète comme critère social dans l’épigraphie funéraire érétrienne, voir Ackermann/Knoepfler 2017, 203 avec les notes. 103 Dunant 1978, 55 n° 168 ; cf. SEG XXVIII 725 (« a slave ? »). On notera que cette épitaphe d’une femme de Gaza est passée sous silence par les Robert, BÉ loc. cit., suite à une omission certainement involontaire, car dans la notice même consacrée à ce lot, ils rappellent leur principe de « relever systématiquement les ethniques ». 104 Dunant 1978, 55 n° 166 ; cf. Robert, BÉ 1979, 349 : « sans doute une esclave de l’Arménie » ; SEG XXVIII 725 (« perhaps a slave ? »). 105 Robert 1936, 96 (= Robert 2007, 466 + photo d’estampage), où est rééditée la liste CIG 2919b (Le Bas – Waddington 599b), avec en ligne 16 un Βλόστος Ἀργανταβάτου Πέρ[σης]: fondée sur l’origine

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

mentionnent dans les armées des Diadoques » (en renvoyant à Diodore 18.51 et 19.60.2). On sait par ailleurs combien sont nombreux, dans les sources documentaires de l’Égypte lagide, les personnages désignés comme « Persai » – y compris un Ἀγάθων Πέρσης ! – alors qu’ils portent, au IIIe siècle déjà, des noms parfaitement grecs :106 c’est que, dès cette époque et dans ce pays, « le mot a perdu sa coloration ethnique ».107 Il est vrai que, même dans la Grèce de l’Est, les défunts expressément qualifiés de « Perses » paraissent assez rares : notre maître n’en relevait qu’un tout petit nombre,108 et je ne sache pas qu’en Grèce propre – Athènes mise à part109 – il y en ait des exemples assurés en dehors de cette remarquable épitaphe érétrienne: elle méritait donc de sortir de l’oubli dans lequel une double mauvaise chance bibliographique l’avait reléguée. 7. Épitaphe d’un Mysien. Partie supérieure d’une stèle à fronton. Musée d’Erétrie (inv. ME 2181). Petrakos 1974, 103 n° 18 et fig. 70α (SEG XXVII 588). Copiée, photographiée et estampée par le soussigné en juin 1974, alors que – trouvée en 1969 dans des fouilles conduites par Petros G. Thémélis – elle était encore inédite (fig. 11). Ἀμύντας Μυσός À cette garnison devait appartenir également le Mysien dont l’épitaphe a été publiée – non sans mérite, car cette sobre épitaphe du IIIe siècle av. J.-C. ne se lit plus qu’avec peine – par V. Petrakos dans son supplément de 1974. Ici aussi,110 l’éditeur s’est montré enclin à reconnaître des frères – ou du moins deux personnes distinctes – dans les noms associés, alors qu’une telle interprétation n’est de loin pas la plus naturelle – on l’a constaté ci-dessus (n° 5) – dans l’épigraphie funéraire d’Érétrie. En  iranienne du patronyme, la restitution de l’ethnique est due à ce savant, qui a été également le premier à reconnaître la nature de ce catalogue. 106 Liste chez Launay 1949, 1245 sqq. (d’où sont exclus « les Perses membres de l’épigonè, domiciliés en Égypte ») ; cf. Fraser, GET, 141. Pour leur place dans les armées lagides, voir maintenant FischerBovet 2014, 192 sqq. : « Perses, first of all, was often used, because it was tied to the military status of misthophoroi » (p. 194). 107 M. Sève, BÉ 2018, n° 158, à propos de Tsaravopoulos 2016. 108 Robert 1936, 97 n. 4 (= Robert 2007, 466 n. 147) : une épitaphe à Chypre (Myers 1897, 173 n. 7 : Άγαθοκλῆς Μάκρωνος Πέρσης) et une autre à Rhodes (IG XII 1, 519 : Ἕρμων Πέρσης χρηστὸς χαῖρε). 109 Deux exemples seulement dans IG II2, 10075–10076 (une Περσίς et un Πέρσης); pas de cas nouveau chez Osborne 1988, 5–60. 110 L’éditeur considérait en effet avec faveur l’hypothèse qu’il pût s’agir de l’épitaphe de deux frères, puisque l’ethnique Μυσός est également attesté comme anthroponyme, en renvoyant, pour de tels noms, à J. et et L. Robert, BÉ 1939, n° 13, et BÉ 1968, n° 264. Mais ce n’est pas la solution retenue en l’occurrence par ces savants, dont je partage l’avis sans hésitation. Il en allait de même dans le cas de l’ethnique Πέρσης (même si les auteurs du Bulletin n’avaient pas eu l’occasion de se prononcer làdessus : cf. supra n. 96).

  Denis Knoepfler l’occurrence, le nom Ἀμύντας, d’origine clairement macédonienne,111 paraît indiquer que l’individu en question, sans être à proprement parler un homme originaire de la Mysie,112 se rattachait vraisemblablement à ces colons dits Myso-Macédoniens qui peuplèrent des établissements militaires aux alentours de Pergame, telle la ville d’Apollonis de Lydie : de fait, L. Robert avait eu précédemment l’occasion d’y mentionner de nombreux exemples de noms macédoniens, dont – à l’époque de Cicéron encore113 – un Amyntas précisément. En Grèce propre, ces « Mysiens » sont connus avant tout, on le sait, par le long catalogue des mercenaires du roi Attale honorés à Delphes par les gens de Lilaia de Phocide.114 Or, on a pu écrire non sans raison de ces quelques dizaines de soldats qualifiés là de Mysoi qu’ils portaient en réalité un | « pseudo-ethnique »,115 à la manière des cavaliers dits « tarentins » ou « thessaliens », dans la mesure où leur véritable origine était bien plutôt – au vu de l’onomastique – la Macédoine ou la Thrace : le fait qu’un officier puisse être désigné à Lilaia en tant que « commandant des Mysiens », τῶν Μυσῶν ἡγεμών, paraît tout à fait probant à cet égard. Force est cependant de constater que si ces quelques dizaines de mercenaires « mysiens » ont été dûment enregistrés – sous la rubrique « Mysia? » – dans le premier des trois volumes du Lexicon of Greek Personal Names portant sur l’Asie Mineure côtière,116 ce ne paraît pas avoir été le cas – sauf omission de notre part – de cet Amyntas de la stèle d’Érétrie, bien que J. et L. Robert aient vu d’emblée que c’était « un soldat du corps des Mysiens, infanterie légère »,117 soit que ce personnage ait été regardé (dans le sillage de V. Petrakos) comme un Eubéen de souche, frère d’un certain Mysos, soit que, plus probablement sans doute, cette mention tout à fait isolée d’un Myso-Macédonien en Eubée ait échappé à l’attention des éditeurs de ce volume.  111 Un Ἀμύντας portant l’ethnique Μακεδών figure par les épitaphes érétriennes (IG XII Suppl. 634: cf. Tataki 1998, 236 n° 111 ; LGPN IV, s. v. n° 32). 112 Bien plutôt que de Mésie à cette date, même si la forme Μυσός – à côté de Μοισός – est bien attestée pour désigner les habitants de ce pays danubien : voir là-dessus l’article de M. Slavova (paru dans un volume en 2015 à Sofia) qu’analyse A. Avram, BÉ 2016, n° 317. 113 Robert 1962, 249–252, avec renvoi au Pro Flacco 72–73 pour cet Amyntas princeps civitatis. cf. aussi p. 276 n. 1 in fine pour la « ville des Mysomacédoniens » dans le Tmôlos ; dans l’index, l’auteur renvoyait à BÉ 1950, n° 25 et à Robert 1960b, 556. Sur ces Mysiens soldats dans les armées du royaume de Pergame, voir maintennt Ma 2013 (cf. BÉ 2014, n° 394). 114 Flacelière 1954, 132–135 ; cf. Moretti 1976, 29 n° 81 (texte du décret, sans le catalogue). 115 Voir Masson 1993, qui, au vu de l’onomastique orientant souvent vers la Macédoine et la Thrace plutôt que vers l’Asie Mineure, aboutissait à la conclusion que « les soldats réunis à Lilaia sous l’étiquette globale de “Mysiens” portent un pseudo-ethnique ». Cf. GET, 94–95 (Ethnics of Mercenaries) ; Fraser, chose curieuse, ne cite pas l’article de Masson, même s’il adopte par ailleurs (ainsi pour l’Égypte ptolémaïque : cf. p. 141) le terme de « pseudo-ethnique », déjà utilisé, il est vrai, par les papyrologues : voir maintenant Fischer-Bovet 2014, 192 sqq. (à propos des « Mysiens »). 116 Voir l’introduction de Th. Corsten, LGPN V.A, xii : « A few words have to be added concerning those soldiers designated as “ Mysoi ” , most notably in the long honorific decrees of c. 208 (…) set up by the city of Lilaia », avec la bibliographie essentielle. 117 BÉ 1974, n° 440 (cité par H.W. Pleket, SEG XXVII 588).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

8. Épitaphe d’une Béotienne. Musée d’Erétrie (inv. ME 952). Stèle publiée par Petrakos 1968, 108 n° 52 (sans photo) ; pierre revue, photographiée et estampée en juillet 1974. Il s’agit sans doute d’un remploi, mais il ne reste rien de l’épitaphe primitive (fig. 12). Καβιρίχα Μοιρίχου χαῖρε Cette épitaphe, gravée de manière passablement négligée, ne porte assurément pas d’ethnique et n’est donc point à ranger, formellement parlant, parmi les épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères. Mais il paraît néanmoins hors de doute que cette femme était d’origine béotienne. Les noms formés sur celui des Dieux Kabires sont caractéristiques de la Béotie, tandis qu’ils sont exceptionnels en Eubée.118 Le suffixe -ιχος n’est pas moins typique de cette région, sans parler de la désinence en -α (alors que l’on aurait attendu un nom en -η si cette femme, née au plus tôt vers le IIe siècle av. J.-C., avait eu des parents érétriens). Certes, le même suffixe, avec la même désinence non-ionienne, est apparu dans la série des stèles mises au jour par la Mission archéologique suisse à partir de 1964 :119 il s’agit, d’une part, de Γνωσίχα (nom alors nouveau) et de Ὀνασίχα (déjà bien attesté alors à Tanagra). On notera d’ailleurs que ces formes n’ont pas subi l’effet du rhotacisme, ce qui souligne encore davantage leur caractère étranger par rapport à l’anthroponymie locale. Au surplus – pour revenir à l’épitaphe discutée ici – le nom masculien Μοίριχος, toujours avec le même suffixe, est aussi fréquent en pays béotien qu’il est rare sur l’autre rive de l’Euripe.120 On tiendra donc Καβιρίχα pour une femme venue de Béotie, mais ayant été assimilée au corps civique, du fait qu’elle était sans doute l’épouse d’un citoyen érétrien. De telles mariages ne devaient pas être rares à Érétrie et à Chalcis, si proches de la côte béotienne. On peut rappeller à ce propos que cette figure emblématique de la cité que fut le philosophe Ménédème avait épousé en secondes noces, vers 290 av. J.-C. une femme d’Oropos (cité alors béotienne),121 dont on ignore malheureusement le nom, de même que sont inconnus, chose assez normale, ceux de leurs trois filles !  118 Cf. Marchand 2011, en particulier 351–352 : « L’Eubée n’a produit pour l’instant qu’un seul anthropoyme de cette famille, à Érétrie, avec une Καβιρίχα, dont le suffice en -ίχα, courant en Béotie, est à mettre évidence » (cf. BÉ 2012, n° 178). Pour les noms de cette racine en Béotie même, voir Schachter 2015, 317 n. 4 ; cf. Knoepfler 2017, 240. 119 Dunant 1978, 30 n° 22 et 39 n° 71. 120 Cf. Marchand 2011, 362 : « une influence de la Béotie sur l’Eubée est perceptible dans la répartition du nom Μοίριχος (Μύριχος ): on en trouve 19 en Béotie (...) et 2 en Eubée» (la stèle discutée ici est l’unique exemple érétrien, l’autre étant fourni par une inscription de Chalcis). Pour le suffixe -ιχος dans ces deux noms, voir maintenant Vottéro 2017, 609–611. 121 Diog. Laert. 2.137. Cf. Knoepfler 1991, 191 ; ce mariage fut sans doute facilité, en l’occurrence, par l’existence très probable d’un traité d’isopoliteia entre Erétrie et Oropos (cf. en dernier lieu Knoepfler 2019, 293 n° 134).

  Denis Knoepfler 9. Épitaphe d’un Alexandrin. Musée d’Érétrie (inv. ME 1005). Stèle publiée par Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 69 (sans photo ; pierre revue et estampée en juin 1975 (fig. 13). Ἀριστοφάνης Κ - - - - - - - - ου Ἀ - - - - - - - ρεύς V. Petrakos n’a pas voulu restituer l’ethnique, mais dans leur Bullletin épigraphique J. et L. Robert ont suggéré de retrouver ici la mention d’un Alexandrin.122 Comme la lecture de l’initiale est sûre, on peut d’emblée écarter, en effet, l’éventualité – a priori envisageable – qu’il puisse s’agir d’un [Κασσανδ]ρεύς.123 En fait, l’ethnique Ἀλεξανδρεύς est à peu près complètement lisible ; et il est même possible, en charbonnant un peu la zone inscrite, de déchiffrer le patronyme du personnage, à savoir Ἱπποσθένους. En outre, si l’on examine de plus près la surface au-dessous de l’épitaphe, on voit qu’il devait y avoir encore deux lignes de texte en lettres plus petites, la seconde seule offrant des vestiges suffisamment clairs pour être partiellement lue. Ce pourrait être le reste d’un distique élégiaque, car il y a bien d’autres exemples, y compris à Érétrie, d’un tel contraste, pour ce qui est de la taille des caractères, entre les lettres de l’épitaphe proprement dite et celles de l’épigramme gravée à la suite.124 On peut donc en fin de compte présenter l’inscription ainsi : Ἀριστοφάνης Ἱπποσθένους Ἀλεξανδρεύς ------------------------ - - - - παροδίτα τόδε [σῆμα ?] Originaire d’une Alexandrie, très probablement celle d’Égypte, le défunt était sans doute un personnage d’une certaine importance, car très rares sont, à Érétrie, les étrangers dont l’épitaphe est ainsi assortie d’une épigramme. Peut-être était-ce un officier qui avait accompagné le stratège Patroklos lorsqu’une flotte lagide, vers 269 av. J.-C., vint

 122 BÉ 1969, « Le n° 69 ne serait-il pas la stèle d’un Ἀ[λεξανδ]ρεύς ?». 123 Pour un citoyen de Kassandreia à Érétrie (IG XII 9, 828), cf. Tataki 1998, 94–96 n° 80 et 94 ; ce personnage n’était pas recensé par Launey 1949, 1170 (liste de Cassandréens). – Une épitaphe parvenue au Musée d’Érétrie en 1981 (inv. ME 13516) et restée inédite se trouve être l’épitaphe de Ἀντίπατρο[ς] (Λ)αμέδοντος Κασσανδρεύς (l. 2 : ΑΑΜΕΔΟΝΤΟΣ lapis). La forme Λαμέδων est attestée dans l’espace thraco-macédonien par un petit nombre d’exemples (cf. LGPN IV s. v. n° 1–2). 124 Ainsi dans la stèle de Démétrios fils de Poseidônios (IG XII 9, 289), ou celle de Lamprothéos fils de Nothippos (IG XII 9, 292) : pour celle de l’Andrien plus récemment publiée, cf. supra n. 15. À Chalcis, voir par exemple l’épigramme SEG XXVII 571 pour un jeune homme d’Éphèse.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

mouiller dans le port d’Érétrie, puis à Rhamnonte, à la veille de la guerre de Chrémonidès.125 Mais il pourrait s’agir également d’un négociant en céréales, le blé ayant été, on le sait, l’une des principales denrées à provenir d’Égypte à l’époque hellénistique. De fait, la collection des épitaphes érétriennes fait connaître deux autres Alexandrins,126 et l’activité professionnelle de l’un d’eux est expressément indiquée : c’était un σιτομέτρης, un mesureur du grain fourni aux cités grecques par les Ptolémées.127 10. Épitaphe d’un Thessalien. Musée d’Érétrie (inv. ME 1069). Stèle publiée par Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 72 (sans photo) ; revue, photographiée et estampée en 1973 (fig. 14). Δέξι[ππος] Ἱππο[- - -] Θεσ[σαλός] Les deux restitutions proposées par l’éditeur sont vraisemblables mais pourraient néanmoins devoir être assorties d’un signe de doute, puisque le nom du défunt a pu être un autre composé formé sur le même premier élément : ainsi Δεξίλαος ou Δεξίβιος (en admettant que la lacune n’ait effectivement comporté de place que pour quatre lettres), mais peut-être un composé à peine plus long comme Δεξίδημος ou Δεξιμένης, voire Δεξικράτης ou Δεξίχαρμος, tous attestés, sinon en Thessalie, du moins en Grèce centrale. D’autre part, si le supplément Θεσ[σαλός] est évidemment très séduisant (car il y a d’autres Thessaliens ou Thessaliennes à Érétrie),128 il n’aurait peut-être pas fallu éliminer trop tôt l’ethnique Θεσ[πιεύς] – ou le ktétique Θεσ[πική] pour une femme – puisque la ville de Thespies, sans être aussi présente que celle de Thèbes dans l’épigraphie funéraire érétrienne, pourrait fort bien y faire un jour son entrée. En fait, pour ce qui est de l’ethnique, la révision de la pierre m’a permis de constater dès 1973 que subsistaient, après le premier sigma, les vestiges d’un second sigma : donc le supplément Θεσσ[αλός vel -αλή] doit être tenu pour certain. La restitution des anthroponymes est plus hasardeuse. Il m’a semblé assez vite aussi qu’une possibilité existait de raccorder ce fragment à une épitaphe érétrienne que Chr. Dunant avait mise au jour dès 1966 dans ses fouilles du Quartier de l’Ouest et qu’elle devait faire connaître dans sa publication de 1978. L’éditrice l’a présenté ainsi, en notant que « la restitution [Θεσσα]λός ne peut être écartée d’emblée, bien qu’elle paraisse un peu longue » :

 125 Cf. Petrakos 1999, 33–34. 126 L’un est IG XII 9, 811 (vers 200, d’après l’écriture), l’autre est mentionné dans la n. suivante. 127 IG XII 9, 815 (stèle perdue) = Pros. Ptol. I n° 180, et VI n° 15900 ; pour le nom du σιτομέτρης et l’interprétation du document, cf. Knoepfler 2001, 314 avec les n. 292–293 (bibliographie). 128 Cf. IG XII 9, 816 (Μυλλένας Θεσσαλός) et 801 (une femme de Skotoussa, début du IVe siècle). Pour une épitaphe inédite, cf. infra p. 78 et n. 160.

  Denis Knoepfler [- - -]λαος [- - -]Ιου [Αἰτω?]λός N’était-il pas clair dès lors qu’en rapprochant les deux morceaux on pouvait reconstituer aisément une épitaphe de la haute époque hellénistique129 pour un Thessalien – et non pas un Étolien – qui se serait appelé Dexilaos et aurait eu pour père (e. g.) un Hippolytos, deux noms forts bien attestés en Thessalie : Δεξίλαος Ἱππo[λύ?]του Θεσσ[α]λός ? Pourtant, dès avant 1978,130 suite à la révision du morceau publié par Chr. Dunant, je fus obligé de constater que les deux fragments présentaient des différences matérielles relativement importantes131 qui, en fin de compte, interdisaient le raccord. Il m’a néanmoins paru intéressant de faire part de cette tentative avortée, pour éviter qu’une proposition dans le même sens soit faite à l’avenir au courant de la plume, sans examen des pierres ; c’est au surplus une petite leçon de prudence, puisque l’hypothèse avait pour elle, sur le plan épigraphique et onomastique, toutes les apparences du vrai ! 11. Épitaphe inédite d’un Magnète. Fragment trouvé par le soussigné en 1974 dans un jardin situé à une centaine de mètres à l’Est de la Maison de l’École suisse, au milieu d’autres remplois antiques. Apporté au Musée (inv. suisse M 539). Dimensions : 0,30 m (haut. max. cons.), 0,275 m (larg. max.), 0,085 m. (ép.) ; haut. des lettres : 3,2 cm (lettres rondes plus petites (fig. 15). [2 - 3]λ ω ν [Διον?]υσίου [Μά]γνης La restitution de l’ethnique est assurée et celle du patronyme très probable.132 Seul l’idionyme reste donc incertain, puisqu’en dépit du très petit espace disponible avant les lettres conservées, les possibilités de restitution sont encore nombreuses, de l’ordre d’une dizaine au moins, même si l’on ne prend en compte que les noms effectivement attestés en Thessalie : ainsi Ἀχέλων, Βάλων, Γέλων, Θέλων, Κέλων, Μέλων,

 129 La date indiquée par l’éditrice, soit le IVe siècle, m’avait semblé un peu haute, comme je lui en fis la remarque dans la lettre citée à la note suivante. L’autre fragment est daté du IIIe siècle par Petrakos : du point de vue chronologique il n’y aurait donc pas incompatibilité entre les deux. 130 C’est ce que je fis savoir à la regrettée Christiane Dunant dans une relecture en date du 18 mai 1978, juste avant l’impression définitive de sa publication, et elle put tenir compte, in extremis, de plusieurs de mes observations : cf. Dunant 1978, 21 n. 1. 131 La plus importante étant que le fragment Petrakos était apparemment dépourvu de fronton. 132 Banal partout, le nom Διονύσιος est évidemment attesté en Magnésie thessalienne, à vrai dire surtout en ville de Démétrias : cf. LGPN III.B. s. v. n° 235–254.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

Ὅπλων, Σόλων, Φίλων, sans oublier les quelques noms à redoublement expressif comme Κάλλων ou Τέλλων. Malgré sa proximité par rapport à l’Eubée, la Magnésie thessalienne133 n’était représentée jusqu’ici à Érétrie (et dans le reste de l’île)134 que par la stèle d’une femme, Φιλοξένη Μάγνησσα (IG XII 9, 935), dont il paraît nécessaire de rappeler l’existence.135 En dépit de son médiocre état de conservation, la nouvelle épitaphe constitue ainsi un témoignage intéressant sur la présence de soldats de la Thessalie méridionale dans la garnison d’Érétrie, car il est très tentant – compte tenu de la date probable de la stèle (IIIe siècle av. J.-C.) – de voir dans ce Magnète un mercenaire au service de la Macédoine.136 12. Épitaphe d’un Crétois. Musée d’Érétrie (inv. ME 973). Fragment publié par Petrakos 1968, 113 n° 92 (sans photo) ; revu, photographié et estampé en 1974 (fig. 16). Χε[- - - - -] Γ[- - - - - -] En dépit de son caractère très fragmentaire, cet angle supérieur gauche d’une stèle à fronton attire l’attention par ce qui subsiste du nom du défunt. En effet, les anthroponymes commençant par les deux lettres ΧΕ sont d’une extrême rareté. On ne trouve même à citer que des noms exclusivement crétois, comme Χένος à Lato.137 Mais l’attestation le plus intéressante – curieusement méconnue dans le LGPN I, où le nom a été malencontreusement banalisé en Ξένων ! – provient précisément d’Érétrie : c’est la stèle IG XII 9, 839, qu’avait copiée l’archégète Christian Blinkenberg à la fin du XIXe siècle (et qu’avait revue Ziebarth en 1908), qui fut enregistrée plus tard comme un  133 Sur ce pays, voir la synthèse récente de Helly 2013, I, en attendant le t. II, qui, traitant de l’époque hellénistique, donnera aussi, espérons-le, la prosopographie externe des Magnètes. 134 Rappelons ici que la stèle d’un Ainiane, c’est-à-dire d’un proche voisin des Magnètes, Μικθίων (sic) Αἰνιάν (IIIe siècle av. J.-C.), avait été découverte près de Chalcis peu après 1950 (« Chronique des fouilles et découvertes archéologiques en Grèce en 1952, dans : BCH 77, 1953, 217 ; cf. LGPN III.B s. v. n° 1). Les Ainianes étaient relativement nombreux dans les garnisons de Démétrias et d’Athènes, cf. Launey 1949, 1133–1134. 135 Cette femme magnète n’a pas été enregistrée, en effet, dans le matériel thessalien du LGPN III.B. s. v. Φιλοξένα, peut-être en raison du caractère équivoque de l’ethnique, pouvant se rapporter aussi – théoriquement du moins – aux cités de Magnésie du Méandre et de Magnésie du Sipyle. Mais les éditeurs du volume ne paraissent pas s’être expliqués sur cette question. Si l’hésitation est parfois légitime (ainsi pour un Magnète du nom de Κάϊκος attesté en Égypte, qui a été catalogué dans LGPN V.A s. v. n° 3, avec signe de doute), il ne semble pas que l’on puisse raisonnablement douter, en l’occurrence, que cette Φιλοξένη morte en Eubée ne soit d’origine thessalienne (la désinence ionenne du nom pouvant être dû à l’environnement ionien du domicile de la défunte). 136 Pour les Magnètes dans les armées hellénistiques, voir Launey 1949, 1144–1145 (une vingtaine d’attestations). Plusieurs Magnètes figurent dans la liste de Tralles commentée par Robert 1936, 96 ; trois sont enregistrés dans le catalogue des garnisaires attalides de Lilaia (cf. supra n. 116). 137 LGPN I (1987), s.v. où ce nom est complètement isolé.

  Denis Knoepfler témoignage remarquable sur le mercenariat des Crétois à l’époque hellénistique et comme exemple de l’attachement de ces soldats à leur petite patrie, en l’occurrence la cité de Dréros :138 X έ ν ω ν Ἑξάκοντος Κρὴς Δρήριος Il ne saurait donc faire le moindre doute que le fragment réédité en 1968 n’est qu’une partie de la stèle publiée dans les IG, puisque la lettre partiellement conservée au début de la ligne 2 correspond à l’initiale du patronyme de la stèle autrefois complète. Au surplus, le fût de cette stèle est toujours conservé dans les réserves du Musée d’Érétrie sous le n° 1046 (fig. 17). À défaut d’avoir pu opérer le raccord effectif des deux morceaux, je donne ici les photographies qui prouvent le caractère incontestable de l’assemblage. 13. Épitaphe d’une Crétoise. Stèle à fronton. Musée d’Érétrie (inv. ME 1291). Revue, photographiée et estampée en 1974 (fig. 18). Si les Crétois, en tant que mercenaires, sont très largement répandus dans le monde hellénistique,139 les Crétoises – comme il est normal – se rencontrent un peu plus rarement, du moins en Vieille Grèce. Un exemple très remarquable existe au Musée de Chalcis depuis longtemps, mais n’a pu être exploité qu’à partir des années 1980, quand – sur la base d’une note et d’une photo que nous leur avions communiquées – Kostis Davaras et Olivier Masson ont pu faire savoir (en appendice à une publication d’épigraphie crétoise)140 que les deux moitiés – repêchées l’une et l’autre dans les eaux de l’Euripe – d’une imposante stèle à anthémion donnaient, une fois raccordées (IG XII 9, 1110+1143), la nomenclature complète d’une femme de Crète à savoir Φύλα | Λαγαρωνίου | Κρῆσσα (le patronyme étant sans doute un hapax).141 À Érétrie même, un cas a été jusqu’ici méconnu. Ziebarth, en effet, avait publié en 1915 – mais seulement d’après l’inventaire du Musée – l’épitaphe d’une femme appelée Ἀριστονόα (IG XII 9, 323). En retrouvant cette inscription en 1974, je constatai qu’il s’agissait d’une stèle assez bien conservée dans l’ensemble (quoique la surface en fût usée), portant

 138 Cf. IC I, IX, 83 (Dreros) : Launey 1949, 1153 ; le défunt de la stèle IG XII 9, 840, est un autre Crétois de Dréros. 139 Voir Launey 1949, 1152–1169, dont la liste serait, bien entendu, à compléter sur la base du matériel épigraphique et papyrologique publié depuis lors. Sur la présence crétoise en Asie Mineure, voir notamment Boulay 2014, index, s.v. Crète. Pour l’Égypte, cf. Fischer-Bovet 2014, 176 et 192–194. 140 Davaras/Masson 1983, 402–403 (avec une photo de D. K.). 141 Cf. J. et L. Robert, BÉ 1984, n° 327 ; SEG XXXIII 713.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

en réalité trois lignes de texte, qui se laissaient déchiffrer sans trop de difficulté, mis à part une incertitude sur la désinence du patronyme: Ἀριστονόα Αἰρέτω (?) Λυττ[ία] Le nom Αἴρετος est certes un hapax, qui a été introduit dans Lexicon of Greek Personal Names sur la base de cette lecture même.142 On pourrait alors se demander si le lapicide – ou déjà le commanditaire de l’épitaphe ? – n’aurait pas commis ici une légère erreur, puisque, chose extraordinaire, le nom Ἄρετος est connu à Lyttos même (et là seulement !) par une épitaphe trouvée sur place (ICret. XVIII n° 73). Mais il se peut aussi que l’inscription crétoise ait été lue de manière incorrecte, car il faut bien voir que l’on n’en possède qu’une seule copie remontant au début du XIXe siècle (CIG 2600). Je laisse aux spécialistes de la langue et de l’onomastique crétoises le soin de trancher la question. 14. Épitaphe inédite d’une femme d’Ambracie. Stèle à fronton dont les acrotères latéraux ne sont pas dégagés (type II C’ de Dunant 1978, 21). Musée d’Érétrie, sans n° d’inventaire (la stèle était autrefois appuyée contre le mur de clôture du jardin). Haut. 1,06 m, larg. 0,38–395 m, ép. 0,09–10 m. Photographiée et estampée en 1976 (fig. 19). Χρυσαλλὶς Ἀριστο[ν]ώου (?) Ἀμπρακιῶτις C’est sans doute peu après que V. Petrakos eut réuni pour son article de 1968 toutes les inscriptions inédites – ou jugées telles (voir l’appendice) – du Musée d’Érétrie et à un moment où la liste des monuments destinés à être publiés dans son supplément de 1974 était déjà établie que cette grande stèle dut y être apportée depuis une maison du village. Mais elle ne fut apparemment pas enregistrée – du moins dans l’immédiat – en raison peut-être du fait que le déchiffrement en était assez malaisé. Ce qui est certain, c’est qu’elle se trouvait bien en vue à l’angle Nord-Est du jardin, quand il me fut possible (ayant été mis au bénéfice dès le début des années 1970 d’une autorisation générale d’étude des inscriptions érétriennes) de procéder à la révision systématique des épitaphes entreposées dans ce Musée. C’est en 1976 seulement, toutefois, que j’eus le loisir d’examiner la pierre plus spécialement, ce qui me permit de reconnaître à la 3ème ligne,

 142 LGPN I, s. v. n° 1. J’avais communiqué, en effet, cette lecture à P.M. Fraser à l’époque où il me fut donné de collaborer à la confection de ce tome I pour le matériel eubéen.

  Denis Knoepfler l’ethnique au féminin de la cité d’Ambracie, Ἀμπρακιῶτις, forme connue par divers témoignages épigraphiques.143 La lecture du nom et du patronyme de la défunte s’avéra plus laborieuse, et aujourd’hui encore je ne donne pas sans réserve le résultat de ma lecture. À défaut d’être apparu jusqu’ici en Épire même (si je vois bien), Χρυσαλλίς est un anthroponyme non seulement irréprochable dans sa formation, mais effectivement attesté par un petit nombre d’exemples pour des femmes d’Athènes, de Platées et d’Érétrie même.144 Le patronyme fait davantage problème, dans la mesure où le nom que l’on serait tenté de lire (y compris sur estampage), Ἀριστο[ν]ωος, ne paraît guère admissible à côté de la forme commune Ἀριστόνοος/-νους : de fait, les noms en -ῶος (comme Πατρῶος) sont des raretés en toute région.145 À moins donc de supposer une graphie fautive, c’est d’un omikron – mais accidentellement déformé dans sa partie inférieure – qu’il conviendrait d’admettre la présence avant la désinence du génitif. 15. Épitaphe d’un habitant d’Amorgos. Musée d’Érétrie (inv. ME 1027). Fragment d’une stèle de marbre (bordure droite, avec les restes de deux lignes inscrites) publié par Petrakos 1968, 112 n° 87 (sans photo). Revu, estampé et photographié en 1973 ; pour l’identification proposée ici, cf. Knoepfler 2001, 243 n. 920 (fig. 20). [- - - - - - ]ης [- - - - - -]ς L’état de ce fragment peut sembler désespéré. Mais ici encore il faut louer l’éditeur d’avoir jugé nécessaire de publier un si modeste éclat, avec l’espoir de permettre ainsi qu’un raccord puisse être opéré quelque jour. En l’occurrence, il est certes à craindre que la plus grande partie de l’inscription ne soit définitivement perdue, mais on peut, du moins, proposer une identification extrêmement probable. Ce qui peut nous mettre sur la piste, c’est d’une part le fait qu’à la ligne 1 la désinence soit en réalité plus complète, puisqu’on peut lire - -- - -της, donc selon toute vraisemblance un nom en -κράτης, et c’est d’autre part le fait que la lettre finale de la seconde ligne soit gravée en léger retrait, chose très rare dans le cas d’un patronyme, normalement aligné  143 Cf. IACP p. 354 no 113 (H.-J. Gehrke et alii). En revanche, Stéphane de Byzance, s. v. Ἀμβρακία (A 265 Billerbeck 2006), ignore toute forme féminine de l’ethnique, mais mentionne la variante Ἀμπρακιώτης, fréquente dans la documentation littéraire et épigraphique ancienne. Sur Ambracie, voir désormais Fantasia 2017 (ouvrage analysé par D. Rousset, BÉ 2018, n° 239), en attendant le corpus épigraphique préparé par P. Cabanes, avec une prosopographie ambraciote. 144 IG XII 9, 260 (c’est l’exemple retenu par Bechtel 1917, 592 ; cf. LGPN I s. v. n° 1 ; II s. v. n° 1 (Athènes) ; III.B. s. v. n° 1 (Platées, IVe siècle av. J.-C.). Pour le suffixe -αλλίς, voir Masson 1990, 559. 145 Il est vrai que Hammond 1967, 708 (« Onomastikon Epeirotikon »), enregistrait la forme Ἀπολλῶος (sic) d’après une publication albanaise. Mais cette lecture ne paraît pas avoir été confirmée, à en juger par l’absence de ce nom dans LGPN III.A (1997), qui recense l’onomastique épirote. – On connaissait déjà un Épirote à Érétrie : Λυσίας Λύσωνος Ἠπειρώτης (IG XII Suppl. 631 ; cf. LGPN III.A. s. vv.), de même que deux Acarnaniens (IG XII 9, 788 et 804).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

sur l’idionyme. C’est donc une raison (que l’on estimera peut-être ténue) pour penser que cette seconde ligne était occupée, en fait, par un ethnique. Or, il se trouve dans le corpus eubéen une stèle qui répond exactement à ces deux conditions : c’est l’épitaphe d’un habitant d’Amorgos, IG XII 9, 799, Ἑρμοκράτης Ἀμόργιος, copiée en 1908 par Ziebarth, dont le fac-similé indique précisément ce léger retrait de l’ethnique par rapport au nom du défunt (fig. 21). L’identification est renforcée par le fait que cette stèle jadis remployée dans un bâtiment annexe d’une des plus vieilles demeures du village de Néa Psara (Eretria), la maison Benetou,146 n’était déjà plus visible au début des années 1970 : on peut donc supposer que lors d’un aménagement qui dut avoir lieu nécessairement avant l’entreprise menée par V. Petrakos, seul un éclat de la stèle – qui porte bel et bien des traces de remploi moderne (chaux) – a trouvé le chemin du Musée. En tout cas, il ressort de la très utile concordance qu’a publiée l’éditeur dans son supplément de 1974147 que la stèle complète, elle, n’était pas conservée au Musée. Je crois donc pouvoir affirmer aujourd’hui, avec une confiance accrue par le temps, que le petit fragment inventorié sous le n° 1027 est le pauvre reste de cette stèle, rare témoignage de la présence des gens d’Amorgos hors de leur île. Mais contrairement à ce que pensait Ziebarth, ce document ne peut pas être utilisé comme l’indice d’une union « sympolitique » des cités de l’île à la date où elle fut gravée, car il peut arriver qu’un citoyen soit dit d’Amorgos, alors même que les trois cités de l’île ne constituaient pas une unité politique. C’est ce qu’a bien montré Gary Reger, en alléguant précisément cette stèle datée par lui des alentours de 300 av. J.-C. :148 car le recours à l’ethnique commun peut, chez les citoyens d’une île comportant, comme Amorgos (ou Kéos), plusieurs communautés politiques, se faire assez souvent « regardless of their polis of origin or of the precise political situation of the island ». On a donc là, comme dans le cas de l’épitaphe pour le Παιὼν Εὐδαρισταῖος (n° 1) ou pour celle du Σκαιὸς Ἀγριάν (n° 2), un nouvel exemple de l’intérêt historique considérable que peut présenter une simple épitaphe. C’est une chose que Vassilios Petrakos avait dû entendre plus d’une fois de la bouche de ses maîtres français, Jean Pouilloux à Lyon et surtout Louis Robert à Paris.

 146 Cette maison aujourd’hui radicalement transformée contenait autrefois de nombreux remplois antiques, dont le décret IG XII 9, 214, étudié dans Knoepfler 2001, 241–245 n° XV, avec la note 920 pour une liste des épitaphes utilisées comme matériaux dans cette même propriété jouxtant le sanctuaire d’Apollon ; celle de l’habitant d’Amorgos, IG XII 9, 799, était déjà introuvable lors de la prospection menée là en 1972. 147 Cf. supra n. 18. 148 IACP, 734 (G. Reger). Voir aussi Rougemont 1983, p. 131–134 ; Brun 1996, 21 et passim.

  Denis Knoepfler

Conclusion Depuis les deux publications de Vassilios Petrakos (1968, puis 1974) et de Christiane Dunant (1978), le nombre des épitaphes érétriennes s’est encore accru de plusieurs dizaines d’unités, mais beaucoup d’entre elles restent inédites. Tout récemment, certes, a été publié par l’École suisse d’archéologie en Grèce un ensemble remarquablement homogène d’une trentaine de stèles, qui proviennent toutes, en effet, du même secteur de la nécropole occidentale de la ville et appartiennent, en gros, à la même époque (IVe–IIIe siècle).149 Parmi elles, cependant, il n’y avait qu’une épitaphe pour un étranger, en l’occurrence un citoyen de Cyzique, peut-être un négociant, qui avait dû venir à Érétrie – et y mourir – au temps d’Alexandre le Grand.150 D’autre part, il faut rappeler ici l’acquisition inattendue par le Musée local, peu avant 1981, de la sobre épitaphe d’un Péloponnésien, Ἀσκληπιάδης Φλειάσιος, promue à une certaine notoriété ; car d’emblée il m’a paru clair151 que ce personnage était à identifier à une figure attestée par les sources littéraires, à savoir Asklépiadès de Phlionte, qui fut au début du IIIe siècle av. J.-C. l’alter ego du philosophe et homme d’État Ménédème, fils de l’architecte Kleisthénès, en fait le seul étranger dont le décès dans cette ville de l’Eubée soit explicitement attesté par un auteur ancien ! D’autres épitaphes ressortissant à cette catégorie sont venues, dans l’intervalle, enrichir la collection du Musée, mais le plus souvent de façon excessivement discrète. Certes, l’éphore Efi Sapouna-Sakellaraki a pris soin de faire connaître successivement la stèle d’une femme – et non d’un homme – originaire de la petite cité d’Éléonte sur la Chersonèse de Thrace (Ἀρτεμὼ Ἰκάρου Ἐλαιουσία),152 et celle d’un Locrien de l’Est ou de l’Ouest (Πρόμαχος Λυ[κό]φρονος Λοκρός).153 En revanche, l’épitaphe d’un citoyen de Kassandreia, celle d’un habitant de Tyr, plusieurs autres encore, demeurent inédites.154 Aussi avions-nous jugé utile de signaler au passage – vingt ans après sa

 149 Fachard et al. 2017 : p. 141–170 pour la partie archéologique (S. Fachard, Th. Theurillat et A. Psalti), p. 171–226 pour la publication des stèles et le commmentaire onomastique (D. Ackermann et D. Knoepfler). 150 Ackermann/Knoepfler 2017, 195–196 n° 29, avec la fig. 45 (reprise par Knoepfler 2019, 329 no 208 et fig. 11) ; cf. p. 220 sq. pour le commentaire. 151 SEG LV 979. J’avais pu en donner une photo dans les planches de la thèse inédite soutenue en 1984 à la Sorbonne sous le titre La cité de Ménédème. Pour la bibliographie ultérieure, cf. Ackermann/Knoepfler 2017, 222 n. 201. Il faudra y revenir pour montrer que cette stèle a été trouvée en dehors de la ville, à Kato Vathia (Amarynthos), et provient donc probablement du dème d’Aigalè, qui était précisément celui du philosophe Ménédème ! 152 Sapouna-Sakellaraki 1994, 299 et pl. 96 β, publiée là en majuscules seulement sous la forme suivnte : ΑΡΤΕΜΩΝ.ΑΡΟ. . . ΕΛΑΙΟ… 153 Sapouna-Sakellaraki 1995, 319 (SEG XLIX 1195 ; IG IX 12, 5, 2047). Pour un autre Locrien, voir ciaprès p. 78 avec la n. 161. 154 Cf. supra n. 100 (Tyr) et n. 123 (Kassandreia).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

trouvaille en 1984 ! – le témoignage historique remarquable que constitue l’épitaphe (assez maladroitement gravée) d’un « poète lyrique », μέλων ποιητής, originaire à coup sûr de la ville de Naples, Χάρμης Τριβίου Νεαπολίτης (fig. 22), dont la venue en Eubée paraît dater du début du Ier siècle av. J.-C. et peut ainsi être mise aisément en relation avec le concours des Tamyneia (organisés alors avec un certain faste par les Érétriens), qui comportait précisément des épreuves musicales et attirait nombre d’étrangers participant également aux agônes de même catégorie dans la Béotie voisine : son appartenance à la Néapolis gréco-samnite est en effet assurée tant par son idionyme que par son patronyme, Τρίβιος étant une erreur certaine (et parfaitement explicable) du lapicide pour Τρέβιος, nom campanien très bien attesté dans cette ville.155 Mentionnons de même l’épitaphe intéressante – en dépit de son état fragmentaire – d’un homme de Ténédos156 dont la nomenclature paraît caractéristique, elle aussi, de son île natale : cette stèle fort soignée mériterait assurément d’être publiée (avec une bonne photo permettant de juger de la gravure et donc de la date),157 en même temps que d’autres, en nombre assez élevé, qui se rapportent, elles, à des citoyens et citoyennes d’Érétrie – ou parfois à leurs serviteurs. Dans les investigations que j’ai moi-même menées aux alentours de cette ville depuis près d’un demi-siècle, il m’est arrivé plus d’une fois de repérer, parmi les stèles gisant au sol ou souvent remployées (parfois dès l’Antiquité), des épitaphes dressées à la mémoire d’étrangers ou d’étrangères : ainsi dès 1976 dans l’îlot de Hagia Trias, la stèle bien conservée d’un homme de Syracuse, Κάλλιππος Συρακόσιος (IVe siècle av. J.-C.),158 et l’épitaphe nettement plus tardive d’un habitant de la toute voisine Oropos,159 à une époque où cette ville était sur le point de disparaître en tant que cité ou  155 Knoepfler 2007, 105 n. 88 ; cf. BÉ 2008, n° 264, et SEG LVII 829. Pour ces deux noms, voir LGPN III.A s. v. Χάρμης n° 1 (Néapolis, avec un autre ex. provenant de Sicile ou d’Italie méridionale), et s. v. Τρέβιος n° 1–13 (pratiquement tous de Néapolis ou du moins de la Campanie). 156 Stèle fragmentaire (sans n° d’inventaire, vue en 1990 et copiée en 2004) : Φαΐτα[ς] Ξενί[ωνος?] Τενέ[διος]. Le nom du défunt n’était attesté jusqu’ici, selon toute apparence, qu’à Ténédos même (cf. LGPN I s. v. Φαΐτας n° 1) et sur le continent voisin (cf. LGPN V.A. s. v. n° 1–3, avec renvoi à Masson 2000, 247) ; le médecin de ce nom à Aigai d’Éolide est l’exemple de Bechtel 1917, 436. Compte tenu de l’espace disponible à dr. on ne peut exclure que l’idionyme ait été le patronymique Φαϊτά[δας], qui serait nouveau. Pour un autre Ténédien à É. voir IG XII 9, 798 (Δίφιλος Τενέδιος), stèle du IVe siècle revue en 1975. 157 Mais il n’y a pas de doute quant à sa datation à la haute époque hellénistique, bien avant l’absorption de Ténédos dans la cité d’Alexandrie de Troade, événement dont Robert 1951, 10 n. 2, a montré que, contrairement à une opinion alors répandue, il n’était survenu qu’au début de l’Empire ; sur l’histoire de cette île, voir plus récemment Rutishauser 2001 (essentiellement sur le rôle de l’île dans la politque frumentaire athénienne). 158 Maintenant au Musée d’Érétrie (ME 19622), comme toutes les pièces de la collection d’Hagia Trias : cf. BÉ 2012, n° 230, pour une simple mention de cette stèle et de la suivante. 159 Ἀττικος Νικίου Ὠρώπιος (Ier siècle av. ou apr. J.-C.). Un autre Oropien décédé à É. un peu avant cette date était déjà connu par IG XII 9, 811 (Κλήσιππος Φιλαινίδου Ω.). Pour le problème de la fusion définitive d’Oropos dans la cité athénienne, cf. Knoepfler 2019, 296 n° 142.

  Denis Knoepfler avait déjà perdu son indépendance. Sur l’acropole, des fragments épars, emportés depuis les nécropoles avec d’autres matériaux de la ville basse : par exemple, la stèle d’un Thessalien160 réutilisée dans une réfection de l’enceinte ou celle d’un Locrien ;161 ailleurs dans la ville moderne, l’épitaphe d’un Thrace et celle d’un Magnète (publiées ci-dessus sous les n° 4 et 11 respectivement), sans parler de fragments où l’ethnique n’est restituable que de façon hypothétique,162 avec aussi des cas actuellement désespérés.163 Dans le secteur de la vaste nécropole occidentale, au hasard des prospections, ont été repérées il y a déjà longtemps la stèle d’une Thébaine164 et, plus récemment, celle d’un Crétois de Kydonia, aujourd’hui perdue (fig. 23).165 Le nom, le patronyme et l’ethnique d’une autre Thébaine se lisent toujours – mais pour combien de temps encore ? – sur un grand fût de marbre hellénistique réutilisé comme seuil de l’église paléochrétienne (ou byzantine) d’Hagia Paraskevi,166 dans les murs ou au  160 Stèle d’un Thessalien repéré sur l’Acropole en 1974. R. van Bremen a proposé naguère de reconnaître un Thessalien dans le phrourarchos (?) dont le nom, Ἀγροίτας, est apparu à Érétrie dans une série de balles de fronde publiée par Cédric Brélaz et Pierre Ducrey : cf. Knoepfler 2019, 330 n° 213. 161 Θα[λλ?]ίαρχος Κοννίωνος Λοκρός. Trouvée sur l’Acropole en 1975, cette stèle est enregistée au Musée sous le n° M 567 (inv. suisse). Cf. Knoepfler 2001, 267 n. 1048; BÉ 2012, 210. 162 Ainsi un fragment provenant des fouilles helvétiques en 1976 et copié en 1977 au Musée (inv. suisse M 622 ; pas intégré dans Dunant 1978) : [- –]νης | Ἡρακλε]ιώτης vel [Ἀμπρακ]ιώτης (vers 300 av. J.-C.). Pour des citoyens d’Hérakleia à Érétrie, cf. supra 47 et n. 12 ; pour Ambracie, voir ci-dessus n° 14. 163 Par exemple, sur un fragment repéré dès 1974 sur l’Acropole et rapporté au Musée (inv. suisse M 535), qui date vraisemblablement du IIIe siècle av. J.-C., le nom commence par ΑΡ, le patronyme par ΑΠ, l’ethnique par Μ, ce qui laisse place à beaucoup de possibilités ! 164 Trouvée en avril 1986 par le futur directeur de l’ESAG Karl Reber près des terrains de sport à l’ouest de la muraille occidentale et apportée au Musée (inv. suisse M 983 ; P. Ducrey m’en avait envoyé une fiche le 3.9.1986 et je l’ai revue moi-même en 1987) : Ζωπύρα Δορκίωνο[ς] Θηβα[ία] (début du Ier siècle av. J.-C.). Ces noms sont bien attestés en Béotie : cf. LGPN III.A. s. vv. Pour d’autres stèles venues accroître le contingent des Thébain(e)s à Érétrie, voir ci-dessus n. 14 et 24. À quoi s’ajoute encore l’épitaphe (apportée au Musée en 1981 et publiée par Kalligas 1983, 135 n° 46 ; pas dans SEG) de Ἀριστώ Τιμοδάμου Θηβαία : cf. LGPN III.B. s. vv. Aρ. n° 11 et Tιμ. n° 2, de même que la stèle de l’oratoire de Hagia Paraskevi signalée ci-après n. 166. 165 Trouvée en 1999 par Pascal Simon, collaborateur de l’ESAG, dans une maison de berger au lieudit Plakakia (à env. 2 km à l’ouest de la ville) : cf. Simon 2000, 133 (simple mention de deux inscriptions fragmentaires, sans photo ni transcription) et Fachard 2012, 304 (même chose). L’inventeur, que je remercie ici, me signale que cette stèle – surmontée d’une moulure en fort relief (et peut-être d’un fronton) – a disparu depuis, en même temps que la maison elle-même. Sur les photos qu’a bien voulu me transmettre Thierry Theurillat, archiviste et secrétaire de l’ESAG, on peut lire à coup sûr le nom Αἰσχίνας et l’ethnique Κυδωνιάτης. Le patronyme, en revanche, est d’une lecture malaisée, la pierre ayant peut-être été partiellement regravée : ΜΙΡΚΗ . . . . ? (aucune lettre n’est assurée). 166 Ἰσιδώρa Λάχητος Θηβαία (basse époque hellénistique). Sur la fouille de cette église paléochrétienne ou byzantine, avec le cimetière attenant, qui a produit depuis la fin des années 1960 de nombreuses épitaphes antiques (restées pour la plupart inédites), voir BÉ 2011, n° 231 ; pour des compléments, suite à une nouvelle fouille en 2007, cf. ibid. 2015, 349. Depuis, le site est malheureusement laissé à l’abandon et l’oratoire lui-même s’est effondré.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

voisinage de laquelle ont été également remployées de nombreuses épitaphes qui mériteraient de faire l’objet d’une publication d’ensemble.167 Espérons en tout cas que tous ces membra disjecta trouveront un jour leur place dans le grand recueil en préparation des épitaphes érétriennes,168 corpus à l’élaboration duquel Vassilios Petrakos aura contribué de manière significative par ses publications d’il y a cinquante ans.

Appendice Liste des épitaphes publiées comme inédites dans l’article de 1968 mais figurant déjà – sous une forme ou sous une autre – dans le corpus eubéen de Ziebarth (IG XII 9 + Suppl.). A. Petrakos 1968, 103 n° 8, inv. ME 1282 (Ἀντικρά[της]) = IG XII 9, 531 (---------ς Ἀντιπάτρου), à lire Νευσ[ὼ?] Ἀντιπάτρου (revue en 1974). B. Petrakos 1968, 103 n° 11, inv. ME 682 (Ἀπολλώνιος) = IG XII 9, 318, (Ἀπολλώνιος, « litterae pulcherrimae »). C. Petrakos 1968, 106 n° 39, inv. ME 1041 (Ἀγαθὴ Δωροθέου) = IG XII Suppl. 603 (Ἀγαθὴ Δωροθέου) ; cf. J. et L. Robert, BÉ 1969, n° 455 (« D. Knoepfler nous l’a signalé »). D. Petrakos 1968, 107 n° 47, inv. ME 998 (Ἐδ[- - - - -]ρης Παραμόνου) = IG XII Suppl. 611 (Ἐλ[πίν]ης Παραμόνου) ; la lecture Ἐλπίνης, quoique malaisée, est certaine: cf. LGPN I, s. vv. Ἐλπίνης n° 28 et Παράμονος n° 45. E. Petrakos 1968, 108 n° 53, inv. ME 977 (Κλέαρχος Δημοκλείδου) = IG XII Suppl. 547 (au village de Gymnou ; stèle revue et photographiée au Musée en 1976). Cf. déjà LGPN I, s. vv. Κλέαρχος n° 40 et Δημοκλείδης n° 5. F. Petrakos 1968, 109 n° 63, inv. ME 1047 (Ρια[- - - -] Φιλο[- - - -]) = IG XII 9, 859 (Φιλο - - | Φιλο - -), fragment qui se raccorde à IG XII 9, 774, - - ένικος (sic) | - - νίκου pour former une épitaphe complète, Φιλόνικος Φιλονίκου (gravure cursive négligée, et sans doute en partie fautive, de la basse époque hellénistique); pas dans LGPN I. G. Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 67, inv. ME 1210 ([Φ]ιλ[ῖ]νος [Πρ]οξ[έν]ου) = IG XII Suppl. 605 (Γλ[αύ]κ[ιππ]ος [Π]ροξένου). Cf. déjà LGPN I, s. vv. Φίλιππος n° 75 (lecture D. K.) et Πρόξενος n° 13. H. Petrakos 1968, 112 n° 83, inv. ME 1016 ([- - - - -]όρη) = IG XII 9, 299 (Διαγόρη). Cf. déjà LGPN I, s. v. Ὑψαγόρη (lecture D. K. en 1977).

 167 Parmi la douzaine de stèles que j’y ai repérées se trouve l’épitaphe (aujourd’hui disparue ?) d’un Argien : Εὐκράτης Ἀπολλωνίδου Ἀργεῖο[ς]. Ces deux noms sont déjà attestés à Argos (cf. LGPN III.A s. vv.). 168 Voir ci-dessus n. 28.

  Denis Knoepfler I. J. K.

L.

M. N. O.

P.

Petrakos 1968, 112 n° 85 (Σιμ[. . . .]), inv. ME 1004 = IG XII 9, 479. Cf. déjà LGPN I, s. v. Σιμύλος n° 4. Petrakos 1968, 112 n° 87, inv. ME 1027 = IG XII 9, 799. Voir ci-dessus n° 15. Petrakos 1968, 112 n° 88, inv. ME 1278 (- - - - - - ιος | - - - - - -ίκης) = IG XII 9, 302 (hόρος θήκης); cippe revu en 1977. Cf. déjà D. Knoepfler, BÉ 2010, n° 313 (en p. 391). Petrakos 1968, 112 n° 89, inv. ME 986 ([- - - - -]λλία | [- - - - -]δου) = IG XII 9, 658 (Κτηρίλλα Δερκυλίδου), épitaphe non vue par Ziebarth en 1908, revue en 1976 (l’iota lu par V. P. est un accident de la pierre). Petrakos 1968, 112 n° 91, inv. ME 1281 ([- - - - -]τη | [- - - -]ωνο[ς]) = IG XII 9, 565, revue en 1974 (Βιότη Ὀλυμπίωνος). Petrakos 1968, 112 n° 92, inv. ME 973 = IG XII 9, 839. Voir ci-dessus n° 12. Petrakos 1974, 103 n° 21 et fig. 71α, inv. ME 2165 [. . . . . .]ορη) ; cf. SEG XXVII 602. Cette pierre trouvée par le soussigné en sept. 1968 dans l’arrière-pays d’Érétrie, au hameau de H. Kyriaki, a été éditée indépendamment par Dunant 1978, n° 59 et pl. 12 ([Κ]όρη). Petrakos 1974, 100 n° 1, inv. ME 1800 (Ἀρισταρέτη) et n° 4, inv. ME 1805 (Εἰρήνη). Dans SEG XXVII 581–582, H.W. Pleket s’était demandé si ces deux épitaphes ne faisaient pas qu’un avec IG XII Suppl. 579 (Ἀρισταρέτη) et IG XII 9, 350 (Εἰρήνη) respectivement, mais notre collègue était néanmoins enclin à penser qu’il s’agissait, dans les deux cas, d’épitaphes homonymes à distinguer (vu qu’elles portaient un numéro d’inventaire différent de celui des pièces publiées par Petrakos). De fait, l’examen des pierres réalisé dès 1974 au Musée ne laisse place à aucun doute là-dessus.

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De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

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  Denis Knoepfler Knoepfler, D. (1988), « Rev. de : H.W. Pleket/R.S. Stroud (eds.), Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum Vol. XXXI (1981) ; XXXII (1982) ; XXXIII (1983) », dans : Gnomon 60, 222–235. Knoepfler, D. (1991), La Vie de Ménédème d’Érétrie de Diogène Laërce, Bâle. Knoepfler, D. (2001), Décrets érétriens de proxénie et de citoyenneté, Lausanne. Knoepfler, D. (2007), « Was there an Anthroponymy of Euboian Origin in the Chalkido-Eretrian Colonies of the West and of Thrace ? », dans : E. Matthews (éd.), Old and New Worlds in Greek Onomastics, Proceedings of the British Academy 148, Oxford, 87–119. Knoepfler, D. (2015), « Douris et l’histoire d’Athènes », dans : V. Naas/M. Simon (éds.), De Samos à Rome : personnalité et influence de Douris, Paris, 15–35. Knoepfler, D. (2017), « Sur les deux rives de l’Euripe : inscriptions de Béotie et d’Eubée dans quatre ouvrages récents », dans : REG 130, 233–274. Knoepfler, D. (2019), « Promenade érudite au cœur de la Vieille Grèce : une revue critique des plus récents travaux relatifs à l’épigraphie de la Béotie (avec la Mégaride) et de l’Eubée (avec la Chalcidique) », dans : Journ. Sav. 2019, 217–351. Koumanoudis, St. (1979), Θηβαϊκὴ Προσωπογραφία, Βιβλιοθήκη τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας 90, Athènes. Launey, M. (1949), Recherches sur les armées hellénistiques, Paris. Le Bohec, S. (1993), Antigone Dôsôn Roi de Macédoine, Nancy. Leaf, W. (1912), The Troad. Study in Homeric Geography, London. Ma, J. (2013), « The Attalids : A Military History », dans : P. Thoneman (éd.), Attalid Asia Minor. Money, International Relations, and the State, Oxford, 49–81. Marchand, F. (2011), « Rencontres onomastiques au carrefour de l’Eubée et de la Béotie », dans : N. Badoud (éd.), Philologos Dionysios. Mélanges offerts au professeur Denis Knoepfler, Genève, 343–376. Masson, O. (1988), « Les noms théophores de Bendis en Grèce et Asie Mineure », dans : Mus. Helv. 45, 6–12. Masson, O. (1990), Onomastica Graeca selecta I–II, Paris. Masson, O. (1993), « Une question delphique : qui étaient les “Mysiens” de Lilaia ? », dans : REG 106, 163–167. Masson, O. (2000), Onomastica Graeca Selecta III, Genève. Moretti, L. (1976), Iscrizioni Storiche Ellenistiche II. Testo critico, traduzione e commento, Florence. Myers, J.L. (1897), « Excavations in Cyprus in 1894 », dans : JHS 17, 134–173. Nikopoulou, Y.V. (1970), « Ἐλευσίς », dans : ΑΔ 25 B1, 91–99. Osborne, M.J. (1988), « Attic Epitaphs : A Supplement », Anc. Soc. 19, 5–60. Pajor, F. (2006), Eretria-Nea Psara. Eine klassizistische Stadtanlage über der antiken Polis, Eretria XV, Gollion. Papazoglou, F. (1988), Les villes de Macédoine à l’époque romaine, BCH Suppl. 16, Paris. Petrakos, V.Ch. (1968), « Ἐπιγραφαὶ Ἐρετρίας », dans : ΑΔ 23 A, 99–116, pl. 46–99. Petrakos, V.Ch. (1974), « Ἐπιγραφαὶ Εὐβοίας », dans : ΑΔ 29 A, 100–108, pl. 58–73. Petrakos, V.Ch. (1997), Οἱ ἐπιγραφὲς τοῦ Ὠρωποῦ, Βιβλιοθήκη τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας 170, Athènes. Petrakos, V Ch. (1999), Ὁ δῆμος τοῦ Ῥαμνοῦντος I. Τοπογραφία, Βιβλιοθήκη τῆς ἐν ’Αθήναις ’Αρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας 181, Athènes. Picard, O. (1979), Chalcis et la Confédération eubéenne. Numismatique et histoire, Paris. Robert, L. (1936), Collection Froehner I. Inscriptions grecques, Paris. Robert, L. (1951), Études de numismatique grecque, Paris. Robert, L. (1960a), « The Inscription of the Sepulchral Stele from Sardis », dans : AJA 64, 53–56 Robert, L. (1960b), Hellenica. Recueil d’épigraphie, de numismatique et d’antiquités grecques XI– XII, Paris.

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

Robert, L. (1962), Villes d’Asie Mineure. Études de géographie ancienne, 2e édition, Paris. Robert, L. (1963), Noms indigènes dans l’Asie Mineure gréco-romaine, Paris. Robert, L. (1978), « Les conquêtes du dynaste lycien Arbinas », dans : Journ. Sav. 1978, 3–48. Robert, L. (2007), Choix d’écrits, Paris. Roesch, P. (1982), Études béotiennes, Paris. Rougemont, G. (1983), « Amorgos, colonie de Samos? », dans : Cl. Rougemont/G. Rougemont (éds.), Les Cyclades. Matérieux pour une étude de géographie historique. Table ronde réunie à l’Université de Dijon les 11, 12 et 13 mars 1982, Paris, 131-134. Russu, I. I. (1950), « Thracica. Notes d’épigraphie et d’onomastique thrace », Annales du Musée de Plovdiv 2, 57–59. Rutishauser, B. (2001), « Island Strategies : the Case of Tenedos », dans : Rev. Ét. Anc. 103, 197–204. Sapouna-Sakellaraki, E. (1994), « ΙΑ´ Εφορεία προϊστορικών και κλασικών αρχαιοτήτων », dans : ΑΔ 49 B1, 294–300. Sapouna-Sakellaraki, E. (1995), « ΙΑ´ Εφορεία προϊστορικών και κλασικών αρχαιοτήτων », dans : ΑΔ 50 B1, 311–320. Schachter, A. (2015), Boeotia in Antiquity. Selected Papers, Oxford. Schmidt, St. (2011), Pline l’Ancien. Histoire naturelle, Bibliothèque de la Pléiade, Paris. Simon, P. (2000), « Une campagne de prospection du territoire Érétrien », dans : AK 43, 131–133. Stückelberger, A./Graßhoff, G. (éds.) (2006), Klaudios Ptolemaios Handbuch der Geographie I, Bâle. Tataki, A.B. (1998), Macedonians Abroad. A Contribution to the Prosopography of Ancient Macedonia, Meletemata 26, Athènes. Tomaschek, W. (1894), Die alten Thraker II. Die Sprachreste 2. Teil : Personen- und Ortsnamen, dans : Sitz. Wien 131/1, 1–103. Trachsel, A. (2007), La Troade : un paysage et son héritage littéraire. Les commentaires antiques sur la Troade, leur genèse et leur influence, Bibliotheca Helvetica Romana 28, Basel. Tsaravopoulos, A. (2016), « Two more inscribed nails from Korone, Porto Rafti (Did Persian soldiers really come to Attica in 267–262 BC ?) », dans : Grammateion 5, 43–48. Vottéro, G. (2017), « Suffixes caractéristiques dans l’onomastique personnelle de la Béotie », dans : A. Alonso-Déniz/L. Dubois/Cl. Le Feuvre/S. Minon (éds.), La suffixation des anthroponymes grecs antiques, Paris, 591–624. Walbank, F.W. (1967), A Historical Commentary on Polybius II, Oxford Wilhelm, A. (1931), « Ἐπίγραμμα ἐκ Λυκίας », dans : ΠAE 1931, 319–334. Wilhelm, A. (1974), Kl. Schriften II, Leipzig. Zahrnt, M. (2006), «Macedonia and Thrace in Thucydides», dans : Brill’s Companion to Thucydides, Leiden/Boston.

  Denis Knoepfler

Figures

Fig. 1: Stèle pour une Thébaine (Petrakos 1968, 111 n° 75). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

Fig. 2: Stèle pour un Thébain (IG XII 9, 790). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

Fig. 3: Stèle pour un Péonien (Petrakos 1968, 111 n° 75). Musée d’Érétrie (photo D. Ackermann).

  Denis Knoepfler

Fig. 4: Stèle pour un Agriane (IG XII Suppl. 629). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

Fig. 5: Épitaphe perdue pour un Sapéen (IG XII 9, 795, fac-similé du corpus).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

Fig. 6a et b: Stèle en deux fragments pour un Thrace (trouvaille inédite de l’auteur). Musée d’Érétrie (photos auteur: estampage en 1981, pierre en 2019).

88 | Denis Knoepfler

Fig. 7a: Stèle pour une Thrace (IG XII 9, 813). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie | 89

Fig. 7b: Stèle pour une Thrace (Petrakos 1968, 110 no 74). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

90 | Denis Knoepfler

Fig. 8: Stèle pour une esclave (?) dénommée Thratta (Fouilles ESAG 1977). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie | 91

Fig. 9: Stèle remployée pour un Étolien (Petrakos 1968, 109 n° 64). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

92 | Denis Knoepfler

Fig. 10: Stèle pour un Perse (Petrakos 1968, 102 n° 7). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie | 93

Fig. 11: Stèle pour un Mysien (Petrakos 1974, 103 n° 18 = SEG XXVII 588). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

94 | Denis Knoepfler

Fig. 12: Stèle pour une Béotienne (Petrakos 1968, 108 n° 52). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

Fig. 13: Stèle pour un Alexandrin (Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 69). Musée d’Érétrie. (photo D. Ackermann).

Fig. 14: Stèle pour un Thessalien (Petrakos 1968, 110 n° 69). Musée d’Érétrie (estampage, photo auteur).

96 | Denis Knoepfler

Fig. 15: Stèle fragmentaire pour un Magnète (trouvaille inédite de l’auteur). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

Fig. 16: Fragment de stèle (Petrakos 1968, 113 n° 92). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur ; voir aussi la fig. suivante).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie | 97

Fig. 17: Stèle pour un Crétois (IG XII 9, 839). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

  Denis Knoepfler

Fig. 18: Stèle pour une Crétoise (IG XII 9, 323). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

Fig. 19: Stèle inédite pour une femme d’Ambracie. Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

  Denis Knoepfler

Fig. 20: Fragment de stèle (Petrakos 1968, 112 n° 87). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur ; voir aussi la fig. suivante).

Fig. 21: Stèle perdue pour un habitant d’Amorgos (IG XII 9, 799, fac-similé du corpus).

De quelques épitaphes d’étrangers et d’étrangères au Musée d’Érétrie  

Fig. 22: Stèle pour un poète de Naples (SEG LVII 829). Musée d’Érétrie (photo auteur).

  Denis Knoepfler

Fig. 23: Stèle perdue pour un Crétois de Kydonia au-lieu dit Plakakia (photo P. Simon, ESAG).

Charalampos B. Kritzas

Φυτωνυμικά τοπωνύμια Κωμών της Αργολίδος Abstract: The territory of the state of Argos in the 4th cent. BC was very extensive, covering the vast Argive plain and all the area from the borders with Corinthia and Phliasia to those with Epidauria and Hermionis, as well as Thyreatis and later the rest of Cynouria. The main urban center was the city of Argos, but a great part of the population were living in many smaller towns and villages scattered in the territory, which were called kômai. In this article we comment on the names and the location (if known) of twelve kômai with phytonymic names. Some were known from the past, but some others became revealed through the bronze tablets of the archive of the sanctuary of Pallas. Their names are: Ἄνθεια, Ἄχυροι, Ἐλαιὼν - Ἐλαιοῦς, Κενχρεαί, Κικίνειον, Μελινίς, Fοινόα, Ῥοδοῦσσα, Σφάκος, Φλειϝṓν (or Φλεῖϝον), Φοίνικες.

Ο τιμώμενος δρ. Βασίλειος Πετράκος, ως αρμόδιος Έφορος Αρχαιοτήτων, συνέδεσε το όνομά του μεταξύ άλλων με δύο περιοχές της Αττικής και έδρες σπουδαίων αρχαίων δήμων, τον ‘Ραμνοῦντα και τον Μαραθῶνα. Και τα δύο τοπωνύμια είναι φυτωνυμικά, από την ῥάμνον και το μάραθον αντίστοιχα. Ως γνωστόν οι καταλήξεις φυτωνυμικών τοπωνυμίων σε -οῦς και -ών δηλώνουν πλησμονή του αντίστοιχου φυτού στην συγκεκριμένη περιοχή. Ανάλογα με το ‘Ραμνοῦς είναι για παράδειγμα τα τοπωνύμια Ἀγνοῦς, Ἀνθεμοῦς, Ἀχερδοῦς, Ἀχραδοῦς, Δαφνοῦς, Ἐλαιοῦς, Θριοῦς, Κερασοῦς, Μαραθοῦς, Μυρικοῦς, Μυρρινοῦς, Πυξοῦς, Ριζοῦς, Σελινοῦς, Σκιλλοῦς, Σχοινοῦς, Τρεμιθοῦς, Φηγοῦς, Φοινικοῦς, Φυκοῦς κλπ.1 Ανάλογα με το Μαραθὼν είναι για παράδειγμα τα τοπωνύμια Ἑλικών, Καλαμών, Πλατανών, Σικυών, Φοινικών, κλπ.2 Θεώρησα λοιπόν ότι μια συμβολή με θέμα «Φυτωνυμικά τοπωνύμια Κωμών της Αργολίδος» θα ήταν αρμόζουσα στον τιμητικό τόμο ενός ‘Ραμνουσίου. Επειδή ορισμένοι, τόσο στην αρχαιότητα όσο κυρίως στα νεώτερα χρόνια, με τον γεωγραφικό όρο Αργολίς εννοούν και την Επιδαυρία και την Ερμιονίδα, διευκρινίζεται ότι η μελέτη θα περιοριστεί σε κώμες της Ἀργείας, της επικράτειας του Άργους κατά την κλασική εποχή. Μεταξύ αυτών περιλαμβάνονται και ορισμένες αμάρτυρες μέχρι τώρα κώμες, που αναφέρονται στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες από το αρχείο του ιερού

 Θα ήθελα να ευχαριστήσω θερμά τον φίλο καθ. Γιάννη Πίκουλα και τους συναδέλφους δρα Άννα Μπανάκα-Δημάκη και κ. Χρήστο Πιτερό για την παροχή βιβλιογραφικών και τοπογραφικών πληροφοριών.  1 Για τον σχηματισμό βλ. μεταξύ άλλων Ηρωδιαν., Περί καθολ. προσῳδίας, 3.1, σ. 88 και 242. Του ίδιου, Περί παρωνύμων, 3, 2, σ. 855. Σχόλια στον Αριστοφάνη, Πλούτος, στ. 586. Γενικά για φυτώνυμα τοπωνύμια βλ. Carnoy 1959. 2 Τα ουσιαστικά αυτού του τύπου χαρακτηρίζονται ως περιεκτικά. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-004

  Charalampos B. Kritzas της Παλλάδος που βρέθηκε στην πόλη του Άργους.3 Οι κώμες παρατίθενται και σχολιάζονται κατωτέρω κατά αλφαβητική σειρά.

Ἄνθεια Κώμη με το όνομα Ἄνθεια δεν απαντά στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες. Ο Στέφανος Βυζάντιος, (Εθνικών, λ. Ἄνθεια) αναφέρει: Ἄνθεια, πόλις Πελοποννήσου, πλησίον Ἄργους, ὡς Φίλων. τὸ ἐθνικὸν Ἀνθεύς. κλπ. Η πληροφορία του Φίλωνος θεωρήθηκε αμφίβολη.4 Το ίδιο όνομα έφεραν και διάφορες άλλες πόλεις, μεταξύ των οποίων και μία από τις πόλεις από τις οποίες έγινε ο συνοικισμός της Τροιζήνος.5 Κατά τους λεξικογράφους αποτελούσε επίκληση της Ήρας, που με αυτό το λατρευτικό επώνυμο είχε ναό στο Άργος.6 Με την ίδια επίκληση λατρευόταν η Αφροδίτη στην Κνωσό.7 Επιγραφικά μαρτυρημένη είναι η ύπαρξη λατρείας Ἥρης Ἀνθέης και στη Μίλητο.8 Δεν είναι γνωστή η τυχόν σχέση της κώμης με την λατρεία της Ήρας Ανθείας. Όμως στο εκκλησάκι του Αγίου Αθανασίου ΒΔ της Άριας Ναυπλίου υπάρχει εντοιχισμένος σε β΄ χρήση ενεπίγραφος όρος του πρώιμου 5ου αιώνα π. Χ. με την επιγραφή [Η]όρος | [Ἀ]νθε̄ ίδος (= [Ἀ]νθηίδος).9 Ο εκδότης της επιγραφής Χρήστος Πιτερός πιστεύει ότι η Ἀνθηίς πρέπει να ταυτίζεται πιθανότατα με την μεταγενέστερη κώμη Ἄνθεια, πράγμα που δεν μπορεί να αποκλειστεί εντελώς. Προτείνει επίσης την ταύτιση της πλούσιας πηγής που υπάρχει στην Άρια με την Κάναθον, όπου κατά τον μύθο λουζόταν κάθε χρόνο η Ήρα και ανακτούσε την παρθενία της.10 Είναι όμως πιθανότερο ο όρος να προσδιόριζε ιερή γη της  3 Βλ. μεταξύ άλλων Kritzas 2006, κυρίως σ. 425–430. Κριτζάς 2007, 155–157. Κριτζάς 2013, κυρίως σ. 16–19. 4 Βλ. RE I.2, 2362, αρ. 4. 5 Παυσ. 2.30.8–9. 6 Παυσ. 2.22.1. Μέγα Ετυμ., λ. Ἄνθεια. RE Ι.2, 2362, αρ. 8. 7 Ησύχ., λ. Ἄνθεια. 8 Rehm 1914, σ. 163–164, αρ. 31, στ. 5, λίγο πριν το 500 π. Χ.: Ἤρη Ἀνθέηι ⋮ οἶς λευκή ⋮ ἔγκυαρ (το Ἤρη είναι τυπωμένο με ψιλή). Πρβλ. Vollgraff 1948, 95. 9 Πιτερός 1995, 110; Πιτερός 2006, 252–253; Πιτερός 2012, 169. Είναι πιθανή και η γραφή [ὀ͂]ρος = [ὦ]ρος. Βλ. για παράδειγμα τον όρο του π. 500 π. Χ. από τις Μυκήνες με την επιγραφή Ὦρος Ηε̄ ραίας (ενν. χώρας). Woodhead 1953, 27–29. SEG 13, 236. Για την ορθή ερμηνεία βλ. Piérart 1992, 380–381. Αντί της γραφής ὅρος που υιοθετούν όλοι οι προαναφερόμενοι, προτιμώ για την συγκεκριμένη επιγραφή την γραφή ὦρος, επειδή δεν υπάρχει στην αρχή της λέξης το σύμβολο του δασέος που υπάρχει στη λ. Ηεραίας. Η γραφή με Ω είναι γνωστή και από άλλες αργειακές επιγραφές, όπως π.χ. η επιγραφή τερμονισμού από το Άργος SEG 36, 336 και SEG 59, 356, στ. 9, 10, 11 κλπ., ο ὀ͂ρος ⋮ hε|λλōτίō (ιερού της νύμφης Ἑλλωτίδος στην Άκοβα Άργους) SEG 1, 68 με προσθήκη σ. 137 και SEG 11, 352, και ο ὦρος ἐπιπολᾶς από την Νεμέα SEG 34, 285. Ένας άλλος όρος του 4ου–3ου αι. π.Χ. από την περιοχή των Ιρίων, SEG 24, 275, φέρει την επιγραφή ὅρος Πυθῇδος. 10 Παυσ. 2.38.2.

Φυτωνυμικά τοπωνύμια Κωμών της Αργολίδος  

Ήρας Ανθείας, όπως για παράδειγμα ο Ὅρος Πυθῇδος (ενν. χώρας) από την περιοχή των Ιρίων, που προσδιόριζε γαίες του Απόλλωνος Πυθαέως και ο Ὦρος Ηε̄ ραίας από τις Μυκήνες που προαναφέραμε (σημ. 9).

Ἄχυροι Ἄχυροι ή Ἀχυροί. Ως όνομα κώμης απαντά τρεις φορές στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες. Πρόκειται για τον πληθυντικό της λ. (ὁ) ἄχυρος ή ἀχυρός, που κατά τους γραμματικούς και λεξικογράφους σημαίνει ἀχυρών.11 Είναι η πρώτη φορά που μαθαίνομε με βεβαιότητα το όνομα αυτής της κώμης. Όμως σε αμφίγραφο μολύβδινο έλασμα, που βρέθηκε στην Αγορά του Άργους, σε στρώμα που χρονολογείται από τους ανασκαφείς στα τέλη 6ου – αρχές 5ου αι. π. Χ. και του οποίου αναμένεται η οριστική δημοσίευση, αναγράφεται στον στ. 2 της μιας πλευράς: ΑΧΥΡΟΝ Μ. Οι ανασκαφείς εύλογα πρότειναν την ανάγνωση ἀχύρων Μ(ύριαι, ενν. δραχμαί), θεωρώντας ότι πρόκειται για την αξία ποσότητας αχύρων και χαρακτηρίζοντας την επιγραφή αυτής της όψης ως «document comptable».12 Μετά την ανεύρεση των νέων κειμένων, θα πρέπει ίσως να εξετασθεί και η περίπτωση να πρόκειται ενδεχομένως για όνομα μικρής περιοικίδας πόλης που ενσωματώθηκε αργότερα ως κώμη στο Άργος, δεδομένου ότι οι 10.000 δρχ. ως αξία αχύρων φαίνεται μάλλον υπερβολικό ποσόν.13 Ως προς τη θέση της κώμης μόνον υποθέσεις μπορεί να διατυπωθούν. Πιθανώς βρισκόταν στην πεδιάδα, όπου η καλλιέργεια σιτηρών στην αρχαιότητα ήταν εντατικότερη. Στην άλλη πλευρά του μολύβδινου ελάσματος (verso) υπάρχει η επιγραφή Γνάθις ⁝ Ἀριστοβόλō| καλὸς| Λυρκειεύς, που δεν αποδεικνύει όμως κάποια σχέση μεταξύ των κωμών Ἄχυροι και Λύρκεια/Λύρκειον.14

 11 Βλ. π.χ. Ηρωδιαν., Περί καθολ. προσῳδίας, 3.1, σ. 200: ἀχυρὸς ὁ ἀχυρών παρὰ Ἀττικοῖς. Φρύνιχος Αττικογράφος, σ. 9–10, λ. ἀχυρός: …σημαίνει δὲ τὸν ὑπὸ τῶν ἀμαθῶν ἀχυρῶνα καλούμενον. Ἀττικὸν δὲ λίαν ὁ ἀχυρός. καὶ ἡ παροιμία ‘ὄνος εἰς ἀχυρόν’. εὕρηται δὲ καὶ προπαροξυνόμενον. Ησύχ., λ. ἄχυρος· ὁ ἀχυρών. ἀχυροδόκη. ἀποθήκη τῶν ἀχύρων. 12 Piérart/Thalman 1987, 591. Πρβλ. Catling 1986–1987, σ. 18, εικ. 23. 13 Η φωτογραφία της επιγραφής δεν θα απέκλειε την ανάγνωση ΑΧΥΡΟΙ, αλλά χωρίς αυτοψία δεν μπορεί να υπάρχει βεβαιότητα. 14 Βλ. Piérart 1997, 334–335. Πρβλ. SEG 48, 408, όπου όμως τα δείγματα της μορφής των γραμμάτων εκλήφθηκαν εσφαλμένα ότι είναι το «document comptable» της κύριας όψης (recto) της επιγραφής, ενώ και το κύριον όνομα της άλλης πλευράς τονίζεται εσφαλμένα Γνᾶθις.

  Charalampos B. Kritzas

Ἐλαιὼν – Ἐλαιοῦς Στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες απαντά αρκετές φορές με τους τύπους Ἐλαιϝṓν και Ἐλαιϝṓνς, με επικρατέστερο τον πρώτο.15 Θεωρώ πιθανότερο να πρόκειται για δύο παραλλαγές του ονόματος της ίδιας κώμης, με την οποία πρέπει να συνδέεται η φράτρα των Ἐλαιέων.16 Ήταν ήδη γνωστή από γραμματειακές και επιγραφικές μαρτυρίες.17 Η θέση της κώμης έχει ταυτιστεί με ερείπια στην ευρύτερη περιοχή του σύγχρονου οικισμού Σπηλιωτάκη ΝΔ του Άργους, ειδικότερα στη θέση Άγιος Δημήτριος.18 Στην περιοχή υπάρχουν εκτεταμένα ερείπια κτηρίων, νεκροταφεία και άλλα αρχαιολογικά λείψανα που κλιμακώνονται χρονολογικά από τον 6ο αιώνα π.Χ. μέχρι και την βυζαντινή περίοδο. Ιδιαίτερο ενδιαφέρον παρουσιάζει ναϊκό οικοδόμημα με διπλό σηκό που ανέσκαψε ο Νικόλαος Βερδελής (βλ. ανωτ.), το οποίο ανήκε πιθανώς στην Δήμητρα και Κόρη. Βρίσκεται περί τα 500 μ. δυτικά του μικρού σιδηροδρομικού σταθμού του σύγχρονου οικισμού Σπηλιωτάκη.19 Κοντά στον ναό βρέθηκε πλούσιος αποθέτης με πήλινα ειδώλια και αγγεία. Η Άννα Μπανάκα (ανωτ. σ. 97) ανέσκαψε αρχαίο νεκροταφείο με 53 τάφους και μικρό τμήμα αρχαίου οικισμού. Είναι βέβαιον ότι η περιοχή έχει ακόμη να δώσει πολλά αν γίνουν συστηματικές ανασκαφές. Το τοπωνύμιο είναι βεβαίως φυτωνυμικό.20 Η περιοχή που είναι ημιορεινή αλλά και κοντά στη θάλασσα ενδείκνυται για καλλιέργεια ελαιοδένδρων, την ύπαρξη των οποίων σημείωσε και ο Ludwig Ross. Εκτός από τον ομώνυμο αττικό δήμο της Ιπποθωντίδος

 15 Υπάρχουν και άλλα παραδείγματα κωμών του Άργους με παραλλαγές του τύπου της ονομασίας των, όπως Ἡραΐς – Ηε̄ ραΐς, Καρνεία – Καρνειάς, Κικίνειον – Κικένειον (Κικε̄́ νειον / Κικήνειον;), Λύρκεια – Λύρκειον, Πρόσυμνα – Πρόσυμμνα – Πρόσυνμνα, Σόλυμνα – Σόλυνμνα. Πάντως δεν μπορεί να αποκλειστεί εντελώς η περίπτωση να πρόκειται για δύο διαφορετικές κώμες με παραπλήσια ονομασία. Πρβλ. κατωτ. Φλειϝṓν – Φλειοῦς. 16 Στους νέους πίνακες το όνομα της φράτρας, που ανήκε πιθανότατα στην φυλή των Ὑρναθίων, απαντά με τις γραφές Ηελαιεῖς (με πλεοναστική δάσυνση) και Ἐλαιεῖς. 17 Βλ. για παράδειγμα Απολλόδωρος, Βιβλιοθ., 2.80. Ηρωδιαν., Περί καθολ. προσῳδίας, 3.1, p. 242. Στέφ. Βυζ., Εθνικ., 263, στ. 22, λ. Ἐλαιοῦς. Για μνείες της κώμης σε επιγραφές βλ. Charneux 1984, 217– 219. Η επιτύμβια στήλη που βρέθηκε στην Ύδρα με την επιγραφή Λεόντιχος Εὐβοίου Ἐλαιούσιος και συνδέθηκε από τους παλαιούς λογίους Κοφινιώτη και Λαμπρόπουλο με τον Ἐλαιοῦντα του Άργους είναι αττική με το δημοτικό Ἐλαιούσιος. Βλ. Μπανάκα-Δημάκη 1999, 97 και σημ. 41, που επαναλαμβάνει την γνώμη των προηγουμένων. 18 Βλ. Ross 1841, 155–156. Βερδελής 1964, 121–122 και πίν. 119–122. Pritchett 1991, 170–173. 177 εικ. 10 και πίν. 164–165. Μπανάκα-Δημάκη 1999, 92–97. 19 Για τον ίδιο ναό βλ. πρόσφατα Fusco 2018, σ. 113, σημ. 55 και σ. 123, εικ. 6 με κάτοψη του διπλού ναού αρ. 3. 20 Για αυτό και για άλλα ανάλογα βλ. Grasberger 1888, 241–242. RE V,2 (1905), λ. Elaious.

Φυτωνυμικά τοπωνύμια Κωμών της Αργολίδος  

φυλής,21 πόλεις ή τοποθεσίες με το όνομα Ἐλαιοῦς υπήρχαν στην Προποντίδα, στην ακτή της Θρακικής Χερσονήσου,22 στην Ήπειρο,23 στην Κιλικία (νησίδα).24 Τοποθεσία (;) Ἐλαιοῦς υπήρχε στην Κύπρο με ιερό του Διός, ο οποίος επίσης έφερε την επωνυμία Ἐλαιοῦς.25 Τοποθεσία Ἐλαιοῦς μαρτυρείται επιγραφικά επίσης στην Τήνο.26

Κενχρεαί (Κεγχρεαί) Το τοπωνύμιο απαντά μία φορά στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες και είναι η πρώτη ρητή μαρτυρία ότι πρόκειται για κώμη του Άργους. Είχαμε μέχρι τώρα μνείες των Κεγχρεών από γραμματειακές πηγές.27 Ο William Kendrick Pritchett τοποθετεί τις Κεγχρεές στη θέση Νερά, στην Αγία Παρασκευή, νοτιοδυτικά των Μύλων.28 Με την ταύτιση συμφωνεί και ο Γιάννης Α. Πίκουλας.29 Τόσο ο Pritchett (σ. 67–74) όσο και ο Πίκουλας (σ. 271) αποκλείουν την ταύτιση των πολυανδρίων των Κεγχρεών που αναφέρει ο Παυσανίας με την λεγόμενη πυραμίδα στο Ελληνικό, κοντά στο Κεφαλάρι, όπου συνήθως τοποθετούσαν τις Κεγχρεές (Πίκουλας 1995, 208–209). Με το θέμα της ταύτισης της θέσης των Κεγχρεών ασχολήθηκε μεταξύ άλλων και ο Πιτερός, ο οποίος επικαλούμενος το γεγονός ότι το τοπωνύμιο εκφέρεται σε πληθυντικό αριθμό, θεωρεί ότι πιθανώς να υπήρχαν δύο γειτονικοί οικισμοί με το ίδιο όνομα, ένας «άνω» στη θέση Νερά και ένας «κάτω» στη θέση Ζόγκα.30 Σχετικά πρόσφατα η Μπανάκα – Δημάκη διατύπωσε και εκείνη με κάποια επιφύλαξη την υπόθεση για πιθανή ταύτιση των Κεγχρεών με την αρχαία θέση στην περιοχή του οικισμού Ζόγκα, 4 χιλιόμετρα δυτικώς του Κεφαλαρίου, όπου βρέθηκαν τάφοι, κεραμική και ειδώλια αρχαϊκών και κλασικών χρόνων, θεωρώντας το ενδεχόμενο πολύ δελεαστικό.31  21 Παραδίδεται και με την παραλλαγή Ἐλαιεύς. Το δημοτικό ήταν Ἐλαιούσιος. Ηρωδιαν., Περί καθολ. προσῳδίας 3.1.121, και 241–242. Στέφ. Βυζ., Εθνικ. 263. 22 Βλ. π.χ. Θουκυδ. 8.102.1. Ξενοφ., Ελλην. 2.1.20. Ψ-Σκύλαξ 67. Ηρωδιαν., Περί καθολ. προσῳδίας, 3.1.242. Στέφ. Βυζ., Εθνικ. 263. Πρβλ. Robert 1948, 39–40. 23 Πτολεμαίος, Γεωγρ. 3.13.5. 24 Στράβων 14.2.14 (πρβλ. 12.2.7 με την παραλλαγή Ἐλαιοῦσσα. Νησίδα με το ίδιο όνομα υπήρχε και στη Ρόδο, Στράβων 14.2.4). 25 Ησύχ., λ. Ἐλαιοῦς. 26 IG XII.5 , 872, στ. 42, 61 κλπ. 27 Κυρίως Παυσ. 2.24.7, όπου κάνει λόγο για χωρίον στον δρόμο από Τεγέα προς Άργος, δεξιά του καλουμένου Τρόχου ή Τροχοῦ. Οι γραφές των κωδίκων είναι Κεγχρειαί ή Κεγχρεῖαι. Στράβων 8.6.17 (376), που τις τοποθετεί και αυτός στον δρόμο από Τεγέα προς Άργος, που διέρχεται από το Παρθένιον όρος. Για σχετικές μνείες άλλων πηγών βλ. RE XI.1 (1921), στήλες 165–167 (Bölte). 28 Βλ. Pritchett 1980, 54–74 με βιβλιογραφία και χάρτη σ. 140 και μεγαλύτερο στο τέλος του βιβλίου. 29 Πίκουλας 1995, 270–271, πρβλ. σ. 141–143. Ο Πίκουλας πάντως (σ. 272) δεν αποκλείει και την περίπτωση να ταυτίζονται οι Κεγχρεές με τη θέση του νεώτερου οικισμού Ζόγκα (βλ. κατωτ.). 30 Πιτερός 1998, 358–359. 31 Μπανάκα-Δημάκη 1999, 98–99 και σχέδιο σ. 92. Πρβλ. SEG 51, 409.

  Charalampos B. Kritzas Ο Παυσανίας (ο. π.) συνδέει ετυμολογικά τις Κεγχρεές με τον Κεχρίαν,32 γιο της Πειρήνης. Όμως πρόκειται μάλλον για φυτωνυμικό τοπωνύμιο από το αγρωστώδες ὁ/ἡ κέγχρος (κεχρί), που αποκαλείται και κέρχνος, το οποίο ευδοκιμεί κυρίως σε υγρά εδάφη.33 Η άποψη αυτή επιβεβαιώνεται και από τους στίχους που ο Αισχύλος θέτει στο στόμα της Ιούς (Προμηθ. Δεσμ., 676–7): ᾖσσον πρὸς εὔποτόν τε Κερχνείας ῥέος / Λέρνης τε κρήνην. Φαίνεται ότι μια παραλλαγή του ονόματος της κώμης (ή της εκεί πηγής;) θα ήταν Κερχνεία.34 Το τοπωνύμιο Κεγχρεαί (με παραλλαγές της γραφής) απαντά και σε άλλες περιοχές, όπως για παράδειγμα το γνωστό λιμάνι της Κορίνθου στον Σαρωνικό,35 μία πολίχνη στην περιοχή της Τρωάδος,36 ομώνυμη θέση με ιερό του Ασκληπιού στον δήμο Άργους της περιοχής Λίνδου στη Ρόδο,37 περιοχή Κεγχρέα της Μυτιλήνης με υδραγωγείο,38 τοποθεσία Κεγχριαί (= Κεγχρειαί) κοντά στην Λάμψακο της Τρωάδος.39 Τέλος, με το όνομα Κεγχρεαί παραδίδεται και μία πόλη της Ιταλίας.40 Το τοπωνύμιο απαντά σε διάφορα μέρη μέχρι και σήμερα.41

Κικίνειον Πρόκειται για αμάρτυρη μέχρι τώρα κώμη. Στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες απαντά δύο φορές με τον τύπο Κικίνειον και μία φορά με τον τύπο Κικένειον (Κικήνειον;). Το όνομα θυμίζει τον αττικό δήμο Κίκυννα της Ακαμαντίδος φυλής.42 Το δημοτικό Κικυννεύς παραδίδεται από τον Ησύχιο (στον πληθυντικό) με τον τύπο Κικινῆς, που συμφωνεί με την ορθογραφία της αργειακής κώμης. Ο August Fick το θεωρεί φυτωνυμικό και το συνέδεσε με τη γλώσσα του Ησύχιου κεικύνη· συκάμινος.43 Λιγότερο πιθανή είναι η ενδεχόμενη σχέση με τη λέξη το κίκι. Στην Αίγυπτο κίκι, γεν. κίκεως ονομαζόταν το

 32 Στους κώδικες έχομε τις γραφές Κεγχρειόν ή Κέγχριον. 33 Πρβλ. κατωτ. σχόλια στο λ. Μελινίς. 34 Πρβλ. Bursian 1868, II, σ. 66, σημ. 1. 35 Βλ. RE XI.1, στ. 167–170, αρ 2. 36 RE XI.1, στ. 170, αρ. 3. 37 RE XI.1, στ. 170, αρ. 4. Βλ. επιγραφή του 4ου αι. π. Χ. IG XII.1, 26: Νικασικράτης Μνασιδώρο[υ] | Ἀσκληπιῶ[ι] τ̣ ῶι ἐν Κενχρεαῖ[ς] | ταῖς ἐν Ἄργει καὶ Ὑγιείαι. 38 IG XII.2, 103; RE XI.1, στ. 170, αρ. 5. 39 RE XI.1, στ. 170, αρ. 6. 40 Βλ. Ηρωδιαν., Περί καθολ. προσῳδίας 3.1, σ. 284. Πρβλ. Στεφάνου Βυζαντίου, Εθνικά, σ. 371. 41 Βλ. Πιτερός 1998, 358, σημ. 66. 42 Βλ. RE XI.1, στ. 382–383 (Bölte). 43 Fick 1905, 67. Το συσχετίζει επίσης με το χωρίο του Θεογνώστου Γραμματικού, Κανόνες, 598 (101, 7) που παραδίδει τη γραφή κίκυνα.

Φυτωνυμικά τοπωνύμια Κωμών της Αργολίδος  

λάδι (κίκινον έλαιον, κοινώς ρετσινόλαδο) το οποίο παραγόταν κυρίως από τα σπέρματα του φυτού ρίκινος ο κοινός (ricinus communis), που στην Ελλάδα φύεται άγριο.44 Στον Παγασητικό κόλπο μια νήσος και η ομώνυμη πολίχνη ονομαζόταν Κικύνηθος (Παλαιό Τρίκκερι).45 Σημειώνομε τέλος τη λ. κίκιννος = βόστρυχος,46 καθώς και τα σχετικά κύρια ονόματα Κίκινος σε αρχαϊκές επιγραφές της Θήρας47 και Κικιννᾶς στη Μ. Ασία.48

Μελινίς Το τοπωνύμιο Μελινίς απαντά μία φορά στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες. Το όνομα της κώμης, με τον τύπο Μέλινα, ήταν μέχρι τώρα γνωστό από σχετικό λήμμα του Στεφάνου Βυζαντίου, από το οποίο τεκμαίρεται ότι πιθανότατα λατρευόταν εκεί η Αφροδίτη Μελιναία.49 Στα σχόλια του Λυκόφρονος το επίθετο της θεάς συνδέεται έμμεσα, ίσως από παρετυμολογία, με το μέλι.50 Είναι όμως πιθανότερο το τοπωνύμιο να είναι φυτωνυμικό και να σχετίζεται με το φυτό (η) μελίνη ή (ο) μέλινος (Setaria italica), που ήταν ένα είδος κέγχρου, συγγενές με την ἔλυμον.51 Το φυτό χαρακτηρίζεται από τους λεξικογράφους και συγγραφείς άλλοτε ως βοτάνη και άλλοτε ως όσπριον.52 Για συστηματική καλλιέργεια της μελίνης στη Μικρά Ασία κάνει λόγο ο Ξενοφών.53 Επιγραφικές μνείες για την καλλιέργεια μελίνας έχομε μεταξύ άλλων στους απολογισμούς του Ταυρομενίου.54 Στο διάταγμα του Διοκλητιανού περί των τιμών αναφέρεται κέγχρος κε-

 44 Το κίκι μνημονεύουν πολλοί αρχαίοι συγγραφείς και παπυρικά κείμενα, όπως για παράδειγμα Ηρόδοτ., 2.94.3 (αποκαλεί το φυτό σιλλικύπριον). Πλάτ., Τίμαιος, 60α κλπ., ενώ το κίκινον έλαιον μνημονεύουν πολλοί φυσιογνώστες και ιατρικοί συγγραφείς, π.χ. Διοσκουρίδης, Περί ύλης ιατρικής 1.32.1; 4.161.1 κλπ. (το αναφέρει ως κίκι ή κρότων ο κοινός). Γαληνός 11, σ. 734. 45 Βλ. Ψ-Σκύλαξ 64. Στράβων 9.5.15. RE XI.1, στ. 382 (Bürchner). 46 Βλ. π.χ. Αριστοφ., Σφήκες 1069. 47 IG XII.3, 552 και 1435. 48 Robert 1963, 269. Πρβλ. τη γλώσσα του Ησύχιου κικιννᾶς· τριχοπλάστης. 49 Στέφ. Βυζ., λ. Μέλινα, πόλις Ἄργους, ἀφ’ἧς Ἀφροδίτη Μελιναία τιμᾶται. Λυκόφρων «τὴν Καστνίαν καὶ Μελιναίαν θεόν». Πρβλ. Λυκόφρ., Αλεξ. 403. 50 Βλ. Σχόλια εις Λυκόφρ., Αλεξ. 403 (έκδ. Weidmann, τ. 2, Berlin, 1958): Μελινναία δὲ ἡ Ἀφροδίτη, ἴσως διὰ τὸ γλυκὺ καὶ ἐνήδονον τῆς μίξεως…Μελινναίαν τὴν αὐτὴν διὰ τὸ ἡδὺ τῆς συνουσίας. 51 Για το είδος, που διέφερε από την κοινή κέγχρον (Panicum miliaceum), βλ. Amigues 2005, 389. Πρβλ. το τοπωνύμιο Κεγχρεαί. 52 Βλ. μεταξύ άλλων Θεόφρ., Περί φυτών ιστορίας 8.1.1 και 4.8, 3.2 κλπ. Ησύχ., 714, λ. μελίνη· ὀσπρίου εἶδος ὅμοιον κέγχρῳ. Επίσης 2370, λ, κέρχνη· τὸ ἐκ τῆς μελίνης ἕψημα. Αρποκρ., Λέξεις των δέκα ρητόρων, λ. μελίνη. Πρβλ. Σούδα, λ. μελίνη. 53 Ξενοφ., Ανάβ. 1.2.22, 1.5.10, 2.4.13. 54 Βλ. IG XIX, 423, col. I, στ. 35; col. II, στ. 34; col. III, στ. 29; Πρβλ. Guarducci 2019, 240.

  Charalampos B. Kritzas κομμένος καθαρός, προς 100 δηνάρια ο μόδιος, κέγχρος ἄκοπος (50 δην./μόδ.) και μελίνη καθαρά (50 δην./μόδ.).55 Από την μελίνη παρασκευαζόταν άλευρο που κατανάλωναν ορισμένοι λαοί, τα σπέρματα όμως αποτελούσαν τροφή πτηνών σε κλωβούς.56 Η ακριβής θέση της κώμης δεν είναι γνωστή. Αν για την καλλιέργεια της μελίνης απαιτούντο οι ίδιες εδαφικές και αρδευτικές συνθήκες όπως και για τον/την κέγχρον, θα πρέπει μάλλον να ήταν σε πεδινή και υδροφόρα περιοχή.

Fοινόα (Οἰνόα, -η) Το τοπωνύμιο απαντά μία φορά στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες. Πρόκειται για αρχικά ανεξάρτητη πόλη της Αργολίδας και μετέπειτα κώμη του Άργους, γνωστή τόσο από γραμματειακές μαρτυρίες όσο και από αρχαιολογικά ευρήματα. Έγινε γνωστή από την επώνυμη μάχη που συνήφθη εκεί το 456 π. Χ. μεταξύ Αργείων και Αθηναίων εναντίον των Σπαρτιατών, σκηνές της οποίας είχαν απεικονιστεί στην Ποικίλη Στοά.57 Ο Παυσανίας την χαρακτηρίζει ως χωρίον Οἰνόη και την συναντά στον δρόμο που οδηγεί από τις πύλες τις πρὸς τῇ Δειράδι προς την Τεγέα, μόλις περάσει τον Χάραδρο ποταμό (σημερινό Ξεριά).58 Ο Στέφανος Βυζάντιος την χαρακτηρίζει ως πόλιν του Άργους και παραδίδει δύο τύπους του ονόματός της: Οἴνη (το εθνικό Οἰναῖος) και Οἰνώη (το εθνικό Οἰνωάτης).59 Ο Pritchett την τοποθετεί κοντά στο χωριό Μερκούρι(ον) (Μάζι).60 Ο Πίκουλας την ταυτίζει με βεβαιότητα με τον ερειπιώνα στις νότιες υπώρειες του Αγριλόβουνου (υψόμ. 323 μ.) και στη θέση Σπηλιά, στη βόρεια (αριστερή) όχθη του Χαράδρου, στη διασταύρωση του δρόμου για την Αρία / Μάζι της Κοινότητας Καρυάς.61 Ο ίδιος τονίζει τη σημασία της ως οδικού κόμβου, με πέντε αμαξήλατες οδούς να διέρχονται από εκεί.62 Ο Παυσανίας αναφέρει την παράδοση ότι η πόλη έλαβε το όνομά της από τον Αιτωλό βασιλιά Οινέα, που μετά την εκβολή του από την εξουσία κατέφυγε στον Διομήδη του Άργους.63 Η πραγματική ετυμολογία πρέπει να έχει σχέση με την αμπελοκαλλιέργεια και την παραγωγή οίνου. Πόλεις ή τοποθεσίες με το ίδιο όνομα είναι γνωστές και αλλού.64 Συγκεκριμένα το όνομα έφεραν δύο Αττικοί δήμοι (Οινόη παρά τας Ελευθεράς και Οινόη της Τετραπόλεως του Μαραθώνος), Κορινθιακό  55 Βλ. αντίγραφο Αιγείρας, στήλη Ι, στίχ. 4–6. Πρώτη δημοσίευση: Στάης 1899, στήλ. 146–155. Πρόχειρη αναζήτηση: Prantl 2011, 368. 384, στίχ. 4–6. 56 Ο Ξενοφών, Ανάβ. 7.5.12 αναφέρει την Θρακική φυλή των Μελινοφάγων. 57 Παυσ. 1.15.1. 58 Παυσ. 2.25.2. 59 Στέφ. Βυζ., Εθνικ., σ. 486, λ. Οἴνη. 60 Pritchett 1980, 2–12, με πλήρη βιβλιογραφία. Πρβλ. Pritchett 1991, 222–226. 61 Πίκουλας 1995, 260–261, με βιβλιογραφία. 62 Πίκουλας 1995, 291. 63 Παυσ. 2.25.2. 64 Βλ. RE XVII.2, 2235–2244, s. v. Oinoe (E. Meyer), 2244 (J. Schmidt).

Φυτωνυμικά τοπωνύμια Κωμών της Αργολίδος  

φρούριο στη ΒΔ ακτή της Μεγαρίδος, πόλη ή τοποθεσία της Λακωνίας, αναφερόμενη μόνο από τον Πτολεμαίο,65 πόλη Οἰνεών ή Οἰνόη στη Δυτική Λοκρίδα, πηγή βορείως του Φενεού, τοποθεσία στην περιοχή της Ήλιδος, ενώ Οἰνόη ή Οἰνοίη ήταν επίσης άλλη ονομασία της νήσου Σικίνου.

Ῥοδοῦσσα Το τοπωνύμιο δεν απαντά στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες και δεν είναι γνωστή η θέση του. Είναι γνωστό μόνο από τον Στέφανο Βυζ., λ. Ῥοδοῦσσα· πόλις τῆς Ἀργείας· τὸ ἐθνικὸν Ῥοδούσσιος ὡς Πιτυούσσιος, καὶ Ῥοδουσσαῖος. Όμοια ονομασία έφερε και μια νησίδα στις ακτές της Καρίας, κοντά στην Καύνο, ενώ Ῥοδοῦσσαι νῆσοι εκαλούντο δύο νησίδες της Προποντίδος, ίσως η Οξιά και η Πλάτη. Στην ίδια οικογένεια ανήκουν τα τοπωνύμια Ῥόδος, Ῥόδη, Ῥοδόπη, Ῥοδία, Ῥοδ(ι)όπολις, Ῥοδουντία. Τα τοπωνύμια έχουν σχέση με το φυτό ῥοδῆ (τριανταφυλλιά), το άνθος του ῥόδον (λαλοῦν σύμβολον στα νομίσματα της Ῥόδου) και ειδικά η Ῥοδόπη με το ῥόδεον χρώμα.66

Σφάκος Το αμάρτυρο μέχρι τώρα τοπωνύμιο απαντά δύο φορές ως όνομα κώμης στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες. Η θέση της είναι άγνωστη. Είναι σχεδόν βέβαιο ότι πρόκειται για φυτώνυμο, από το όνομα του άγριου αρωματικού θάμνου σφάκος ή ἐλελίσφακος (ο), την γνωστή φασκομηλιά (salvia species, salvia fruticosa vel pomifera vel triloba, γαλλ. sauge, αγγλ. sage).67 Τα εντόνως αρωματικά φύλλα του χρησιμοποιούνται μέχρι σήμερα για την παρασκευή αφεψημάτων αλλά και αρωματικού ελαίου (φασκομηλόλαδου) με φαρμακευτικές ιδιότητες. Ήδη στην μυκηναϊκή εποχή αρωμάτιζαν με σφάκον το ελαιόλαδο, που χρησιμοποιούσαν μάλλον ως καλλυντικό.68 Επί πλέον είναι βρώσιμα τα περίπου σφαιρικά εξογκώματα που δημιουργούνται στους κλάδους του σφάκου από έκκριμα του φυτού, όταν κάποιο έντομο το τρυπήσει για να εναποθέσει εκεί τα αυγά του. Πρόκειται για τα φασκόμηλα ή φασκομηλόμηλα της σάλβιας μηλοφόρου τα οποία έχουν γεύση γλυκού φρούτου.69  65 Πτολεμ. 3.14.43. 66 Βλ. τα σχετικά λήμματα στην RE β΄ σειρά, τ.1, Α1, στ. 955–958. 67 Σε ορισμένες αρχαίες γραμματειακές πηγές η λέξη είναι οξύτονη, σφακός. Για τις ποικίλες αρχαίες ονομασίες βλ. κυρίως Θεόφρ., Περί φυτών ιστορίας 6.1.4 και 6.2.5 (όπου αναφέρει τις διαφορές των φύλλων του σφάκου και του ἐλελισφάκου). Διοσκουρ., Περί ύλης ιατρικής 3.33. 68 Πρόκειται για το e-ra-wo pa-ko-we (ἔλαιον σφακόFεν) των πινακίδων της Γραμμικής γραφής Β. 69 Ο Γάλλος περιηγητής γιατρός και βοτανολόγος J. Pitton de Tournefort, που επισκέφθηκε την Κρήτη το 1700–1702, αναφέρει στην δεύτερη «επιστολή» ότι τα φασκόμηλα επωλούντο ως φρούτα

  Charalampos B. Kritzas Ο Ησύχιος παραδίδει και δύο άλλες σημασίες της λέξης: α) λ. σφάκος· χόρτος, ὃν τὰ κτήνη ἐσθίει. οἱ δὲ τὸ ἐπὶ τῶν δρυῶν ἐπιγεννώμενον, ὃ καλοῦσι βρύον. οὐκ εὖ. ἐκεῖνος γὰρ φά(σ)κος λέγεται. β) λ. βρύα· ἃ γίνεται μὲν ἐπὶ τῶν πετρῶν, λέγεται δὲ καὶ σφακός. (sic). Σήμερα στην Κρήτη αποκαλείται σφάκα (η) το φυτό πικροδάφνη ή ροδοδάφνη (νήριον, nerium oleander) και υπάρχει χωριό με το ίδιο όνομα στην επαρχία Σητείας. Χωριό Σφάκα υπάρχει επίσης και στην επαρχία Λοκρίδος του νομού Φθιώτιδος. Είναι γνωστά επίσης τα Σφακιά, η ορεινή περιοχή στο ΝΑ τμήμα του νομού Χανίων, ενώ υπάρχει χωριό Σφακοπηγάδι στην επαρχία Κισάμου. Ιδιαίτερο ενδιαφέρον παρουσιάζει το όνομα του χωριού Σφακός (ο) στην επαρχία Σελίνου του νομού Χανίων, που διατηρεί τον τονισμό της δεύτερης γλώσσας του Ησύχιου.

Φλειϝṓν ή Φλεῖϝον; Με τον τύπο Φλειϝον απαντά δύο φορές ως όνομα αμάρτυρης μέχρι τώρα κώμης στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες, που είναι άγνωστης τοποθεσίας (βλ. κατωτ.). Το όνομά της πρέπει μάλλον να διαβαστεί ως αρσενικό, ο ΦλειFών, (κατά τα Μαραθών, Ἑλικών κλπ.) και όχι ως ουδέτερο, το Φλεῖϝον, που με τη γραφή Φλίον απαντά ως όνομα ακρωτηρίου της Χίου.70 Έχει το ίδιο θέμα με το όνομα της πόλης Φλ(ε)ιοῦς, με την οποία όμως δεν ταυτίζεται διότι αυτή ουδέποτε έγινε κώμη του Άργους.71 Είναι πολύ πιθανό να ταυτίζεται με τον οικισμό Φλιοῦς, που αναφέρει ο Κλαύδιος Πτολεμαίος μεταξύ των παράλιων πόλεων και θέσεων της Αργείας, ως ευρισκόμενο στην ανατολική ακτή του Αργολικού κόλπου, μεταξύ Ναυπλίας και Ερμιόνης.72 Η περιγραφή των παραλίων της Πελοποννήσου αρχίζει στο 3.14.25 και διακρίνεται σαφώς από την περιγραφή των μεσογείων, όπου μεταξύ των πόλεων της Σικυωνίας αναφέρει και τον γνωστό Φλιούντα, με διαφορετικές συντεταγμένες.73 Περιέργως ούτε στην RE ούτε στο λεξικό των Pape/ Benseler γίνεται μνεία της συγκεκριμένης κώμης. Πάντως στα ανατολικά παράλια του Αργολικού κόλπου, παρά την αλλαγή της στάθμης της θάλασσας, υπάρχουν αρκετές ημιελώδεις θέσεις (όπως π.χ. το Βιβάρι, οι παραλίες Κάντιας, Ιρίων κλπ.) που θα μπορούσαν να δικαιολογήσουν το φυτωνυμικό τοπωνύμιο Φλιοῦς.

 στην αγορά. Βλ. Pitton de Tournefort 2003, 91. Γενικά για το φυτό Salvia cretica frutescens pomifera, σ. 89–91. 70 Αγαθήμερος 4.18. Η ορθή γραφή πρέπει να είναι μάλλον με περισπωμένη, πρβλ. Ηρωδιαν., Περί καθολ. προσῳδίας 3.1.110: Φλῖος ὁ Διόνυσος καὶ ὄνομα πόλεως, ὃ διφορεῖται κατὰ τὴν γραφὴν (με ι και ει). 71 Πρβλ. ανάλογα ζεύγη τοπωνυμίων με το ίδιο θέμα, όπως π.χ. Ἐλαιὼν – Ἐλαιοῦς (ανωτ.), Ἐλισσὼν – Ἐλισσοῦς, Ἑλικὼν – Ἑλικοῦς, μυρρινὼν – Μυρρινοῦς, Φοινικὼν – Φοινικοῦς κλπ. 72 Κλ. Πτολεμαίος, Γεωγρ. 3.14.33: Φλιοῦς να δ λε γ ιβ. 73 Κλ. Πτολεμαίος, Γεωγρ. 3.14.37: Σικυωνίας μεσόγειοι Φλιοῦς νγ λστ γο.

Φυτωνυμικά τοπωνύμια Κωμών της Αργολίδος  

Δεν θα μπορούσε πάντως να αποκλειστεί η (λιγότερο πιθανή) υπόθεση ότι δημοκρατικοί φυγάδες από τον Φλειούντα εγκαταστάθηκαν σε κάποια κώμη μέσα στα όρια της Αργείας. Ο Ξενοφών αναφέρει χαρακτηριστικά ότι κατά τον λεγόμενο πόλεμο του Φλειούντος το 367 π. Χ, οι Αργείοι είχαν κατασκευάσει οχυρό στο όρος Τρικάρανον στην περιοχή της Φλειασίας, στο οποίο είχαν εγκατασταθεί δημοκρατικοί φυγάδες από τον Φλειούντα, το οποίο φαίνεται να διατήρησαν και μετά την σύναψη ειρήνης μεταξύ Θηβαίων, Αργείων, Κορινθίων και Φλειασίων το 365 π. Χ.74 Ετυμολογικά τα δύο τοπωνύμια συνδέονται άμεσα, γιατί και τα δύο είναι φυτωνυμικά και παράγονται από ένα αρχικό θέμα *phleiụo/φλειFο, που στην αττική διάλεκτο έδωσε το φυτώνυμο (ο) φλέως, -ω, ένα υδροχαρές καλαμοειδές φυτό με θυσανωτό ανθοφόρο στέλεχος, γνωστό με το επιστημονικό όνομα Erianthus Ravennae.75 Με τα φύλλα του έπλεκαν ψάθες, καλάθια και σχοινιά.76 Επομένως το τοπωνύμιο ΦλειFών σημαίνει ότι και το Δονακών («ο καλαμιώνας») που μαρτυρείται στην περιοχή των Θεσπιών.77 Πράγματι ο Φλειούς, εκτός από την ακρόπολη, βρίσκεται σε πεδινή ημιελώδη περιοχή. Το ίδιο θα πρέπει να συνέβαινε και με την παραλιακή κώμη ΦλειFών, αν δεν ισχύει η υπόθεση περί εγκατάστασης στο Τρικάρανον που προαναφέραμε.

Φοίνικες Αμάρτυρη μέχρι τώρα κώμη, άγνωστης τοποθεσίας, που απαντά μία φορά στους νέους χαλκούς πίνακες. Επειδή οι φοίνικες ευδοκιμούν κυρίως σε παραθαλάσσια και έφυδρα μέρη με ήπιο κλίμα, θα πρέπει η κώμη να βρισκόταν σε αντίστοιχο φυσικό περιβάλλον.78 Αυτούσιο το τοπωνύμιο απαντά στη Δήλο, ως ονομασία κτηματικής  74 Βλ. Ξενοφών, Ελλην. 7.2.1 και 7.4.11: Οἱ δὲ Ἀργεῖοι ὀμόσαντες ἐπὶ τοῖς αὐτοῖς τούτοις εἰρήνην ποιήσασθαι, ἐπεὶ οὐκ ἐδύναντο καταπρᾶξαι ὥστε τοὺς τῶν Φλειασίων φυγάδας μένειν ἐν τῷ Τρικαράνῳ ὡς ἐν τῇ ἑαυτῶν πόλει ἔχοντας, παραλαβόντες ἐφρούρουν, φάσκοντες σφετέραν τὴν γῆν ταύτην εἶναι, ἣν ὀλίγῳ πρότερον ὡς πολεμίαν οὖσαν ἐδῄουν. [Μετάφραση Μ. Δαφέρμου: Αλλ’ οι Αργείοι, ενώ ωρκίσθησαν, ότι θα ειρηνεύσουν υπό τους ιδίους όρους, επειδή δεν ημπόρεσαν να επιτύχουν, ώστε οι εξόριστοι των Φλειασίων να παραμείνουν εις το Τρικάρανον, ως εις περιοχήν ιδικήν των, αφού κατέλαβον την θέσην αυτήν, εγκατέστησαν φρουράν, ισχυριζόμενοι, ότι θα ήτο ιδική των η περιοχή αυτή, την οποίαν εν τούτοις ολίγον πρωτύτερα ελεηλατούσαν ως εχθρικήν]. 75 Για την ετυμολογία βλ. αναλυτικότερα Kritzas 2007, 157, με την παλαιότερη βιβλιογραφία. Σχετικό το ρήμα φλεῖν, που κατά τους λεξικογράφους σημαίνει εὐκαρπεῖν, πολυκαρπεῖν. Πρβλ. τις επωνυμίες του Διονύσου, θεού της βλάστησης και της καρποφορίας της φύσης, Φλεύς, Φλεῖος, Φλεών κλπ. Βλ. Chantraine 1968–1980, λ. Φλεύς. 76 Βλ. π.χ. Γαληνός, Ιπποκράτους γλωσσών εξήγησις 19, σ. 152. Πολυδεύκης, Ονομαστ. 10.178. Carnoy 1959, 228. 77 Παυσ. 9.31.7. 78 Βλ. Θεόφρ., Περί φυτών ιστορίας 4.3.5. Πρβλ. Διόδ. Σικ. 3.42.2 (αναφερόμενος σε παραθαλάσσιο τόπο της Αραβίας με ιερό, που ονομαζόταν Φοινικών από το πλήθος των φοινίκων).

  Charalampos B. Kritzas περιοχής του ιερού του Απόλλωνος που νοικιαζόταν.79 Υπάρχουν πολλά συγγενή τοπωνύμια, όπως Φοῖνιξ, Φοινικών, Φοινικοῦς, Φοινικοῦσσα, Φοινίκη, Φοινικίς κλπ.80

Βιβλιογραφία Amigues, S. (2005), «Glanes naturalistes dans la collection des Universités de France», στο: Rev. Ét. Grec. 118, 382–390. Bursian, C. (1862–1872), Geographie von Griechenland, Leipzig, vol. I (1862), vol. II (1868–1872). Carnoy, A. (1959), «Les noms des végétaux dans la toponymie grecque ancienne», στο: Beiträge zur Namenforschung 10, Heft 3, 221–232. Catling, H. (1986–1987), «Archaeology in Greece, 1986–87», στο: Arch. Rep. 33, 3–61. Chantraine, P. (1968–1980), Dictionnaire étymologique de la langue grecque I (1968), ΙΙ (1970), ΙΙΙ (1974), ΙV (1980), Paris. Charneux, P. (1984), «Phratries et kômai d’Argos», στο: BCH 108, 207–227. Fick, A. (1905), Vorgriechische Ortsnamen als Quelle für die Vorgeschichte Griechenlands, Göttingen. Fusco, U. (2018), «The Sanctuary of Aphrodite and Ares (Paus. 2.25.1) in the Periurban Area of Argos and Temples with a Double Cella in Greece», στο: Τεκμήρια 13 (2015–2018), 97–124. Grasberger, L. (1888), Studien zu den griechischen Ortsnamen, Würzburg (επανέκδοση Amsterdam 19692). Guarducci, M. (2019), Η ελληνική επιγραφική, από τις απαρχές ως την ύστερη Ρωμαϊκή περίοδο, (ελληνική έκδοση 2008, βελτιωμένη επανέκδοση 2019), Αθήνα. Kritzas, Ch. (2006), «Nouvelles inscriptions d’Argos: les archives des comptes du trésor sacré (IVe siècle av. J.-C.», στο: CR Acad. Inscr. 2006/1, 397–434. Κριτζάς, X. (2007), «Ετυμολογικές παρατηρήσεις σε νέα επιγραφικά κείμενα του Άργους», στο: M. B. Hatzopoulos (επιμ.), Φωνής χαρακτήρ εθνικός. Actes du Ve Congrès International de dialectologie grecque (Athènes 28 – 30 sept. 2006), Μελετήματα 52, Αθήνα, 135–160. Κριτζάς, X. (2013), «Οι νέοι χαλκοί ενεπίγραφοι πίνακες από το Άργος. ΙΙ. Πρόδρομη ανακοίνωση», στα: D. Mulliez (επιμ.), Sur les pas de W. Vollgraff. Cent ans d’activités archéologiques à Argos / Στα βήματα του Wilhelm Vollgraff. Εκατό χρόνια αρχαιολογικής δραστηριότητας στο Άργος, Αθήνα 25 – 28 Σεπτεμβρίου 2003, Πρακτικά του Διεθνούς Συνεδρίου που διοργανώθηκε από την Δ΄ ΕΠΚΑ και την Γαλλική Αρχαιολογική Σχολή Αθηνών = Recherches Franco – Helléniques 4, Αθήνα, 275–301. Μπανάκα-Δημάκη, A. (1999), «Αργείτικες Κώμες», στο: ΑΔ 54 A, 91–102. Piérart, M. (1992), «Deux notes sur l’histoire de Mycènes (Ve, III/IΙe s.)», στο: Serta Leodiensia Secunda, Liège, 377–387. Piérart, M. (1997), «L’attitude d’Argos à l’égard des autres cités d’Argolide», στο: Hansen, M.H. (επιμ.), The Polis as an Urban Centre and as Political Community, Symposium August 29–31, 1996, Acts of the Copenhagen Symposium 4, Copenhagen, 321–351. Piérart, M./Thalman, J.-P. (1987), «Rapport sur les travaux de l’École Franҫaise en Grèce en 1986. Argos, 1 Agora», στο: BCH 111, 585–591.

 79 Βλ. IG XI,2, 135, στ. 5 (και αλλού) : Φοινίκων. 161 Α, στ. 13. 162 Α, στ. 11. 225, fr a, στ. 15: [τ]ῆς γῆς τῆς ἐμ Φοίνιξιν. 80 Βλ. Grasberger 1888, 241.

Φυτωνυμικά τοπωνύμια Κωμών της Αργολίδος  

Πίκουλας, Γ. A. (1995), Οδικό δίκτυο και άμυνα: από την Κόρινθο στο Άργος και την Αρκαδία, Ηoros: Η Μεγάλη Βιβλιοθήκη 2, Αθήνα. Πιτερός, X. (1995), «Άρια Ναυπλίου, εξωκλήσι Αγίου Αθανασίου», στο: ΑΔ 50 B1, 110. Πιτερός, X. (1998), «Οι «Πυραμίδες» της Αργολίδας», στο: Πρακτικά 5ου Διεθνούς Συνεδρίου Πελοποννησιακών Σπουδών, Γ, Αθήνα, 344–394. Πιτερός, X. (2006), «Άρια, εξωκλήσι Αγίου Αθανασίου», στο: ΑΔ 61, Β1, 252–253. Πιτερός, X. (2012), «Ναυπλία», στο: Α. Γ. Βλαχόπουλος (επιμ.), Αρχαιολογία. Πελοπόννησος, Αθήνα, 168–169. Pitton de Tournefort, J. (2003), Relation d’un voyage du Levant etc. I–II, Lyon 1717, από τις Πανεπιστημιακές εκδόσεις Κρήτης: Ειρ. Λυδάκη (επιμ.), Ταξίδι στην Κρήτη και τις νήσους του Αρχιπελάγους 1700–1702, Ελληνική έκδοση των 10 πρώτων «επιστολών» του συγγράμματος του J. Pitton de Tournefort, Ηράκλειο. Prantl, M. (2011), «Diocletian’s Edict on Maximum Prices of 301 AD. A fragment found in Aigeira», στο: Historia Scribere 3, 359–398. Pritchett, W.K. (1980), Studies in Ancient Greek Topography (SAGT) III, Berkeley. Pritchett, W.K. (1991), Studies in Ancient Greek Topography (SAGT) VII, Berkeley. Rehm, A. (1914), «Inschriften von Milet», στο: Kawerau, G. / Rehm, A., Das Delphinion in Milet, Milet: Ergebnisse der Ausgrabungen und Untersuchungen seit dem Jahre 1899, Ι, 3, Berlin, 162– 406. Robert, L. (1948), Hellenica. Recueil d’épigraphie, de numismatique et d’antiquités grecques V, Paris. Robert, L. (1963), Noms indigènes dans l’Asie Mineure gréco-romaine, Paris. Ross, L. (1841), Reisen und Reiserouten durch Griechenland, 1. Reisen im Peloponnes, Berlin. Στάης, B. (1899), «Το Διάταγμα του Διοκλητιανού. Δύο νέα τεμάχια ελληνικής μεταφράσεως», στο: Αρχ. Εφ. 1899, στ. 146–155. Βερδελής, N. (1964), «Αργολιδοκορινθία», στο: ΑΔ 19, B1, 121–122. Vollgraff, W.G. (1948), «Le décret d’Argos relatif à un pacte entre Knossos et Tylissos», στο: Verhandeling der Koninklijke Nederlandsche Akademie van Wetenschappen, Afd. Letterkunde, Nieuwe Reeks, 51/2, 1–105. Woodhead, A.G. (1953), «Mycenae, 1939–1952, ΙΙ, 4: The Boundary Stone from the Perseia Fountain House», στο: BSA 48, 27–29.

Dominique Mulliez

Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques Abstract: Private arbitration is an alternative procedure to resolving disputes, through which the parties agree to endeavour to seek a compromise. It is well attested in Athens thanks to the corpus of Attic orators, as well as in Greco-Roman Egypt, and with similar characteristics: prior compromise, which determines the conditions of the arbitration, appointment of arbitrators in varying numbers, contradictory debate in the presence of the arbitrators, sentence without appeal, which may be accompanied by an oath. After presenting the main features of this procedure in each of these two documentary sets, the article establishes the corpus – with translation – of ten Delphic manumissions that mention the use of private arbitration within and only within the framework of a paramone clause. The main features of the procedure at Delphi are the same. Included in the contract, the preliminary compromise invariably establishes at three the number of arbitrators, designated by common agreement between the master and his manumitted slave; these may be appointed as soon as the contract is concluded and, in this case, the procedure for replacing a defaulting member is provided; at the end of the adversarial debate in front of the arbitrators, the award, sometimes guaranteed by an oath, is enforceable. The use of private arbitration remains exceptional in Delphi (10 examples from a corpus of 1273 contracts from 200 BC to the end of the 1st c. AD). While it is a procedure undeniably weighted in favour of the manumitted slave, there are, however, several indications that the agreement between the master and his freed slave is not an inter pares agreement. Moreover, it is no longer met with beyond of the middle of the 2nd c. BC: in the conclusion, some suggestions for this abandonment are put forward.

Le corpus des actes d’affranchissement delphiques offre plusieurs attestations d’arbitrages privés qui méritent assurément de faire l’objet d’une présentation d’ensemble. Comme la procédure qu’on y voit à l’œuvre s’inscrit assez bien dans le cadre général

 Ce m’est un honneur que de pouvoir rendre hommage à Vasileios Petrakos par une modeste contribution qui porte sur un site et une documentation qu’il connaît bien. Si j’ai choisi d’aborder la question de l’arbitrage dans le volume qui lui est dédié, c’est aussi parce que je ne doute pas qu’il eut plus d’une fois à se poser en arbitre dans les différentes fonctions qu’il a exercées et qu’il exerce encore. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-005

  Dominique Mulliez que permettent de définir par ailleurs deux grands ensembles documentaires, le corpus des orateurs attiques et les papyrus de l’Égypte gréco-romaine, il ne me paraît pas inutile d’en rappeler d’abord les principales caractéristiques.

 Une procédure extrajudiciaire pluriséculaire . L’arbitrage privé à Athènes au IVe siècle av. J.-C. Même s’il n’a pas rencontré auprès des chercheurs la même faveur que l’arbitrage public,1 l’arbitrage privé dans l’Athènes classique est une disposition relativement bien connue, essentiellement grâce au corpus des orateurs attiques.2 Constituant une procédure extrajudiciaire,3 l’arbitrage privé a pour finalité de trouver un compromis entre des parties en litige à propos d’un contrat ou d’une convention.4 À la fin du Ve siècle av. J.-C., il a fait l’objet d’une loi, mentionnée dans le Contre Midias de Démosthène :5 Ἐὰν δέ τινες περὶ συμβολαίων ἰδίων πρὸς ἀλλήλους ἀμφισβητῶσι καὶ βούλωνται διαιτητὴν ἑλέσθαι ὁντινοῦν, ἐξέστω αὐτοῖς αἱρεῖσθαι ὃν ἂν βούλωνται διαιτητὴν ἑλέσθαι. Ἐπειδὰν δ᾿ ἕλωνται κατὰ κοινόν, μενέτωσαν ἐν τοῖς ὑπὸ τούτου διαγνωσθεῖσι, καὶ μηκέτι μεταφερέτωσαν ἀπὸ τούτου ἐφ’ ἕτερον δικαστήριον ταὐτὰ ἐγκλήματα, ἀλλ᾿ ἔστω τὰ κριθέντα ὑπὸ τοῦ διαιτητοῦ κύρια. Lorsque des particuliers sont en discussion pour des conventions privées et veulent prendre un arbitre, quel qu’il soit, ils ont le droit de prendre qui ils veulent ; mais, après s’être accordés pour

 1 Pour une orientation bibliographique sur l’arbitrage public à Athènes, voir Κarabélias 2005, 302– 303 n. 8 (à compléter avec Steinwenter 1925, 63–79, et MacDowell 1978, 203–206). L’étude de Gernet 1955, 103–119, demeure incontournable. 2 Synthèse et bibliographie : Κarabélias 2005, où se trouve commodément réunie la presque totalité des références utiles au corpus des orateurs attiques. 3 Le recours à l’arbitrage privé peut suspendre une procédure judiciaire en cours : Isée, La succession de Dikaiogenès [5] 31 ; Démosthène, Contre Apatourios [33] 14, Contre Phormion [34] 18, et Contre Kallippos [52] 14 et 30. 4 Voir Κarabélias 2005, « Section C : les affaires soumises à l’arbitrage privé », 311–317. – Platon, Lois 11.920d, prévoit pareillement le recours à l’arbitrage privé pour « tout engagement contracté et non exécuté conformément au contrat » (ὅσα ἄν τις ὁμολογῶν μὴ ποιεῖ κατὰ τὰς ὁμολογίας. – Τrad. A. Diès, CUF). Sur la mention des arbitres privés chez Aristote, voir Κarabélias 2005, 321–322 et 329–330, qui cite Rhétorique 1.1374b et Politique 4.1297a, auxquels on ajoutera Politique 2.1268b. 5 Démosthène, Contre Midias [21] 94. Sur cette loi, voir également le témoignage de Lysias, frgt. 37.2. Harrison 1971, 65 n. 1, fait également référence à l’inscription IG II2, 179, l. 8 ([κατὰ τὸ]ν διατητικὸν νόμον), mais le contexte renvoie plutôt à un arbitrage public.

Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques  

le choix, ils doivent s’en tenir à la décision de cet arbitre. Ils ne pourront plus soumettre ensuite à un autre tribunal le même litige, mais la décision de l’arbitre sera sans appel. Trad. J. Humbert, L. Gernet, CUF.

L’authenticité de cette loi – qui ne ferait en réalité que mettre en forme un usage attesté antérieurement6 – a été amplement discutée,7 mais son contenu est dans ses grandes lignes confirmé par les données éparses recueillies par ailleurs.8 Souvent conseillé par l’entourage,9 le recours à l’arbitrage privé résulte d’un accord des deux parties10 ou de l’initiative de l’une des parties,11 laquelle peut, le cas échéant, procéder à une sommation (πρόκλησις) adressée à son adversaire pour qu’il accepte la proposition qui lui est faite ;12 mais cette initiative unilatérale, même accompagnée d’une sommation, n’a pas valeur contraignante et, en cas de refus d’une des parties, le litige est porté devant les tribunaux.13 L’arbitrage peut être considéré comme une façon d’échapper aux tracas et aux risques que ne manque pas de susciter une action en justice, le recours aux tribunaux comme une possibilité d’échapper à une sentence arbitrale que l’on devine par avance défavorable pour tenter de gagner les juges à sa cause.14

 6 Voir e. g. Harrison 1971, 65 n. 1, et MacDowell 1978, 204, avec le renvoi incontournable à Andocide, Sur les Mystères [1] 87 (= Démosthène, Contre Timocrate [24] 56). – De manière générale, l’arbitrage relève d’une « conception ancienne » du règlement des conflits, qui, comme l’arbitrage public, « retient des formes archaïques de justice » (Gernet 1955, 107–108) ; voir également Karabélias 2005, 304 n. 13. 7 Résumé des positions chez Gernet 1955, 104 n. 7 ; Harrison 1971, 65 n. 1 ; Karabélias 2005, 303–304 et n. 10. 8 Dans la brève présentation qui suit, je m’en tiens aux aspects les plus formels. Pour une étude d’ensemble, voir Steinwenter 1925, 91–117, et, plus récemment, Karabélias 2005, auquel je renverrai ici afin de ne pas alourdir l’appareil critique. 9 Lysias, Contre Diogiton [32] 2 ; Démosthène, Contre Apatourios [33] 14, Contre Neaira [59] 45. 10 Isée, La succession de Meneklès [2] 29 ; Isocrate, Contre Kallimachos [18] 10 ; Démosthène, Contre Apatourios [33] 14. 11 Lysias, frgt. 37.1 ; Isée, La succession de Dikaiogenès [5] 31 ; Démosthène, Contre Aphobos ΙΙΙ [29] 58, Contre Phormion [34] 18, Contre Boiôtos II [40] 39, Contre Spoudias [41] 14, Contre Néaira [59] 68. 12 Démosthène, Contre Onètôr I [30] 1, Contre Kallippos [52] 14, Contre Dionysodôros [56] 18 (la sommation est répétée et fait l’objet d’un affichage plusieurs jours durant). – Dans le Contre Phainippos [42] 19, une procédure d’ἀντίδοσις, le plaideur adresse à son adversaire une sommation et lui propose les termes de l’échange. Si cette sommation avait débouché sur un arbitrage, elle aurait pris la forme d’un « arbitrage limité » (ἐπὶ ῥητοῖς) : sur cette forme d’arbitrage, qui définit les termes de la sentence avant même l’arbitrage, voir Karabélias 2005, 316–317, avec renvoi à Isocrate, Trapézitique [17] 19, et Contre Kallimachos [18] 10. 13 Lysias, frgt. 37.2 ; Démosthène, Contre Aphobos I [27] 1, Contre Onètôr I [30] 1–2, Contre Dionysodôros [56] 18. 14 Lysias, Contre Diogiton [32] 2 : le plaideur ne comprend pas que Diogiton ait refusé l’arbitrage et « accepté d’être poursuivi en justice, de faire opposition [sc. à la sentence de l’arbitrage public], de

  Dominique Mulliez Lorsque les parties conviennent de s’en remettre à un arbitrage privé (ἐπιτρέπω τινί), elles peuvent rédiger un acte distinct (συνθήκη ou συνθῆκαι) qui enregistre l’accord, indique le nombre et le nom des arbitres (οἱ διαιτηταί) et éventuellement les modalités de l’arbitrage. Dans le Contre Apatourios [33] 14–15, Démosthène fournit un précieux témoignage de cette démarche préalable à l’arbitrage proprement dit : πεισθέντες ὑπὸ τῶν παρόντων εἰς ἐπιτροπὴν ἔρχονται, καὶ γράψαντες συνθήκας ἐπιτρέπουσιν ἑνὶ μὲν διαιτητῇ κοινῷ Φωκρίτῳ πολίτῃ αὑτῶν, ἕνα δ’ ἑκάτερος παρεκαθίσατο, οὗτος μὲν Ἀριστοκλέα Ὀιῆθεν, ὁ δὲ Παρμένων ἐμέ. [15] Καὶ συνέθεντο ἐν ταῖς συνθήκαις, εἰ μὲν τρεῖς ὄντες ὁμογνώμονες γενοίμεθα, ταῦτα κύρια εἶναι αὑτοῖς, εἰ δὲ μή, οἷς οἱ δύο γνοίησαν, τούτοις ἐπάναγκες εἶναι ἐμμένειν. […] Καὶ τὸ μὲν πρῶτον ἐτίθεντο τὰς συνθήκας παρὰ τῷ Φωκρίτῳ, εἶτα κελεύσαντος τοῦ Φωκρίτου παρ’ ἄλλῳ τινὶ θέσθαι, τίθενται παρὰ τῷ Ἀριστοκλεῖ. Ils recourent, sur la suggestion de leurs amis, à un arbitrage. On dresse l’acte du compromis : il y avait un arbitre commun – Phocritos, un compatriote à eux – et deux assesseurs désignés, l’un pour Apatourios – c’était Aristoclès d’Oè – l’autre pour Parménon – c’était moi. [15] L’acte stipulait qu’en cas d’unanimité, la sentence des trois arbitres aurait effet ; sinon, deux suffrages suffiraient pour qu’elle fût obligatoire. […] L’acte fut d’abord déposé entre les mains de Phocritos ; puis, Phocritos les pria de prendre un autre dépositaire : ce fut Aristoclès.15 Trad. L. Gernet, CUF.

Rien n’indique toutefois que cet accord devait être nécessairement écrit16 et Évangelos Karabélias tient pour acquis qu’il pouvait être oral.17 Choisis d’un commun accord par les parties18 dans le cercle des proches déjà instruits des données du litige, voire témoins des faits,19 les arbitres sont à Athènes en

 s’exposer aux plus grands risques » (trad. L. Gernet et M. Bizos, CUF) ; Démosthène, Contre Dionysodôros [56] 18 : Dionysodôros refuse un arbitrage dont il sait qu’il ne lui sera pas favorable pour tenter sa chance auprès des tribunaux. Même situation dans le Contre Aphobos III [29] 58. 15 Ce premier compromis ayant disparu, on entreprit d’en rédiger un second (ἑτέρας ἐνεχείρουν συνθήκας γράφεσθαι), mais un désaccord surgit entre les parties sur le nombre d’arbitres, « l’un ne voulant qu’un arbitre et l’autre en exigeant trois » (ibid., 30). – Pour une autre référence à un acte écrit, voir Démosthène, Contre Phormion [34] 18. 16 Voir MacDowell 1978, 204 : « before an arbitration began, there had to be an agreement (which could be in writing, though there is no evidence that it had to be so). » 17 Karabélias 2005, 307, qui renvoie à Isée, La succession de Meneklès [2] 30, et à La succession de Dikaiogenès [5] 31, qui paraît plus probant. 18 Disposition reprise par Platon, Lois 12.956b-c : … οὓς ἂν ὁ φεύγων τε καὶ ὁ διώκων ἕλωνται κοινῇ. 19 Isée, La succession de Meneklès [2] 29 ; Démosthène, Contre Spoudias [41] 11, et Contre Néaira [59] 45. – Dans les Lois, Platon prévoit de même que « les plaignants iront d’abord devant les voisins des uns et des autres, les amis et ceux qui sont le mieux au courant des faits en litige » (6.766d. – Trad. É. des Places, CUF) ou encore qu’« une plainte pour non-exécution de contrat sera portée devant les juges de chaque tribu, à moins que les plaignants n’aient pu auparavant se mettre d’accord en présence d’arbitres ou de voisins » (11.920d – Trad. A. Diès, CUF). – Le Contre Dionysodôros [56] 16 de Démosthène offre l’exemple intéressant d’un litige commercial confié à l’arbitrage d’une ou plusieurs personnes de la profession (τῶν ἐκ τοῦ ἐμπορίου).

Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques  

nombre variable : on peut recourir à un seul arbitre20 ou à plusieurs – deux,21 trois22 ou quatre.23 Ils écoutent les parties impliquées dans le litige, parfois à plusieurs reprises, avant de prononcer leur sentence. Dans le discours sur La succession de Dikaiogenès, Isée déroule les différentes étapes d’un arbitrage :24 Καὶ οἱ διαιτηταὶ ἔφασαν, εἰ μὲν ἀνώμοτοι δύναιντ’ [ἂν] ἡμᾶς διαλλάξαι, οὕτω ποιήσειν, εἰ δὲ μή, καὶ αὐτοὶ ὀμόσαντες ἀποφανεῖσθαι ἃ δίκαια ἡγοῦνται εἶναι. Ἀνακρίναντες δὲ ἡμᾶς πολλάκις καὶ πυθόμενοι τὰ πραχθέντα οἱ διαιτηταί, οἱ μὲν δύο οὓς ἐγὼ προὐβαλόμην, Διότιμος καὶ Μελάνωπος, ἤθελον καὶ ἀνώμοτοι καὶ ὀμόσαντες ἀποφήνασθαι ἃ ἐγίγνωσκον ἀληθέστατα ἐκ τῶν λεγομένων, οὓς δὲ Λεωχάρης προὐβάλετο, οὐκ ἔφασαν ἀποφανεῖσθαι. Les arbitres déclarèrent que, s’ils pouvaient nous concilier sans s’engager par serment, ils le feraient ; sinon, ils prêteraient serment et prononceraient selon ce qui leur semblerait équitable. Les arbitres nous interrogèrent à maintes reprises et se mirent au courant des faits ; puis les deux que j’avais proposés, Diotimos et Mélanôpos, consentirent à déclarer, avec ou sans serment, où ils voyaient la vérité dans ce qu’ils avaient entendu ; les arbitres choisis par Léocharès refusèrent de se prononcer. Trad. P. Roussel, CUF

Outre qu’il montre le fonctionnement d’une commission arbitrale, ce texte permet de conclure cette brève présentation sur deux questions qui sont liées : la valeur de la sentence arbitrale et la prestation de serment. En effet, « la question est de savoir si la sentence de l’arbitre, pour avoir une vertu juridique, a besoin d’être accompagnée ou précédée d’un serment ».25 À cette question, les chercheurs ont apporté des réponses divergentes.26 La loi citée dans le Contre Midias de Démosthène et reproduite  20 Isocrate, Trapézitique [17] 19, Contre Kallimachos [18] 10 ; Démosthène, Contre Phormion [34] 18, et Contre Boiôtos II [40] 39. – Contrairement à ce qu’indique Karabélias 2005, 311, il n’est pas proposé à Spoudias de s’en remettre à un seul arbitre dans le litige qui l’oppose au plaideur (Contre Spoudias [41] 14). 21 Démosthène, Contre Néaira [59] 71. 22 Démosthène, Contre Aphobos ΙΙΙ [29] 58, Contre Apatourios [33] 14, Contre Néaira [59] 45. 23 Isée, La succession de Dikaiogenès [5] 31. 24 Isée, La succession de Dikaiogenès [5] 32. – Voir également Démosthène, Contre Néaira [59] 46 : συνελθόντες δ᾿οὗτοι ἐν τῷ ἱερῷ, ἀκούσαντες ἀμφοτέρων καὶ αὐτῆς τῆς ἀνθρώπου τὰ πεπραγμένα, γνώμην ἀπεφήναντο, « ceux-ci (sc. les arbitres) se réunirent dans le sanctuaire et, après avoir entendu l’une et l’autre parties ainsi que la femme en personne sur ce qui s’était passé, ils firent connaître leur sentence ». – Il y a certainement un effet de captatio benevolentiae dans le constat que Chrysippe dresse devant les juges dans le Contre Phormion [34] 19 : « ce n’est pas du tout la même chose, pour un faux témoin, de comparaître devant vous, à votre face, ou simplement devant un arbitre. Devant vous, on s’expose à votre indignation et à une pénalité ; devant l’arbitre, on ne risque rien et on témoigne effrontément tout ce qu’on veut » (trad. L. Gernet, CUF). Du reste, l’arbitre désigné, après avoir entendu les parties à plusieurs reprises, se convainquit que l’un des témoins mentait et renvoya l’affaire devant les tribunaux (ibid. 21). 25 Gernet 1955, 107–112 (citation p. 108). 26 Karabélias 2005, 324–325, propose une rapide synthèse du débat (mais voir ci-dessous n. 29).

  Dominique Mulliez au début de cet article prévoit sans ambiguïté que la sentence arbitrale a force exécutoire – ἔστω τὰ κριθέντα ὑπὸ τοῦ διαιτητοῦ κύρια – et ne peut faire l’objet d’un appel devant une juridiction de la cité, mais elle ne mentionne nullement l’existence d’un serment que devraient prononcer les arbitres avant de faire connaître leur sentence. Le texte d’Isée cité plus haut paraît indiquer, quant à lui, que l’on pouvait ou non accompagner sa sentence d’un serment. Enfin, on a tiré argument du Contre Callippos de Démosthène, où le serment est dit κατὰ τοὺς νόμους, pour conclure qu’il était obligatoire.27 Il est certes difficile de conclure à partir des attestations conservées dans le corpus des orateurs attiques, car s’il y a plaidoirie, c’est qu’il y a procès, et s’il y a procès, c’est que l’arbitrage n’a pas abouti. Sans prétendre régler la question dans cette brève présentation, on peut, me semble-t-il, distinguer deux formes d’interprétation. Une interprétation philologique, s’appuyant notamment sur le texte d’Isée, consiste à distinguer la conciliation (διαλλαγή) et l’arbitrage (δίαιτα) ; elle est parfaitement représentée par Pierre Roussel, qui considère que « les arbitres peuvent agir, soit comme conciliateurs, soit comme arbitres. Dans le premier cas, ils ne prêtent pas serment et les termes du compromis qu’ils proposent ne lient pas les parties ; dans le second, ils prêtent serment, et la sentence qu’ils rendent est dès lors sans appel ».28 Une autre forme d’interprétation est d’ordre juridique et porte sur la nature de la sentence ; elle a été formalisée par Louis Gernet, qui conclut en ces termes son analyse du Contre Kallippos [52] 31 : « si une preuve décisoire est fournie, l’arbitre prononce purement et simplement […] ; sinon, il exprime un sentiment personnel qui n’a de valeur que s’il est appuyé par un serment. »29 S’il paraît difficile d’aboutir à un accord sur la prestation de serment accompagnant la sentence arbitrale, le caractère exécutoire de cette sentence est très généralement admis,30 même si le Contre Callippos de Démosthène fournit « la seule attestation […] de l’effet exécutoire d’une sentence d’arbitre privé ».31 Cette sentence ne

 27 Démosthène, Contre Kallippos [52] 30–31. 28 Commentaire à Isée, La succession de Dikaiogenès [5] 32 (CUF [1926]), 98 n. 2. 29 Gernet 1955, 110. Dans son commentaire au Contre Aphobos III [29] 58 de Démosthène (CUF [1954]), 87 n. 1, Gernet reprend cette distinction : « il semble que les arbitres privés prêtent serment quand ils rendent une véritable sentence. » Pour la référence à un serment décisoire chez Démosthène, voir également Contre Phormion [34], 21, Contre Spoudias [41] 15 et Contre Kallippos [52] 30. – Dans la synthèse qu’il propose sur cette question, Karabélias 2005, 323–324, ne rend pas suffisamment justice à la position nuancée de Gernet lorsqu’il écrit que « nous sommes obligés […] d’avoir recours, sur la foi de l’argumentation de Gernet, à une série de textes dont l’interprétation milite en faveur de la prestation de serment décisoire avant la formulation de la sentence arbitrale ». 30 Il n’en va pas de même pour les sentences des arbitres publics, susceptibles d’appel : voir Gernet 1955, 103. 31 Gernet dans son commentaire à Démosthène, Contre Kallippos [52] 16 (CUF [1959]), 76 n. 1. – Dans son commentaire à Démosthène Contre Boeotos II [40] 40 (CUF [1957]), 44 n. 2, Gernet rappelle que « l’arbitrage privé a un effet définitif ».

Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques  

requiert pas nécessairement l’unanimité, mais peut être rendue à la seule majorité des membres de la commission arbitrale.32 Si je me suis attardé à rappeler, dans ses grandes lignes, le fonctionnement des commissions arbitrales à Athènes au IVe siècle av. J.-C., c’est que cette voie de résolution des conflits connut une longue destinée à travers les siècles. Karabélias concluait son étude en observant que « l’arbitrage privé athénien, dans sa fonction fondamentale d’apaiser les situations conflictuelles par des concessions réciproques de deux parties, se retrouvera ensuite dans la koinè hellénistique, dont la substance est conservée dans les papyrus grecs d’Égypte ».33 Au début du IIIe siècle av. J.-C., cette procédure donne son nom à la comédie de Ménandre L’arbitrage (Ἐπιτρέποντες), où elle nourrit l’essentiel de l’acte II :34 bien qu’elle soit de pure fiction, puisqu’elle met en scène des esclaves, elle n’en est pas moins traitée de manière vraisemblable pour le spectateur.35 Importée par les Grecs dans l’Égypte lagide, elle est ensuite attestée par la documentation papyrologique à l’époque romaine comme à l’époque byzantine36 avec une relative stabilité, ce qui me permettra d’en abréger la présentation dans les lignes qui suivent.

. L’arbitrage privé dans l’Égypte gréco-romaine Dans l’article qu’il a consacré à l’arbitrage privé dans l’Égypte gréco-romaine,37 Joseph Modrzejewski a dressé un tableau d’ensemble dont bien des traits rappellent

 32 Démosthène, Contre Apatourios [33] 15, cité ci-dessus : le compromis prévoyait qu’« en cas d’unanimité, la sentence des trois arbitres aurait effet (κύρια) ; sinon, deux suffrages suffiraient pour qu’elle fût obligatoire » (trad. L. Gernet, CUF). – Sur ce point, je ne crois pas que l’on puisse invoquer Isée, La succession de Dikaiogenès [5] 32, cité plus haut (contra : Karabélias 2005, 327) : sur les quatre arbitres, deux acceptent de rendre une sentence, les deux autres se désistent ; l’arbitrage tourne court et l’affaire est renvoyée devant les tribunaux. 33 Karabélias 2005, 330. 34 Pour d’autres scènes d’arbitrage dans les comédies de Ménandre, voir l’introduction d’Alain Blanchard à L’arbitrage dans le second volume du théâtre de Ménandre (CUF [2013]), 38. 35 À la bibliographie de Karabélias 2005, 316–317 n. 61, ajouter les données réunies par Blanchard dans son introduction à l’édition de la CUF, en part. 38–42. 36 Modrzewjeski 1952, 239–240. – Voir également Mélèze-Modrzejewski 2014, 208 : « son domaine d’action paraît avoir été considérable tout au début de la domination macédonienne en Égypte, comme il le sera à la fin de l’époque byzantine, au VIe siècle ap. J.-C. et dans la première moitié du VIIe siècle. Il est pratiqué par les Grecs dans la chôra comme par les Juifs à Alexandrie ». 37 Modrzewjeski 1952, auquel je renvoie pour la bibliographie complémentaire et les références à la documentation papyrologique. En 2014, Mélèze-Modrzejewski considérait que cette étude « demeur[ait], sauf erreur, la seule étude d’ensemble pour l’Égypte grecque et romaine » (Mélèze-Modrzejewski 2014, 208 n. 53). – Pour une brève synthèse, voir Taubenschlag 1955, 402–403.

  Dominique Mulliez ceux que l’on a exposés pour Athènes à l’époque classique. Concernant toutes les affaires relevant du droit privé,38 l’arbitrage supposait un accord entre les parties. Cet accord faisait l’objet soit d’un document séparé, comme on en a l’exemple à Athènes, soit d’une clause introduite dans un contrat et prévoyant le règlement d’un éventuel litige lors de son exécution ;39 dans cet accord, les parties convenaient de s’en tenir à la décision du ou des arbitres, qu’ils pouvaient le cas échéant désigner nommément. La documentation papyrologique a également conservé des documents de l’époque ptolémaïque, romaine ou byzantine, par lesquels l’une des parties sollicite une tierce personne pour arbitrer un litige ou sommer la partie adverse d’accepter un arbitrage. De l’époque ptolémaïque à l’époque byzantine, le nombre des arbitres, quand il est précisé, est variable : l’arbitre peut être unique, mais sont également attestées des commissions arbitrales de deux, trois ou six membres. Ils sont choisis parmi des personnes de confiance de l’une et l’autre parties, parfois aussi à raison de leur compétence juridique. Après avoir entendu chacune des parties, dont la présence est obligatoire, les arbitres font connaître leur décision, qui s’impose : la partie qui la refuse s’expose aux pénalités prévues dans l’accord préalable. Le prononcé de la sentence est-il accompagné d’une prestation de serment des arbitres ? Il semblerait qu’il faille sur ce point distinguer le cadre proprement juridique et les pratiques locales, qui recourent largement au serment pour garantir la sentence.40

 L’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques C’est donc dans le cadre d’une procédure pluriséculaire que je me propose de présenter les attestations fournies par les actes d’affranchissement delphiques. Artur Steinwenter leur a consacré quelques pages,41 mais sans prendre en compte la totalité de

 38 Modrzewjeski 1952, 250–251. 39 Modrzewjeski 1952, 241–243 ; Taubenschlag 1955, 402–403. 40 Pour le détail de l’analyse historique, voir Modrzewjeski 1952, 253–254. 41 Steinwenter 1925, 174–176, qui qualifie la série de « zahlreicher, aber kaum reichhaltiger ». Des documents cités ci-après, Steinwenter retient les n° 2, 4, 5 et 7. – Curieusement, il renvoie à l’édition de C. Wescher et P. Foucart, Inscriptions recueillies à Delphes et publiées pour la première fois (1863) et non à celle de J. Baunack dans la Sammlung der griechischen Dialekt-Inschriften II.2, Die delphischen Inschriften (1899), plus complète et accompagnée d’un riche apparat critique ; néanmoins, ce choix n’affecte pas les données, puisque les textes recensés ci-dessous figuraient déjà tous dans l’édition de C. Wescher et P. Foucart. – À la page 174 n. 4, la référence au n° 107 des Inscriptions recueillies à Delphes est une erreur pour n° 407 ; en outre, l’auteur ne s’est pas aperçu que ce n° 407 était le même texte que Syll.2 850 cité dans sa note 3.

Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques  

la documentation disponible et en extrapolant à partir de ce choix restreint de documents. Il n’est donc pas inutile de réunir l’ensemble des attestations qu’offre le vaste corpus des actes d’affranchissement. Neuf, voire dix documents, qui appartiennent tous à la première moitié du IIe siècle av. J.-C., mentionnent le recours possible à une commission arbitrale privée. Pour chacun des documents, je cite le passage concerné et le fais suivre d’une traduction.42 [1] CID V, 1 [l. 5–8 et 14–17] Leaina et Aristomachos affranchissent Satyros (202/1 av. J.-C.) Παραμενέτω δὲ Σάτυρος παρὰ Λέαιναν | καὶ Ἀριστόμαχον ἄχρι κα ζῶντι Λέαινα καὶ Ἀριστόμαχος· ἐπεὶ δέ κά τι πάθωντι Λέαινα | αὶ Ἀριστόμαχος, τοῦ θεοῦ ἔστω Σάτυρος, κυριεύων αὐτοσαυτοῦ, ἐλεύθερος ὢν καὶ | ἀνέφαπτος τὸν πάντα χρόνον, καθὼς ἐπίστευσε τῶι θεῶι τὰν ὠνάν. […] Εἰ δέ τί κα ἐπικαλέωντι Λέαινα ἢ Ἀριστόμα|χος Σατύρωι ἢ Σάτυρος ⟨ἀντιλέγῃ⟩ ποτὶ Λέαιναν ἢ Ἀριστόμαχον, κριθέντων ἐν τοῖς ἱερέοις τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος | καὶ ἐν Κρίτωνι Νικαΐδα· καὶ ὅ τί κα οὗτοι κρίνωντι κύριον ἔστω· εἰ δέ τί κα πάθῃ Κρίτων, ἄλλον | ἀνθελέσθων Λέαινα καὶ Ἀριστόμαχος καὶ Σάτυρος ὅν κα αὐτοὶ θέλωντι. Satyros demeurera auprès de Leaina et d’Aristomachos aussi longtemps que Leaina et Aristomachos vivront ; dès lors qu’il sera arrivé quelque chose à Leaina et Aristomachos, Satyros sera propriété du dieu, tout en étant maître de sa personne, libre, sans jamais pouvoir faire l’objet d’une saisie, conformément à la mission d’achat qu’il a confiée au dieu. […] Si Leaina ou Aristomachos ont un grief à faire valoir contre Satyros ou si Satyros a un désaccord avec Leaina ou Aristomachos, le litige sera tranché devant les prêtres d’Apollon et devant Kritôn fils de Nikaïdas et leur décision, quelle qu’elle soit, aura force exécutoire ; et s’il arrive quelque chose à Kritôn, Leaina, Aristomachos et Satyros désigneront pour le remplacer une personne de leur choix.

[2] CID V, 4 [l. 17–27] Menarchos affranchit Peitholaos et Xenôn (199/8 av. J.-C.) Ὀμοσάτω δὲ Μέναρχος ἐναντίον τῶν ἱερέων τὸν νόμιμον ὅρκον παρὰ τὸν Ἀπόλλω μήτε αὐτὸς | ἀδικήσειν Ξένωνα μηδὲ Πειθόλαον ἇς κα ζῇ μηδὲ ἄλλωι ἐπιτρέψειν· εἰ δὲ ἢ αὐτὸς ἀδικέοι ἢ ἄλλωι | ἐπιτρέψαι, ἔνοχος ἔστω Μέναρχος τῶι τε ἐφιορκεῖν καὶ παραβαίνειν τὰ συνκείμενα καὶ ὁμοίως | κύριοι ἐόντω οἵ τε βεβαιωτῆρες καὶ ἄλλος ὁ θέλων ἀποκαθιστάντες Ξένωνα καὶ Πειθόλαον ἐν τὸ | ἱερόν, ἀζάμιοι καὶ ἀνυπόδικοι ὄ ντες πάσας δίκας καὶ ζαμίας· τὸν αὐτὸν δὲ ὅρκον ὀμοσάντω Ξένων | καὶ Πειθόλαος Μενάρχωι παραμένειν παρὰ Μέναρχον ἔντε κα ζώῃ, μετὰ πάσας εὐνοίας δουλεύοντες | καὶ ποιέοντες τὸ ποτιτασσόμενον. Εἰ δέ τί κα ἐπικαλῇ Μέναρχος Ξένωνι ἢ Πειθολάωι ἢ Ξένων ἢ Πει|θόλαος ἀντιλέγωντι ποτὶ Μέναρχον, κριθέντω ἐν τοῖς ἱερέοις τοῦ Ἀπόλλωνος καὶ Κλέωνι Δίων̣ος, καὶ ὅ τί κα οὗτοι κρίνωντι κύριον ἔστω· εἰ δέ τί κα πάθῃ Κλέων, ἄλλον

 42 Les documents, cités dans l’ordre chronologique, sont précédés d’un numéro d’ordre auquel il sera renvoyé dans la suite de l’article. Ils sont extraits du premier volume du Corpus des inscriptions de Delphes V, Les actes d’affranchissements [CID V], publié sous ma signature par l’École française d’Athènes.

  Dominique Mulliez ἀνθελέσθω Μέναρχος Δελφὸν ὅν κα αὐτὸς θέλῃ. Ὤμοσαν ποτὶ τῶι βωιμῶι τᾶι αὐτᾶι ἁμέραι ἔναντι τῶν ἱερέων καὶ τῶμ | μαρτύρων. Menarchos prêtera le serment en usage en présence des prêtres et jurera par Apollon qu’il ne portera personnellement aucun tort à Xenôn et Peitholaos aussi longtemps qu’il vivra ni ne s’en remettra à autrui pour le faire ; s’il leur porte personnellement tort ou s’en remet à autrui [pour le faire], Menarchos tombera sous l’accusation de parjure et de rupture de l’accord conclu et les garants de même que tout tiers qui le veut auront autorité pour restituer Xenôn et Peitholaos au sanctuaire, sans encourir de poursuite pécuniaire ni pénale d’aucune sorte. Xenôn et Peitholaos prêteront le même serment [sc. que Menarchos] et jureront de demeurer auprès de Menarchos aussi longtemps qu’il vivra, le servant avec tout le dévouement possible et exécutant ce qui leur est ordonné. Si Menarchos a un grief à faire valoir contre Xenôn ou Peitholaos ou si Xenôn et Peitholaos ont un désaccord avec Menarchos, le litige sera tranché devant les prêtres d’Apollon et Kleôn fils de Diôn et leur décision, quelle qu’elle soit, aura force exécutoire ; et s’il arrive quelque chose à Kleôn, Menarchos désignera pour le remplacer un autre Delphien de son choix. Les prestations de serment ont eu lieu sur l’autel le même jour et en présence des prêtres et des témoins.

[3] CID V, 209 [l. 5–14] Amyntas affranchit Sôtèrichos (173/2 av. J.-C.) Παραμεινάτω | δὲ παρὰ Ἀμύνταν Σωτήριχος ἔτη ὀκτὼ ἀνενκλήτως· εἰ δὲ ὁ μὲν φαίη ἀνενκλήτως παραμένειν | καὶ μηθὲν κατὰ Ἀμύντα κακὸν πράσσειν μηδὲ κατὰ τοῦ υἱοῦ Ἀμύντα, Ἀμύντας δὲ εἰ ἐνκαλέοι ἢ ὁ υἱ|ὸς αὐτοῦ Ἀμύντας Σωτηρίχῳ, κριθέντω ἐν ἄνδροις τρίοις οὓς συνείλοντο, Διοδώρῳ Μνα|σιθέου, Κλευδάμῳ Κλέωνος, Ἀρχελάῳ Θηβαγόρα· ὅ τι δέ κα οὗτοι κρίνωντι ὀμόσαντες, | τοῦτο κ̣ύριον ἔστω· εἰ δέ τι ἀνθρώπινον γένοιτο περί τινα τῶν κοινῶν ἐν τοῖς ἐτέοις τοῖς γε|γραμμένοις, ἐφελέσθων ἄλλον ἀντ᾿ αὐτοῦ καὶ ὁ ἐφαιρεθεὶς κρινέτω μετὰ τῶν καὶ ὣς συ|ν⟨η⟩ιρημένων· εἰ δὲ μὴ θέλοι Ἀμύντας ἢ Σωτήριχος ἀντὶ τῶν ἀπογενομένων κοινῶν εἴτε | ἑνὸς εἴτε πλειόνων συνεφαιρεῖσθαι τοὺς κοινοὺς τῶι θέλοντι αὐτῶν ἐφαιρεῖσθαι, κύρι|οι ἐόντω οἱ καταλι̣π̣όμενοι εἴτε εἷς εἴτε πλείονες εἶεν οἱ κρίνοντες, καθὼς ἐπάνω γέγραπται. Sôtèrichos demeurera auprès d’Amyntas huit années durant sans encourir de reproche. Si le premier affirme avoir répondu à ses obligations sans encourir de reproche et sans avoir porté tort à Amyntas ni à son fils Amyntas, mais qu’Amyntas ou son fils Amyntas ont des reproches à adresser à Sôtèrichos, le litige sera tranché devant une commission de trois membres désignés d’un commun accord, à savoir Diodôros fils de Mnasitheos, Kleudamos fils de Kleôn, Archelaos fils de Thèbagoras ; la décision qu’ils rendront sous serment, quelle qu’elle soit, aura force exécutoire. S’il arrive quelque chose à l’un des membres de la commission au cours de la période considérée, ils en désigneront un autre en remplacement et le remplaçant participera à la décision avec ceux qui avaient été jusque-là désignés. Si Amyntas ou Sôtèrichos refuse de participer avec celui d’entre eux qui y consent à la désignation du remplaçant d’un ou plusieurs membres de la commission disparus, ceux qui seront restés en fonction auront autorité pour trancher le litige, que ce soit par un seul ou par plusieurs, dans les conditions prévues ci-dessus.

Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques  

[4] CID V, 246 [l. 5–7] Echemèlos affranchit Aphrodisia (169/8 av. J.-C.) Παραμεινάτω δὲ Ἀφροδισία παρὰ Ἐχέμηλον ἄχρι κα ζώῃ Ἐχέμηλος, ποιέουσα τὸ ποτιτασσόμενον πᾶν τὸ δυνατὸν· | εἰ δέ τί κα μὴ ποιῇ Ἀφροδισία τῶν ποτιτασσομένων ὑπ᾿ Ἐχεμήλου καθὼς γέγραπται δυνατὰ ἐοῦσα, κριθέντων ἐν ἄνδροις τρίοις | οὕς κα συνέλωνται· ὅ τι δέ κα οὗτοι κρίνωντι ὀμόσαντες, κύριον ἔστω. Aphrodisia demeurera auprès d’Echemèlos aussi longtemps que vivra Echemèlos, faisant tout ce qui lui est ordonné autant qu’il est possible. Si elle n’exécute pas l’un des ordres d’Echemèlos dans les conditions prévues, alors qu’elle en a la capacité, le litige sera tranché devant une commission de trois membres désignés d’un commun accord et la décision qu’ils rendront sous serment, quelle qu’elle soit, aura force exécutoire.

[5] CID V, 311 [l. 13–18] Stratonikos affranchit Klyta et Stratonika (164/3 av. J.-C.) Παραμεινάντω δὲ Κλύτα καὶ Στρατονίκα | παρὰ Στρατόνικον ἄχρι κα ζώῃ Στρατόνικος, ποιέουσαι τὸ πο|τιτασσόμενον πᾶν τὸ δυνατόν· εἰ δέ τί κα μὴ ποιήσωντι Κλύτα ἢ Στρα|τονίκα τῶν ποτιτασσομένων ὑπὸ Στρατονίκου καθὼς γέγραπται δυνα|ταὶ ἐοῦσαι, κριθέντων ἐν ἄνδροις τρίοις οὕς κα συνέλωνται· ὅ τι δέ κα οὗ|τοι κρίνωντι ὀμόσαντες, κύριον ἔστω. Klyta et Stratonika demeureront auprès de Stratonikos aussi longtemps que vivra Stratonikos, faisant tout ce qui leur est ordonné autant qu’il est possible. Si elles n’exécutent pas l’un des ordres de Stratonikos dans les conditions prévues, alors qu’elles en ont la capacité, le litige sera tranché devant une commission de trois membres désignés d’un commun accord et la décision qu’ils rendront sous serment, quelle qu’elle soit, aura force exécutoire.

[6] CID V, 388 [l. 6–9] Sôsias affranchit Nikaia et Isthmos (157/6 av. J.-C.) Παραμεινάτω δὲ Νικαία καὶ Ἰσθμὸς παρὰ Σωσίαν ἄχρι οὗ κα ζώῃ Σωσίας, ποιέοντες πᾶν | τὸ ποτιτασσόμενον Σωσίᾳ τὸ δυνατὸν ἀνενκλήτως· εἰ δὲ μὴ ποιέοιν Νικαία καὶ Ἰσθμός, μὴ | ἔστω βέβαιος αὐτοῖς ἁ ὠνά, ἀλλὰ ἄκυρος ἔστω. Εἰ δέ τι ἐνκαλέοι Σωσίας Νικαίᾳ ἢ Ἰσθμῷ, ἐπικρι|θέντω ἐν ἄνδροις τρίοις· ὅ τι δέ κα οὗτοι κρίνωντι κύριον ἔστω. Nikaia et Isthmos demeureront auprès de Sôsias aussi longtemps que vivra Sôsias, faisant pour Sôsias tout ce qui leur est ordonné autant qu’il est possible sans encourir de reproche ; si Nikaia et Isthmos ne s’exécutent pas, la vente ne leur sera pas garantie, mais sera invalidée. Si Sôsias a des reproches à adresser à Nikaia ou à Isthmos, le litige sera tranché devant une commission de trois membres ; la décision qu’ils rendront, quelle qu’elle soit, aura force exécutoire.

[7] CID V, 433 [l. 10–18] Skopas affranchit Eutychos (153/2 av. J.-C.) Παραμεινάτω δὲ Εὔτυχος παρὰ Σκόπαν, ποιέων τὸ ποτιτασ|σόμενον πᾶν τὸ δυ|νατὸν ἄχρι οὗ κα ὁ ὑὸς αὐτοῦ Θεόφιλος ἐν ἁλικίαν ἐλθὼν γυναῖ|κα λάβῃ· εἰ δέ τι ἀντι̣λέγοισαν αὐτοὶ ποτὶ αὑτοὺς

  Dominique Mulliez περὶ τοῦ ποιεῖν τὸ ποτιτασσό|μενον, ἐπικριθέντων | συνελόμενοι ἄν|δρας τρεῖς καὶ ὅ κα | οὗτοι ὀμόσαντες | κρίνωντι κύριον | ἔστω. Eutychos demeurera auprès de Skopas, faisant tout ce qui lui est ordonné autant qu’il est possible jusqu’à ce que son fils Théophilos, parvenu à l’âge adulte, prenne femme ; tout litige qui les opposerait sur l’exécution des ordres donnés sera jugé par une commission de trois membres désignés d’un commun accord et toute décision qu’ils rendront sous serment aura force exécutoire.

[8] CID V, 496 [l. 5–10] Boèthos achète Thrassa à fin de liberté (151/0 à 147/6 av. J.-C.) Παραμεινάτω δὲ Θρᾶισσα παρὰ Βόηθον, | [ποιέου]σα π[ᾶν τὸ δυνατὸν, ἄχρι οὗ κα ζώῃ Βόηθος. Ἐπεὶ δέ κα [μ]ε|[ταλλ]άξῃ τὸ[ν βίο]ν Βόηθος, ἐλευθέρα ἔστω Θρᾶισσα καὶ ὁ βεβ[α]ιω|τὴρ [μη]κέτι (?) βε[βαι]ούτω. Εἰ δέ τί κα ἐν τούτῳ τῶι χρόνωι Θρ[ᾶισ|σα ἢ Β̣όηθος ποτὶ αὐτοσαυτοὺς ἀντιλέγοιν, κριθέντωι ἐν ἄνδροις τρί[ο]ις· | ὅ τι δέ̣ κα̣ οὗτοι κρίνωντι κύριον ἔστω. Thrassa demeurera auprès de Boèthos, faisant tout autant qu’il est possible, aussi longtemps que vivra Boèthos. Lorsque Boèthos sera passé de vie à trépas, Thrassa sera libre et le garant n’apportera plus (?) sa garantie. Si, au cours de cette période [sc. la paramona], Thrassa ou Boèthos sont en désaccord entre eux, le litige sera tranché devant une commission de trois membres et leur décision, quelle qu’elle soit, aura force exécutoire.

[9] CID V, 500 [l. 8–11] Lirion affranchit Manès (151/0 à 147/6 av. J.-C.) Παραμεινάτω δὲ Μάνης παρὰ Λίριον ἔτη τρία ἀ|νέγκλητος, ποιῶν τὸ ποτιτασσόμενον τὸ δυνατόν· ε̣ἰ δέ κα μὴ παραμένῃ ἀνένκλη|τος Μάνης παρὰ Λίριον καθὼς γέ[γ]ρ̣απ̣τ̣αι, περὶ οὗ κα ἐπικαλῇ αὐτῶι κριθέντων συνελό|μενοι ἐν ἄνδροις [τ]ρίοις· ὅ τι̣ δέ κ̣[α] κρ[ι]θῇ κύριον ἔστω. Manès demeurera auprès de Lirion pendant trois années en étant irréprochable, faisant ce qui lui est ordonné autant qu’il est possible. Si Manès ne demeure pas auprès de Lirion en étant irréprochable dans les conditions prévues, l’objet du grief formulé à son encontre sera tranché devant une commission de trois membres désignés d’un commun accord et dont la décision, quelle qu’elle soit, aura force exécutoire.

[10] ? CID V, 563 [l. 15] Milieu du IIe siècle av. J.-C. Peut-être faut-il ajouter à cet ensemble un dixième document, gravé sur un bloc de la première assise isodome qui couronne le grand mur polygonal. Très mutilé et de lecture difficile, il est datable du milieu du IIe s. av. J.-C. Les lettres ΚΑΚΡΙ qu’on y lit à la ligne 15 doivent peut-être se restituer ὅ τι δέ] κα κρι[θῇ κύριον ἔστω, sur le modèle de l’affranchissement précédent.

Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques  

. Un accord inscrit dans un contrat Le premier constat que l’on peut établir à partir de cette documentation est que l’accord des parties pour recourir à l’arbitrage privé ne fait pas l’objet d’un acte séparé, mais est inscrit dans le contrat d’affranchissement lui-même, qui prend la forme d’une vente conclue entre le propriétaire de l’esclave et le dieu Apollon. Ce n’est pourtant pas l’acheteur – en l’occurrence : le dieu – qui désigne les arbitres d’un commun accord avec le vendeur, mais le ou les affranchi(e)s. La raison en est que l’accord des parties s’inscrit lui-même dans une clause spécifique du contrat – la clause de paramona,43 qui fait obligation au nouvel affranchi de demeurer auprès de son maître et à son service le plus souvent jusqu’à sa mort (e. g. ci-dessus n° 1, 2, 4, 5, 6 et 8), parfois aussi pour une période déterminée (e. g. ci-dessus n° 3 et 9) ou en fonction d’un événement familial, tel le mariage d’un enfant du maître (e. g. ci-dessus n° 7). Plus précisément même, il faut souligner qu’il est fait mention d’une commission d’arbitrage uniquement dans le cadre d’une clause de paramona.44 Alors que les commissions d’arbitrage qui nous sont connues par la documentation athénienne sont mises en place pour régler un litige déjà existant, dans les documents delphiques cités comme dans certains documents papyrologiques,45 elles sont mises en place ou prévues pour régler un éventuel litige et n’auront peut-être jamais à fonctionner. Il faut tirer les conséquences du constat ainsi établi. En premier lieu, le recours à une commission d’arbitrage compris dans une clause de paramona ne porte que sur le respect des obligations, par ailleurs relativement vagues, inscrites dans cette clause et ne vaut donc que pour la durée de la paramona, ce que précisent explicitement les documents n° 3 et 9 ; on ignore la manière dont étaient traités les litiges opposant un affranchi à son ancien maître à l’issue de la paramona ou en l’absence  43 La paramona – ou paramonè en koinè – a fait et fait encore l’objet d’âpres débats parmi les chercheurs (je n’ai pu avoir accès aux deux dernières études qui sont parvenues à ma connaissance et qui ont été publiées dans le volume Symposion 2017 : R. Zelnick-Abramovitz, « The Status of Slaves Manumitted under Paramonē: a Reappraisal », 377–401 ; S. C. Todd, « Slave Manumission und Paramonē – Some Remaining Problems? Response to Rachel Zelnick-Abramovitz », 403–409). – La question qui se pose est de déterminer le statut de la personne soumise à cette clause et placée à mi-chemin entre la servitude et la liberté. Elle déborde très largement le cadre de cet article et je me contenterai d’indiquer que l’existence de commissions arbitrales est de nature à apporter au moins une réponse partielle à cette question (voir ci-après). 44 C’est donc à tort que Zelnick-Abramovitz 2005, 291–292, considère que « only a few documents state that any dispute [je souligne] arising between the manumittor and the manumitted slave is to be referred to arbitrators (e. g., GDI 1696, from Delphi [= notre document n° 9] ». 45 Voir par ex. P. Eleph. Gr. 1 (311/0), l. 6–8 : Eἰὰν δέ τι κακοτεχνοῦσα ἁλίσκηται ⟦ἁλίσκηται⟧ ἐπὶ αἰσχύνηι τοῦ ἀνδρὸς Ἡρακλείδου Δημητρία, στερέσθω ὧμ προσηνέγκατο πάντων, ἐπιδειξάτω δὲ Ἡρακλείδης ὅτι ἂν ἐγκαλῆι Δημητρίαι ἐναντίον ἀνδρῶν τριῶν οὓς ἂν δοκιμάζωσιν ἀμφότεροι, « si Demetria est surprise à avoir un comportement honteux à l’égard de son mari Heracleidès, elle sera privée de sa dot dans son intégralité ; mais Heracleidès doit prouver tout ce qu'il reproche à Demetria en présence de trois témoins reconnus par les deux époux ».

  Dominique Mulliez de paramona. Par ailleurs, si l’accord pour recourir à la commission arbitrale stipule que les arbitres sont désignés conjointement par le maître et son affranchi soumis à paramona, c’est que celui-ci a dépouillé son statut d’esclave : en tant qu’esclave, il n’avait pas pu passer contrat avec son maître pour obtenir sa libération et avait dû confier au dieu le soin de l’acheter à fin de liberté ; ce contrat conclu, il peut en revanche passer un accord avec son maître pour le règlement d’éventuels litiges surgissant au cours de la paramona. C’est reconnaître implicitement le nouveau statut de l’affranchi dans le cadre de la paramona : le recours à une commission arbitrale le place désormais à l’abri des décisions unilatérales et arbitraires de son ancien maître.46 Enfin, sans aller jusqu’à considérer que cet accord a été conclu inter pares,47 il révèle, en tout état de cause, un traitement beaucoup plus favorable à l’affranchi48 que celui qui s’observe dans les autres documents, où le non-respect des obligations inscrites dans la clause de paramona expose le contrevenant au châtiment corporel ou, pis encore, à l’annulation de la vente sans possibilité de recours.49

. La composition de la commission et son renouvellement Dans chacun des neuf documents, les commissions comprennent invariablement trois membres, qui ne sont pas appelés διαιτηταί, mais simplement ἄνδρες, sauf dans le document n° 3, qui recourt également au terme οἱ κοινοί. Ce sont précisément là les deux termes que l’on retrouve dans la documentation papyrologique de l’époque ptolémaïque, où « the arbiters are named κοινοὶ ἄνδρες, οἱ κοινοί or simply ἄνδρες ».50

 46 Voir déjà en ce sens Samuel 1965, 278. 47 Je ne pense pas, en effet, que l’on puisse considérer que « this provision [sc. le recours à l’arbitrage] implicitly recognised a measure of equality between master and free slave » (Hopkins 1978, 154). Voir ce qui est dit plus loin de la désignation des arbitres, choisis uniquement parmi les citoyens, de leur remplacement éventuel (document n° 2) et, surtout, de la façon dont sont exposés les litiges devant les arbitres. 48 Steinwenter 1925, 175, y voit une clause accessoire de la clause de paramona qui serait accordée par le maître avec l’accord des autorités religieuses (« unter Zustimmung des Tempels »), ce que rien ne permet d’établir. 49 Les textes emploient le plus souvent des expression vagues : ἐπιτιμέω, κολάζω, parfois précisées par les verbes μαστιγόω, δίδημι, φοβίζω ou ψοφέω. Certains contrats posent parfois une limite à l’exercice du châtiment, notamment en interdisant au maître de revendre l’affranchi et de le faire retomber dans la servitude ; d’autres, au contraire, déclarent la vente « nulle et de nul effet » (ἀτελὴς καὶ ἄκυρος), voire donnent au maître le droit de vendre le fautif (CID V, 847, 946, 940 et 1117). 50 Modrzejewski 1952, 247, et 247–248 sur les termes utilisés à l’époque romaine ou byzantine. – L’expression οἱ κοινοί désigne également une commission arbitrale dans un arbitrage entre la cité de Corcyre et un certain Sôtèriôn (IG IX 1, 692, l. 1), ainsi que dans un contrat de location de la cité étolienne de Thestia (Pleket 1964, n° 47, l. 11), deux inscriptions datées du IIe siècle av. J.-C. comme chacun des dix documents delphiques ici invoqués.

Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques  

Comment sont désignés les membres de ces commissions ? Si les documents n° 1, 2, 5, 6 et 8 ne le précisent pas, il n’en va pas de même des autres documents (n° 3, 4, 7 et 9) qui indiquent que les membres sont désignés d’un commun accord – le verbe utilisé est συναιρέω – par le ou les maîtres d’une part, le ou les affranchis d’autre part. Les deux premiers documents méritent une mention particulière : deux des trois membres, en effet, ne sont autres que les deux prêtres d’Apollon en fonction, désignés uniquement par leur qualité et sans leur nom.51 À partir du seul document n° 2, Steinwenter a cru pouvoir conclure que la majorité des voix des prêtres est régulièrement accordée au tribunal d’arbitrage et qu’il faut voir dans cette disposition l’influence des autorités religieuses.52 Il n’en est rien, puisque dans tous les autres textes, ce sont de simples particuliers qui jouent le rôle d’arbitres. La mise en place des commissions emprunte deux voies différentes. Dans les documents n° 4 à 9, les arbitres ne sont pas nommément désignés53 : ils ne seront désignés d’un commun accord par les deux parties que si un litige survient au cours de la paramona. Dans les documents n° 1 à 3, au contraire, les arbitres sont nommément désignés : alors même qu’elle n’aura peut-être pas à intervenir, la commission arbitrale est donc constituée au moment de la conclusion du contrat, qui enregistre implicitement l’accord passé entre les parties et les arbitres. On peut d’ailleurs préciser que cet accord n’est pas contemporain de la conclusion même du contrat, mais qu’il a été négocié plus tôt, car les arbitres nommément désignés ne figurent pas dans la liste des témoins par laquelle se termine l’affranchissement (à l’exception de l’un d’entre dans le document n° 3). La désignation anticipée des arbitres a une conséquence importante : comme la commission doit pouvoir fonctionner aussi longtemps que durera la paramona, sans que l’on puisse précisément prévoir cette durée, il devient nécessaire de se mettre également d’accord sur une procédure de remplacement pour le cas où l’un des arbitres désignés viendrait à mourir – sauf pour les prêtres dans les documents n° 1 et 2, car ceux-ci sont désignés ès qualités : au décès de l’un d’eux, son remplaçant fera automatiquement partie de la commission arbitrale. Il n’en va pas de même pour le remplacement des simples particuliers, pour lequel les trois documents prévoient des modalités différentes. Dans le document n° 1, le remplaçant sera désigné d’un commun accord par les deux parties, tandis que, dans le document n° 2, c’est au maître seul que revient la décision. Ce dernier devra néanmoins respecter une condition : le remplaçant devra être un citoyen de Delphes. On pourrait être tenté d’expliquer cette restriction par la nationalité du vendeur, originaire de la petite cité de Plygonion, qui

 51 À Delphes, les prêtres d’Apollon forment un collège de deux membres nommés à vie. 52 Steinwenter 1925, 175. 53 C’est par une extrapolation indue que Beauchet 1897, 479–480, donne pour règle générale que les « arbitres étaient désignés d’avance ». – Situation identique, par exemple, dans le « contrat de mariage » cité n. 45.

  Dominique Mulliez sera absorbée par Delphes entre 191 et 189 av. J.-C.,54 soit une dizaine d’années après la conclusion de l’affranchissement concerné ; toutefois, dans le document n° 1, le maître est également originaire de Plygonion, sans que l’on n’impose pour autant que l’arbitre remplaçant soit Delphien. Le document n° 3 fait connaître des modalités de remplacement plus détaillées encore : dans une syntaxe un peu complexe, il prévoit qu’en cas de désaccord entre les parties sur le choix d’un ou plusieurs remplaçants, il n’y aura tout simplement pas de remplaçant(s) ; les membres restants garderont leur pleine capacité d’arbitrage, quand bien même il n’en resterait qu’un seul. Autrement dit, il a été admis dans l’accord préalable que les effectifs de la commission pourraient varier de trois membres à un seul membre. Si les documents n° 3, 4, 7 et 9 indiquent que la désignation des arbitres se fait d’un commun accord entre le maître et l’affranchi soumis à paramona, si les documents n° 1 et 3 prévoient que le remplacement d’un arbitre doit faire l’objet d’un accord entre les deux parties dans les conditions que l’on a exposées, il n’en demeure pas moins que la commission n’est jamais composée que de citoyens : tel est le statut des arbitres dont nous connaissons le nom ou la qualité, tel est le statut que devra avoir un éventuel remplaçant dans le document n° 2.

. La saisine des commissions arbitrales À qui revient l’initiative de la saisine de la commission arbitrale ? Steinwenter considère que la commission est saisie dès lors que le maître a à se plaindre de son affranchi « ou inversement ».55 Il me paraît que la situation est plus nuancée, essentiellement parce que le recours aux arbitres n’est motivé que par des manquements de l’affranchi aux obligations inscrites dans la clause de paramona, ce qu’expriment de façon vague les documents n° 4 ou 5, sous la forme « si l’affranchi(e) n’exécute pas l’un des ordres qui lui sont donnés… ». Les autres textes emploient des formules plus précises et recourent aux verbes ἐπικαλέω (n° 1, 2 ou 9), ἐγκαλέω56 (n° 3 ou 6) ou ἀντιλέγω (n° 1, 2, 3 ou 7). Mais on observera que jamais les verbes ἐπικαλέω ou ἐγκαλέω n’ont pour sujet l’affranchi(e) ; quant au verbe ἀντιλέγω, il ne peut renvoyer qu’à un désaccord entre le maître et son affranchi sur la façon dont ce dernier respecte les obligations de la paramona : en d’autres termes, l’affranchi ne peut que contester (ἀντιλέγω) une accusation portée contre lui (ἐπικαλέω ou ἐγκαλέω). Le document n° 2 est très éclairant de ce point de vue : il envisage le recours à des arbitres si le maître constate que ses affranchis manquent à leurs obligations ou si les  54 Voir en dernier lieu Rousset 2001, 20–27. 55 Steinwenter 1925, 174. 56 Ce verbe fait naturellement écho à l’adverbe ἀνεγκλητῶς, « sans encourir de reproche », d’un emploi très courant pour qualifier le comportement que doit avoir l’affranchi(e) dans l’exécution des ordres qui lui sont donnés au cours de la paramona.

Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques  

affranchis ont un désaccord avec leur maître (sc. sur la façon dont ils remplissent leurs obligations) ; en revanche, si c’est le maître qui porte préjudice à ses affranchis et contrevient à la fois à l’accord passé et à son serment,57 i. e. s’il remet en cause le statut même de ses affranchis, le contrat ne prévoit nullement le recours à une commission arbitrale, mais l’intervention du garant ou de toute personne qui restituera les affranchis à leur véritable propriétaire, à savoir le dieu.58 Quant au document n° 3, il rapporte ce qui pourrait être le dialogue contradictoire entre l’affranchi et son maître en présence des arbitres sur le mode « si l’un prétend que…, mais que l’autre lui reproche… » ; en outre, il soumet la saisine de la commission à une condition : τὸ δὲ ἔνκλημα μὴ μακρότερον ἐπικαλείσθω διμήνου, « l’accusation devra être portée dans un délai qui n’excèdera pas deux mois » ;59 comme le maître est seul sujet du verbe ἐγκαλέω, il est aussi seul soumis à cette condition.

. La clause exécutoire et le serment décisoire Dans tous les cas, la sentence des arbitres, quelle qu’elle soit, a force exécutoire et est sans appel : la formule est à l’éventuel et emprunte la voix active (ὅ τί κα οὗτοι κρίνωντι κύριον ἔστω : n° 1 à 8) ou passive (ὅ τι δέ κα κριθῇ κύριον ἔστω : n° 9 et peut-être 10), des formules qui font écho à la loi cité dans le Contre Midias. Dans la documentation delphique ici réunie, cinq documents mentionnent une prestation de serment (n° 2, 3, 4, 5 et 7), mais deux types de serment sont en cause. Le serment que l’on trouve dans le document n° 2 n’est pas prêté par les arbitres pour accompagner leur sentence, mais par le maître d’une part, qui s’engage à ne pas porter préjudice à ses affranchis et à ne pas s’en remettre à autrui pour le faire, par les deux affranchis d’autre part, qui promettent de respecter leur obligation de paramona.60 Ludovic Beauchet voyait dans ce serment une façon de « prévenir [les] contestations » qui pouvaient surgir entre les parties, mais il faut croire qu’on ne lui accordait qu’un crédit limité, puisque la mention de la prestation de serment est immédiatement suivie des dispositions prises pour la mise en place d’une commission arbitrale.61 Dans les autres documents (n° 3, 4, 5 et 7), le serment est un serment  57 Sur ce serment, voir ci-après. 58 Par la vente, le dieu devient juridiquement propriétaire des affranchis, auxquels il laisse leur liberté. 59 CID V, 209, l. 17. 60 Sur l’expression « par le même serment », voir Haussoullier 1917, 11 et n. 2 : « par le “même serment” il faut entendre un serment prêté dans les mêmes formes, entre les mains des mêmes prêtres, sur les chairs des mêmes victimes (ἐπὶ τῶν αὐτῶν ἱερῶν, l. 27 du règlement des Mystères d’Andanie), sous l’invocation des mêmes divinités. » 61 Beauchet a tort de présenter ce double serment comme étant de règle (Beauchet 1897, 480) ; mais Steinwenter se trompe lorsqu’il indique que Beauchet rapporte ce serment à l’énoncé de la sentence (Steinwenter 1925, 174 n. 5).

  Dominique Mulliez décisoire prêté par les arbitres avant l’énoncé de leur sentence. Ce serment n’apparaissant pas dans les autres textes (n° 1, 2, 6, 8 et 9), il faut en conclure qu’il n’est pas de règle62 – sauf à supposer que l’inscription, qui n’est pas nécessairement une transcription intégrale du document original,63 n’en a pas fait mention. L’hypothèse me paraît toutefois hasardeuse : les documents n° 1 et 2, qui sont parmi les tout premiers à avoir été gravés sur le grand mur polygonal, sont à ce point développés que j’ai peine à croire qu’ils aient pu passer sous silence un élément aussi important ; dans l’inscription n° 2, en particulier, où se lit le détail des serments prêtés par le maître et par ses affranchis, aurait-on omis la référence au serment des arbitres, pour laquelle le simple participe ὀμόσαντες aurait suffi ?

 Conclusion Le recours à des arbitres privés dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques s’inscrit dans des schémas attestés et relativement stables depuis l’époque classique, à Athènes, jusqu’à l’époque byzantine, en Égypte, mais avec deux caractéristiques propres : les commissions comptent invariablement trois membres et, pour des raisons propres à la nature des contrats, les modalités de remplacement d’un arbitre défaillant sont parfois prévues. Il est manifeste que l’on a en fait introduit dans les affranchissements une procédure qui devait avoir cours à Delphes pour régler les litiges entre citoyens. Rien de surprenant à cela : l’affranchissement adoptant la forme d’un contrat de vente, on l’a assorti d’une clause dont on trouvait le modèle dans les contrats privés. Sont pourtant associées dans cette procédure des personnes qui ne sont pas de même statut – d’une part un maître,64 d’autre part des affranchis qui, dans le cadre de la paramona, sont encore dans un rapport d’étroite dépendance ; cette inégalité de statut, on l’a vu, est parfois perceptible dans le fonctionnement même de la commission, même s’il y a débat contradictoire devant les arbitres et même si la sentence, prononcée ou non sous serment, a in fine force exécutoire pour l’une et l’autre parties.

 62 Telle était déjà la conclusion chez Steinwenter 1925, 174. 63 Mulliez 2014, 59–60. 64 J’attire l’attention sur le fait que, dans le document n° 8, Boèthos est lui-même un affranchi. Cet affranchissement est le seul du corpus dans lequel l’acheteur n’est pas Apollon Pythien, mais un simple particulier : Boèthos achète Thrassa à fin de liberté et se réserve en retour le bénéfice de la paramona.

Le recours à l’arbitrage privé dans les actes d’affranchissement delphiques  

Toutefois, sur les 1273 documents que réunit le corpus des actes d’affranchissement delphiques65 entre 200 av. J.-C. et la fin du Ier siècle ap. J.-C., dix seulement envisagent le recours à une commission arbitrale pour trancher des litiges qui pourraient surgir entre le maître et les affranchis sur la bonne exécution de la clause de paramona ; dans les autres textes, les éventuels manquements des affranchis à leurs obligations sont sanctionnés par des châtiments corporels, voire par l’annulation pure et simple de la vente. De toute évidence, le recours à une commission arbitrale constitue une disposition favorable à l’affranchi(e), mais qui demeure exceptionnelle et qui, en tout état de cause, ne se rencontre pas au-delà du milieu du IIe siècle av. J.-C.66 Or, le milieu de ce siècle marque une évolution dans le recours à l’affranchissement : à partir de cette date, en effet, on constate une diminution du nombre d’affranchissements qui n’ira qu’en s’accentuant avec le temps, une diminution progressive du nombre des esclaves étrangers au profit des οἰκογενεῖς, une diminution du nombre des vendeurs étrangers affranchissant leur esclave dans le sanctuaire pythique ;67 parallèlement, on verra apparaître dans le courant du Ier siècle av. J.-C. des mesures de plus en plus contraignantes inscrites dans la clause de paramona, avec notamment l’obligation de fournir au terme de cette période un ou plusieurs enfants aux descendants du maître. De ce point de vue, les affranchissements reflètent l’évolution d’une cité qui vit de plus en plus repliée sur elle-même et qui s’efforce de sauvegarder une organisation sociale mise à mal par une raréfaction des sources d’approvisionnement en esclaves. C’est peut-être dans ce contexte général qu’il faut replacer l’abandon complet du recours à l’arbitrage privé pour résoudre les conflits entre le maître l’affranchi soumis à paramona, dans une sorte de crispation des Delphiens sur leurs acquis.

Orientations bibliographiques Beauchet, L. (1897), Histoire du droit privé de la république athénienne II. Le droit de famille, Paris. Gernet, L. (1939), « L’institution des arbitres publics à Athènes », dans : L. Gernet, Droit et société dans la Grèce ancienne, Publications de l’Institut de droit romain 13 (1955), Paris, 103–119 (reproduction de l’article publié dans : Rev. Ét. Grec. 52 [1939], 389–414). Harrison, A.R.W. (1971), The Law of Athens II – Procedure, Oxford.

 65 À ces 1273 numéros, il faut ajouter environ 70 numéros attribués à des fragments dont ne subsistent que quelques éléments du formulaire parfois difficilement lisibles et qui ne sont pas exploitables dans le cadre d’une analyse d’ensemble du corpus. 66 Si l’on considère la seule première moitié du IIe siècle av. J.-C., durant laquelle le recours à l’arbitrage est attesté, on constate qu’à peine 2% des textes sont concernés. 67 Pour un rapide aperçu d’ensemble et en attendant la synthèse qui suivra la publication du corpus, voir Mulliez 1992, 40–41 et 44.

  Dominique Mulliez Haussoullier, B. (1917), Traité entre Delphes et Pellana. Étude de droit grec, Bibliothèque de l’École Pratique des Hautes Études 222, Paris. Hopkins, K. (1978), Conquerors and Slaves, Sociological Studies in Roman History I, Cambridge. Karabélias, É. (2005), « L’arbitrage privé dans l’Athènes classique », dans : É. Karabélias, Études d’histoire juridique et sociale de la Grèce ancienne, Annuaire du centre de recherche de l’histoire du droit grec 38, Suppl. 6, Athènes, 299–330 (reproduction de l’étude parue dans L’assistance dans la résolution des conflits. Première partie : l’Antiquité, Recueils de la Société Jean Bodin pour l’histoire comparative des institutions 63 [1996], Bruselas, 9–35). MacDowell, D.M. (1978), The Law in Classical Athens, Aspects of Greek and Roman Life, London. Mélèze-Modrzejewski, J. (2014), Loi et coutume dans l’Égypte gréco-romaine, JJP Suppl. 21, Warsaw. Modrzejewski, J. (1952), « Private Arbitration in the Law of Greco-Roman Egypt », dans : JJP 6, 239– 256. Mulliez, D. (1992), « Les actes d’affranchissement delphiques », dans : Cahiers du Centre Glotz 3, 31–44. Mulliez, D. (2014), « Archivage et affichage des actes d’affranchissement à Delphes : les obligations juridiques et leur évolution », dans : M. Fumaroli/J. Jouanna/M. Trédé/M. Zink (éds.), Hommage à Jacqueline de Romilly. — L’empreinte de son œuvre, Paris, 47–60. Pleket, H.W. (1964), Epigraphica I, Leiden. Rousset, D. (2001), Le territoire de Delphes et la terre d’Apollon, Bibl. Éc. Franc. 310, Athènes. Samuel, A.E. (1965), « The Role of Paramone Clauses in Ancient Documents », dans : JJP 15, 222– 229. Steinwenter, A. (1925), Die Streitbeendigung durch Urteil, Schiedsspruch und Vergleich nach griechischem Rechte, Münchener Beiträge zur Papyrusforschung und antiken Rechtsgeschichte 8, Munich. Taubenschlag, R. (1955), The Law of Greco-Roman Egypt in the Light of the Papyri (332 B.C.–640 A.D.)2, New York. Zelnick-Abramovitz, R. (2005), Not Wholly Free: The Concept of Manumission and the Status of Manumitted Slaves in the Ancient Greek World, Leiden and Boston.

Nikolaos Kaltsas

Προξενικό ψήφισμα από την Αιτωλία Abstract: During the excavations in the sanctuary, which probably belongs to the city of Molykreion or Molykreia, at Hellinika of Velvina, near Naupaktos, an inscribed bronze sheet was found in 2007. It is a proxeny decree, by which the Aitolians grant Kallias of Echinous proxenia and isopoliteia. Additionally, they gave Kallias asylia, asphaleia in time of war and peace, at sea and on land, and possession of οἰκίας (house) and γᾶς (land). The decree was issued when a certain Dorimachos Trichinios was general of the Aitolians. A Dorimachos from Trichonion, son of Nikostratos, held the post of general three times in the 3rd century BC. Another Dorimachos from Trichonion was general in 147/6 and 140/39 BC. As the other names of the officials of the Koinon and that of the έγγυος cannot be identified, they do not help to determine whether the general mentioned in the decree is the Dorimachos of the 3rd or that of the 2nd century BC. However, the form and the shape of letters are of the 3rd century BC. Therefore we can conclude that the decree was issued by Dorimachos of the 3rd century BC, possibly at the second time he was strategos, in 219/8 BC.

Fig. 1: Μολύκρειο. Χάλκινο ενεπίγραφο έλασμα με ψήφισμα του Κοινού των Αιτωλών. Copyright: Νικόλαος Καλτσάς.

https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-006

  Nikolaos Kaltsas Στo μικρό οροπέδιο στη θέση Ελληνικά Βελβίνας, ΒΔ της Ναυπάκτου, πραγματοποιούνται από το 2006 ανασκαφές στο ιερό που ταυτίζεται με αρκετή πιθανότητα με εκείνο του Ποσειδώνα, το οποίο κατά την παράδοση ανήκε στην πόλη Μολύκρειο ή Μολυκρεία.1 Κατά τις ανασκαφικές εργασίες του 2007 βρέθηκε μπροστά στο ναό Α2 ενεπίγραφο χάλκινο έλασμα με ψήφισμα του Κοινού των Αιτωλών3 (εικ. 1). Το έλασμα φυλάσσεται προσωρινά στο Εθνικό Αρχαιολογικό Μουσείο της Αθήνας, όπου και συντηρήθηκε4 μετά την ανεύρεσή του με αριθμό Βιβλίου Εισαγωγής ΒΕ 24/34/2007. Το έλασμα σώζεται κατά το μεγαλύτερο μέρος του. Λείπουν το δεξιό άκρο των περισσοτέρων στίχων, η άνω αριστερή γωνία μέχρι και τον τέταρτο στίχο, και τμήματα από το μέσον του τέταρτου και του πέμπτου στίχου. Η επιφάνεια διατηρείται σε σχετικά καλή κατάσταση και φέρει σκούρα φαιοπράσινη πατίνα. Σε ορισμένα σημεία στην κάτω αριστερή γωνία, όπου η πατίνα είναι πολύ λεπτή και σε ορισμένα σημεία απομακρύνθηκε χωρίς επέμβαση κατά τη διάρκεια του καθαρισμού, διακρίνεται το κιτρινωπό χρώμα του μετάλλου, η εξέταση του οποίου στο μικροσκόπιο δείχνει ότι πρόκειται για μπρούντζο, δηλαδή κράμα χαλκού και κασσιτέρου.5

 1 Η ταύτιση του χώρου με το αρχαίο Μολύκρειο, το οποίο αναφέρεται από τον Θουκυδίδη, τον Στράβωνα, τον Πλούταρχο και τον Παυσανία (Θουκυδ. 2.84 και 4.86, Στράβων 8.336C, Παυσ. 9.31.6, Πλούταρχος, Ηθικά 162E) αν και δεν έχει βεβαιωθεί επιγραφικά, έγινε για πρώτη φορά από τον Leake 1830, 150. Η ταύτιση αυτή δεν αμφισβητήθηκε και όσοι μετά τον William M. Leake επισκέφτηκαν το χώρο ή ασχολήθηκαν με αυτόν (Woodhouse 1897, 324–330, Ρωμαίος 1916, 46), αναφέρθηκαν πάντα στο Μολύκρειο. Ο Αναστάσιος K. Ορλάνδος, που πραγματοποίησε την πρώτη ανασκαφική έρευνα στο χώρο ερευνώντας ουσιαστικά μόνο τον μεγάλο ναό, και εκπονώντας το τοπογραφικό σχέδιο του ιερού με τον περίβολο του και κάποια άλλα ορατά υπολείμματα κτηρίων, υποστήριξε ότι πρόκειται πράγματι για το αρχαίο Μολύκρειο, παρά την απουσία επιγραφικών μαρτυριών, ότι το ιερό ήταν αφιερωμένο στον Ποσειδώνα και ότι είναι αυτό στο οποίο, σύμφωνα με τον Παυσανία, είχαν καταφύγει ως ικέτες ζητώντας άσυλο οι φονείς του Ησιόδου (Ορλάνδος 1924–1925, 55). 2 Μετά τον Ορλάνδο στο χώρο δεν έγινε καμιά έρευνα. Την συστηματική ανασκαφή ανάλαβε το 2006 ο υπογράφων σε συνεργασία με την κ. Αλίκη Μουστάκα, καθηγήτρια κλασικής αρχαιολογίας στο Αριστοτέλειο Πανεπιστήμιο της Θεσσαλονίκης. Στα 13 χρόνια έρευνας στο ιερό ήρθαν στο φως, εκτός από τον μεγάλο ναό (Ναός Β) που ήταν πάντοτε ορατός και τη μεγάλη διπλή στοά, ένας ακόμη μικρότερος ναός (Ναός Α), ένα κτήριο που εξυπηρετούσε λειτουργικές ανάγκες του ιερού (Κτήριο Γ), ένα άλλο ναόσχημο κτήριο (Κτήριο Δ) και, προς μεγάλη έκπληξη όλων, το στάδιο που καταλαμβάνει ολόκληρη σχεδόν την ανατολική πλευρά του ιερού. Μια πρώτη παρουσίαση των αποτελεσμάτων των ανασκαφών έγινε στο 2ο Διεθνές Συνέδριο για την Αιτωλοακαρνανία που έλαβε χώρα στο Μεσολόγγι το 2013, Βλ. Καλτσάς/Μουστάκα 2018, 275–280 . 3 Για το Κοινό των Αιτωλών, την οργάνωσή του και τον ρόλο που έπαιξε στα ελληνικά πράγματα από την ίδρυσή του έως τη διάλυση του, Βλ. Larsen 1968, 195–215; Grainger 1999, 105–164; Scholten 2000, 29–233. 4 Η συντήρηση πραγματοποιήθηκε στα εργαστήρια μεταλλίνων του Εθνικού Μουσείου από την συντηρήτρια κυρία Ράνια Καψωκόλη, την οποία και ευχαριστώ θερμά για τη συνεργασία. 5 Τον συντηρητή κύριο Παντελή Φελέρη ευχαριστώ πολύ για την εξέταση του ελάσματος στο μικροσκόπιο του εργαστηρίου μεταλλίνων του Εθνικού Αρχαιολογικού Μουσείου.

Προξενικό ψήφισμα από την Αιτωλία  

Το έλασμα είχε αναρτηθεί πιθανότατα σε ξύλινη επιφάνεια, κάποιου οικοδομικού στοιχείου του ναού Α,6 όπως δείχνει η οπή προσήλωσης διαμέτρου 4 χιλιοστών στην κάτω αριστερή γωνία. Όμοιες οπές θα υπήρχαν και στις άλλες τρεις γωνίες, οι οποίες δεν σώζονται. Οι διαστάσεις του ελάσματος είναι: – Ύψος 0,124 μ., πλ. 0,236 μ. πάχ. (μέγ.) 0,0015 μ. – Το ύψος των γραμμάτων φτάνει τα 0,011 μ. εκτός από το Ο και Θ των οποίων το ύψος δεν υπερβαίνει τα 0,004 μ. Διάστιχο: 0,002–0,004 μ. – Η γραφή δεν είναι ιδιαίτερα επιμελημένη, καθώς τόσο το διάστιχο, όσο και το μέγεθος και η μορφή των γραμμάτων ποικίλουν. Τα γράμματα έχουν σχηματιστεί με τη μέθοδο της έγκρουστης τεχνικής και «χτυπήθηκαν» με μικρό καλεμάκι ή κοπίδι.7 Το σχήμα των γραμμάτων είναι του τελευταίου τέταρτου του 3ου αι. π.Χ. (για την χρονολόγηση του ψηφίσματος βλ. παρακάτω).8 Το κείμενο της επιγραφής είναι το εξής:

5

10

[Ἀγαθ]ᾶ̣ι̣ [τύχαι]. τὸ κοινὸν τῶν Αἰτωλ[ῶ]ν ἔδω̣κε Καλλί[α]ι Ἀριστοθ̣[..]ου Ἐχιναωι προ̣[ξ]ενί καὶ ἰσοπολιτεία̣ν αὐτῶ[ι] καὶ ἐγγόν[ο]ι̣[ς καὶ] γ̣ ᾶ[ς] ἔγκ̣τησιν καὶ ο[ἰ]κία καὶ̣ ἀσφάλει[αν κα]ὶ πολέ̣μ̣[ω] κ̣αὶ εἰρ[ά]νας κ̣αὶ κατὰ γᾶ καὶ κατὰ θάλ̣α̣σ̣σα[ν καὶ] ἀσυλίαν καὶ αὐ̣τ̣[ο]ῖς καὶ χρήμασι κα[θά]π̣ερ καὶ τοῖς ἀλλοις π̣οξένοις ἔκαν τοὶ Αἰτωλοὶ στραταγ̣ έοντος Δωριμάχου Τριχονίου, γραμματεύοντος Φιλοδάμου Ναυπακτίο[υ], ἱππαρχέοντος Νίκωνος Τριχονίο̣υ̣ ἐγ̣ γυος τᾶς προξενίας Νίκω̣ν Νίκω{ω}νος Ἡρκλειώτας.

2 Ἀριστοθ̣[άλ]ου? · ΕΧΙΝΑΩ το έλασμα || 3 ΕΝΙΚΑΙ το έλασμα || 4 ΚΙΑΝ το έλασμα || 5 ΓΑΣΚ το έλασμα || 8 ΙΟΞ το έλασμα · ΕΛΟΚΑΝ το έλασμα || 13 ΩΝΟΣ το έλασμα · ΗΡΚΛ το έλασμα

 6 Το έλασμα βρέθηκε σε απόσταση περίπου 2 μ. από την πρόσοψη του ναού Α, στις 29 Αυγούστου του 2007. 7 Για την έγκρουστη τεχνική βλ. Οικονομάκη/Τζιφόπουλος 2015, 62. Στην περίπτωση του ελάσματος που εξετάζουμε δεν χρησιμοποιήθηκε η έγκρουστη τεχνική από την πίσω όψη του για να εμφανιστούν τα γράμματα ως ανάγλυφα στην κύρια όψη, αλλά «χτυπήθηκαν» απευθείας στην κύρια επιφάνεια. 8 Τον αγαπητό συνάδελφο Άγγελο Ματθαίου ευχαριστώ και από εδώ για την πολύτιμη βοήθειά του, τις παρατηρήσεις του και τις γόνιμες συζητήσεις που είχα μαζί του.

  Nikolaos Kaltsas

Παρατηρήσεις Των γραμμάτων Ο και Θ η απόδοση δεν είναι καλή, καθώς φαίνεται ότι ο χαράκτης χρησιμοποίησε στο ίδιο γράμμα καμπύλο και ευθύγραμμο καλεμάκι, με αποτέλεσμα στις περισσότερες περιπτώσεις ο κύκλος να μην είναι ενιαίος. Το Ε στις περισσότερες περιπτώσεις έχει τη μεσαία οριζόντια κεραία μικρότερη από τις άλλες δύο, αλλά σε κάποιες άλλες οι κεραίες έχουν ίδιο μήκος. Το ίδιο συμβαίνει και με το Κ το οποίο είναι γενικά ανισοσκελές. Το Π έχει το δεύτερο σκέλος μικρότερο από το πρώτο, το Ξ αποτελείται από τρεις οριζόντιες γραμμές με τη μεσαία ελαφρώς μικρότερη. Χαρακτηριστικά είναι το Φ που αποτελείται από έναν οριζόντια τοποθετημένο ρόμβο και το Ω που είναι σαν ένα καμπύλο Π με δυο οριζόντιες γραμμές να τέμνουν τα σκέλη του, ενώ σε μια περίπτωση η μια γραμμή αποτελεί συνέχεια το δεύτερου σκέλους. Αυτές οι παρατηρήσεις και τα σφάλματα δείχνουν ότι το κείμενο γράφτηκε από έναν χαράκτη αμελή. Η επιγραφή είναι ψήφισμα προξενίας του Κοινού των Αιτωλών9 και είναι ως τώρα το δεύτερο ψήφισμα του είδους που έχει βρεθεί στο ίδιο ιερό.10 Τα ελλείποντα τμήματα του κειμένου συμπληρώνονται σχετικά εύκολα με βάση και άλλα παρόμοια ψηφίσματα του Κοινού. Στ. 1. Η όχθη οριζόντιας κεραίας και το κατώτατο άκρο δεξιάς λοξής κεραίας γράμματος, καθώς και τμήμα καθέτου κεραίας του αμέσως επόμενου γράμματος, που σώζονται αντιστοίχως επάνω από τα Κ και Ε του δεύτερου στίχου ανήκουν πιθανότατα στα γράμματα Α και Ι της λέξης [ἀγαθ]ᾶι της στερεότυπης φράσης Ἀγαθᾶι τύχαι, η οποία και συμπληρώνεται βάσει άλλων, του ίδιου χαρακτήρα, επιγραφικών κειμένων.11 Στ. 2. Ο τιμώμενος Καλλίας Ἀριστοθ[άλ]ου? Ἐχιναῖος δεν είναι, από όσο γνωρίζω, γνωστός, παρότι το όνομα Καλλίας δεν είναι ασυνήθιστο στην Αιτωλία.12 Το εθνικό Ἐχιναωι μπορεί να αναφέρεται στον Ἐχῖνον ή Ἐχινέον ή Ἐχινοῦντα της Θεσσαλίας,13 αλλά και στον ομώνυμο Ἐχῖνον ή ᾽Εχίνεον της Ακαρνανίας, γνωστόν

 9 Ανήκει στην μακρά σειρά των ψηφισμάτων συνεπτυγμένης μορφής, όπως πάμπολλα του Κοινού των Αιτωλών και της πόλεως των Δελφών, βλ. Klaffenbach 1966, 70–71. 10 Το πρώτο, αποσπασματικά σωζόμενο προξενικό ψήφισμα σε χάλκινο έλασμα, βρέθηκε κατά τις έρευνες του Ορλάνδου στο εσωτερικό του ναού Β. Βλ. Ορλάνδος 1924–1925, 63 και IG IX, 1², 3 605. 11 Βλ. ενδεικτικά σε ανάλογα ψηφίσματα προξενίας των Αιτωλών: IG IX, 1², 1 5 ([Ἀγαθᾶι τύ]χαι), 6 (Ἀγαθῆι τύχηι), 7 ([Ἀγαθῆι τ]ύχηι), 8 ([Ἀγαθῆι τ]ύχηι). 12 Καλλίας από την Αιτωλία αναφέρεται ως ιερομνήμων στους Δελφούς (σε τιμητικό ψήφισμα για τον Εύδοξο τον Αργείο του 271 π. Χ. (Syll³, 1, 419; LGPN III.A, 228). Ξανά ως ιερομνήμων αναφέρεται Καλλίας από την Αιτωλία σε ψήφισμα της Δελφικής Αμφικτιονίας του 228–215 π. Χ. (Pouilloux 1976, 364; LGPN III.A, 228.). 13 RE 5,2, 1922, λ. Echinos και Inventory σελ. 710, ἀρ. 429· βλ. επίσης την επιγραφή από τον Αχινό Φθιώτιδος SEG LIV 554, στην οποία η πόλις των Εχιναίων αναθέτει τον ναό στην Ιλιάδα Αθηνά, των υστέρων ελληνιστικών χρόνων. Τέσσερις Εχιναίοι της Θεσσαλίας αναφέρονται σε κατάλογο προξένων από την Ιστιαία, βλ. IG XII 9, 1187.

Προξενικό ψήφισμα από την Αιτωλία  

τόσο από επιγραφές όσο και από τις φιλολογικές πηγές.14 Στην προκειμένη περίπτωση ο Καλλίας είναι πιθανότατα πολίτης του Εχίνου της Ακαρνανίας.15 Στ. 3. Ἀριστοθ̣[άλ]ου? εάν τα σωζόμενα ίχνη γράμματος μετά το όμικρον ανήκουν σε Θ, είναι πιθανή η προτεινόμενη στο κριτικό υπόμνημα συμπλήρωση.16 Το όνομα μαρτυρείται, από όσο γνωρίζω, μόνο στην Δήλο.17 Τα προνόμια της προξενίας18 και ἰσοπολιτείας απονέμονται τόσο στον ίδιο, όσο και στους απογόνους του (ἐγγόνοις). Στα περισσότερα ψηφίσματα προξενίας του Κοινού οι τιμές αυτές απονέμονται και στους απογόνους του τιμώμενου. Η ισοπολιτεία,19 ένα από τα κυριότερα προνόμια που παρείχε το Κοινό των Αιτωλών κατά βάση σε πόλεις που συνδέονταν και συμμαχούσαν με αυτό, απονεμόταν και ατομικά σε πολίτες, όπως προκύπτει από ένα μεγάλο αριθμό ανάλογων ψηφισμάτων. Στ. 4–6. Εκτός από τις παραπάνω τιμές, στον Καλλία απονέμονται και άλλα προνόμια, συνήθη, πάντως, στα προξενικά ψηφίσματα. Του παραχωρείται ἔγκτησις γῆς και οἰκίας, ἀσυλία,20 ἀσφάλεια του ίδιου και των απογόνων του, αλλά και της περιουσίας του, τόσο σε καιρό πολέμου, όσο και σε καιρό ειρήνης, όπως συνήθιζε να παρέχει και στους άλλους προξένους το Κοινό21 (…κα[θά]περ καὶ τοῖς ἀλλοις π|οξένοις ἔκαν τοὶ Αἰτωλοί). Σε αρκετές περιπτώσεις παρόμοιων ψηφισμάτων της Αιτωλίας δεν αναφέρονται πάντα με λεπτομέρειες όλα αυτά τα προνόμια, αλλά γίνεται αναφορά στο προνόμιο της προξενίας και τα υπόλοιπα εννοούνται με τη φράση καὶ τὰ ἄλλα ὅσα καὶ τοῖς ἄλλοις προξένοις δέδοται.22 Στ. 7. κα[θά]περ· η συμπλήρωση στηρίζεται σε αντίστοιχα προξενικά ψηφίσματα, βλ. π. χ. το ψήφισμα IG IX 12 1, 12 στ. 2 (Μουσείο Θέρμου αρ. 62).  14 Γιά τον ᾽Εχίνεον ή Ἐχῖνον ή Ἐχινοῦντα τῆς Ἀκαρνανίας βλ. Inventory, 359, ἀρ. 118. Ο Εχίνεος αναφέρεται στον κατάλογο των Θεαροδόκων ἐπ’ Ἀκαρνανίαν στην επιγραφή της Επιδαύρου IG IV 1², 95 στ. 17, μαζί με άλλες πόλεις της Ακαρνανίας. Η θέση της πόλης δεν έχει ταυτιστεί με ακρίβεια. Ο Ernst Kirsten (Philippson/Kirsten 1958, 378) θεωρεί ότι είναι επίνειο του Θυρρείου και τον τοποθετεί στη θέση Ρούγα (Philippson/Kirsten 1958, 586). Ο Φαράκλας 1996, 78–80, σωστά υποστηρίζει ότι από τα δύο γνωστά από τις πηγές επίνεια του Θυρρείου, ο Εχίνος φαίνεται πως ήταν πόλη με «χωριστή πολιτική υπόσταση και με το θεσμικό περιεχόμενο του όρου», και ότι πραγματικό επίνειο, ως εξαρτημένη πόλη, θα πρέπει να ήταν η Ηράκλεια. Τον Εχίνο τον τοποθετεί στη θέση Άγιος Ηλίας (Φαράκλας 1996, 85–86) και όχι στη θέση Ρούγα που είχε προτείνει ο Kirsten, βλ. καὶ Inventory αρ. 118. 15 Το επίθετο Εχιναίος είναι γνωστό και από επιγραφές της Αιτωλίας, βλ. π.χ. IG IX 12 1, 17 σε μεγάλη στήλη από ασβεστόλιθο στο Μουσείο του Θέρμου (αρ. ευρ. 68), όπου αναφέρεται ο Αντίφιλος Απολλοδώρου Εχιναίος ως εγγυητής της προξενίας. 16 Mαρτυρείται και το όνομα Ἀριστόθηρος, βλ. HPN σελ. 209. 17 LGPN I, 68. 18 Για το προνόμιο της προξενίας βλ. Mack 2015. 19 Για την ισοπολιτεία και τη σημασία της βλ. Larsen 1968, 202–207. 20 Larsen 1968, 207. 21 IG IX 12 1, 6, 10, 11. 22 Βλ. π. χ. IG IX 12 1, 5, 8, 12, 18. Ενδεικτικό είναι το ψήφισμα IG IX 12 1, 13 σε στήλη στο Mουσείο του Θέρμου αρ. 14, στο οποίο υπάρχουν δώδεκα ψηφίσματα, πρόκειται δηλαδή για ένα ομαδικό ψήφισμα επί στρατηγού Σκόπα του Τριχονίου.

  Nikolaos Kaltsas Στ. 7–8. Αναγράφεται ο στρατηγός του Κοινού των Αιτωλών Δωρίμαχος Τριχόνιος, χωρίς πατρωνυμικό. Από την πόλη του Τριχονίου, που έδωσε τους περισσότερους στρατηγούς των Αιτωλών23 στον 3ο αιώνα π. Χ., ο Δωρίμαχος Νικοστράτου Τριχονεύς κατείχε το αξίωμα του στρατηγού τουλάχιστον τρεις φορές.24 Ένας δεύτερος Δωρίμαχος Τριχόνιος διετέλεσε δυο φορές στρατηγός το 147/6 και το 140/39 π. Χ.25 Πρέπει να σημειωθεί ότι, επειδή το εθνικό της Αιτωλικής πόλεως του Τριχον(ε)ίου26 συναντάται στις επιγραφές και ως Τριχόνιος IG IX 12 1, 3.20 (περ. 262 π. Χ.), 1, 7.7 (262 π. Χ.), 11.43 (περ. 245 π. Χ.) και ως Τριχον(ι)εύς IG IX 12 1, 5.6 (290/89 π. Χ.), 1, 13.10 (προ του 262 π. Χ.) ήδη από το πρώτο μισό του 3ου αι. π. Χ., οι δύο διαφορετικές μορφές του εθνικού δεν συνιστούν χρονολογική ένδειξη. Στ. 10. Φιλοδάμου Ναυπακτίο[υ]· ὁ γραμματεύς του Κοινού δεν μαρτυρείται από άλλη πηγή. Το όνομα Φιλόδαμος είναι κοινό στη Δ. Ελλάδα, αλλά δεν συναντάται27 μεταξύ των Ναυπακτίων, βλ. LGPN III.A, 455. Στ. 11. Νίκωνος Τριχονίου· ο ίππαρχος του Κοινού είναι άγνωστος. Το όνομα Νίκων είναι κοινότατο στην Δ. Ελλάδα, αλλά δεν μαρτυρείται μεταξύ των Τριχονίων, βλ. LGPN III.A, 328–329. Στ. 12/13. Νίκων Νίκω{ω}νος Ἡρκλειώτας· είναι άγνωστος από άλλη πηγή. Το εθνικό μπορεί να είναι της Ηράκλειας Τραχινίας.28 Χρονολόγηση: Τα υπόλοιπα αναγραφόμενα ονόματα των αξιωματούχων του Κοινού και του ἐγγύου δεν μπορούν να ταυτιστούν με ασφάλεια και επομένως δεν συμβάλλουν στην αναγνώριση του στρατηγού Δωριμάχου, δηλ. εάν πρόκειται για τον στρατηγού του τέλους του 3ου αι. η τον ομώνυμό του των μέσων του 2ου π. Χ. Πάντως,

 23 Antonetti 2000, 178; Grainger 2000, 30f. 24 IG IX 12 1, 30, 2; LGPN III.Β, 136; Grainger 2000, 31. 155–156. Εκτός από τις επιγραφές, ο Δωρίμαχος αναφέρεται και στις φιλολογικές πηγές. Βλ. IG IX, 1, 1 σελ. XXVI 102–103. (το 219 π. Χ.) «παρὰ δὲ τοῖς Αἰτωλοῖς στρατηγὸς ᾑρέθη Δωρίμαχος ὃς παραυτίκα τὴν ἀρχὴν παραλαβὼν καὶ τοὺς Αἰτωλοὺς ἀθροίσας….» Πολύβ. 6. 67.1–5· Διόδ. 26.7. Επίσης σελ. XVII 36– κ.ε. (218 π. Χ.) «κατὰ δὲ τοὺς αὐτοὺς καιροὺς Δωρίμαχος ὁ τῶν Αἰτωλῶν στρατηγὸς Ἀγέλαον καὶ Σκόπαν ἐξαπέστειλε…» Πολύβ. 5. 2. 11–3. 3. 25 GDI 2087 (σε ψήφισμα των Δελφών γύρω στο 150–140 π. Χ.). Επίσης, σε προξενικό ψήφισμα σε στήλη από ασβεστόλιθο, από την Καλυδώνα IG IX 12 1, 137 e στ. 6 (Aρχαιολογικό Mουσείο Θέρμου αρ. 34). Χωρίς πατρωνυμικό αναφέρεται και ένας στρατηγός Δωρίμαχος Τριχονεύς σε προξενικό ψήφισμα από το Θέρμο IG IX 12 1, 30 στ. 1. Το όνομα Δωρίμαχος, πάντως, φαίνεται πως ήταν συνηθισμένο στο Τριχόνιο και ίσως πρόκειται για όνομα που δινόταν διαδοχικά σε άτομα της ίδιας οικογένειας (Grainger 2000, 31). Ο Δωρίμαχος Tριχόνιος που αναφέρεται ως ταμίας στη συνθήκη Αιτωλών και Ακαρνάνων (IG IX 12 1, 3 στ. 20) θα μπορούσε να είναι ένας από τους μελλοντικούς στρατηγούς. 26 Γιά το Τριχόν(ε)ιον βλ. Inventory, 386, αρ. 156. 27 Στην απελευθερωτική επιγραφή IG IX 12 3, 628.7 η συμπλήρωση του ονόματος είναι αβέβαιη. 28 Ήδη τὸ 280 π. Χ. οι Αιτωλοί ανάγκασαν τους Ηρακλειώτες να συμμετάσχουν στο Κοινό, βλ. Paus. 10.20.9 και ΙG IX 12 1, p. XVI (Fasti Aetolici). Γιά την ῾Ηράκλεια την λεγόμενη ἐν Τραχινίᾳ βλ. Inventory, 710, αρ. 430 και Grainger 2000, 97–99, όπου σημειώνει ότι Ηρακλειώται ανέλαβαν σύντομα υψηλές θέσεις στο Κοινό: του γραμματέως, του ιππάρχου, ακόμη και του στρατηγού.

Προξενικό ψήφισμα από την Αιτωλία  

το σχήμα των γραμμάτων συνηγορεί στην απόδοση του ψηφίσματος στον πρώτο Δωρίμαχο, το πιθανότερο στην πρώτη η δεύτερη στρατηγία του το 219/18 π. Χ.29

Βιβλιογραφία Antonetti, C. (1990), Les Étoliens. Image at religion, Besançon. Antonetti, C. (2000), «Παρατηρήσεις επί των αιτωλικών ανθρωπωνυμίων», στον τόμο: Τιμαί Ιωάννου Τριανταφυλλοπούλου, Αθήνα/Κομοτηνή, 173–179. Flacelière, R. (1937), Les Aitolians à Dephes. Contribution à l’ histoire de la Grèce centrale au IIIe siècle av. J.-C., Paris. Grainger, J.D. (1999), The League of the Aitolians, Leiden/Boston/Cologne. Grainger, J.D. (2000), Aitolian Prosopographical Studies, Leiden/Boston/Cologne. Inventory = Hansen, M. H. / Nielsen, T. H. (επιμ.) (2004), An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis, Oxford. Καλτσάς, N./Μουστάκα, A. (2018), «Νέες έρευνες στα Ελληνικά Βελβίνας (αρχαίο Μολύκρειο) », στον τόμο: Ο. Βικάτου/B. Στάικου/Φ. Σαράντη (επιμ.), Το αρχαιολογικό έργο στην Αιτωλοακαρνανία και τη Λευκάδα. Πρακτικά 2ου Διεθνούς Αρχαιολογικού και Ιστορικού Συνεδρίου, 6–8 Δεκεμβρίου 2013, Μεσολόγγι, 275–280. Klaffenbach, G. (1966), Griechische Epigraphik², Göttingen. Larsen, J.A.O. (1968), Greek Federal States. Their Institutions and History, Oxford. Leake, W.M. (1830), Travels in the Morea II, London. Lefèvre, F. (1995), «La chronologie du IIIe siècle à Delphes, d’après les actes amphictioniques (280– 200)», in: BCH 119, 161–208. Mack, W. (2015), Proxeny and Polis, Oxford. Οικονομάκη, N./Τζιφόπουλος, Γ.Z. (2015), Εισαγωγή στην Ελληνική Επιγραφική. Από τον 8ο αι. π. Χ. ως την Ύστερη Αρχαιότητα, Θεσσαλονίκη. Ορλάνδος, A.K. (1924–1925), «Ἀνασκαφαὶ ἐν Μολυκρείῳ τῆς Αἰτωλίας», in: ΑΔ Παράρτημα 9, 55–64. Φαράκλας, N. (1996), «Οι πόλεις της αρχαίας Ακαρνανίας και οι επικράτειες τους», in: Αριάδνη 8, 71–94. Philipson, A./Kirsten, E. (1958), Die griechischen Landschaften II. Das Westliche Mittelgriechenland und die Westgriechischen Inseln, Frankfurt am Main. Pouilloux, J. (1976), Les incriptions de la terrasse du temple et de la region nord du sanctuaire, N° 351–516, FdD 3, 4, Paris. Rhodes, P.J./Osborne, R. (2017), Greek Historical Inscriptions 404–323 BC, Oxford. Ρωμαίος, K.A. (1916), «Η´ Αρχαιολογικὴ Περιφέρεια», in: ΑΔ Παράρτημα 2, 46. Scholten, J.B. (2000), The Politics of Plunder: Aitolians and Their Koinon in the Early Hellenistic Era, 279–217 B.C., Berkeley/Los Angeles/London. Σωτηριάδης, Γ. (1905), «Ἀνασκαφαὶ ἐν Θέρμῳ», in: ΑΕ 1905, 57–99. Woodhouse, W.J. (1897), Aetolia. Its Geography, Topography and Antiquities, Oxford.

 29 Grainger 2000, 31. 155f.

Robert Parker

Women’s Religion in Hellenistic Athens Abstract: In some respects, the role of women in religious life becomes more visible in Hellenistic Athens than it had been hitherto: their service as priestesses or lesser cult functionaries is commemorated by honorary decrees and statues; large numbers of young women involved in weaving Athena’s Panathenaic robe begin to be listed. Some private religious societies admitted women, though male-only societies continued to predominate. But when Athens took over Delos in 166 BC, none of the ten major priesthoods then established was assigned to a woman. Most of the religious life of ordinary women known to us from the Classical period disappears from view: informal neighbourhood rites, the arkteia at Brauron and Mounichia, and above all the central element in married women’s religious calendar, the Thesmophoria. Most of these rites probably vanish because we no longer have the evidence of the main source that had hitherto revealed them, namely Attic comedy. But it would be hard to claim that the religious horizons of Athenian women were significantly expanded in the period. Among the priesthoods of Delos assigned to men in 166 is that of Artemis. An endnote collects the evidence for priests of goddesses in Athens, and rejects the possibility that men replaced women in consequence of democratic reform, since in one cult controlled by a genos (i.e. a cult pre-dating the democracy) Demeter is already served by a priest. Rather, Holderman’s old observation remains valid – that two principles were in tension: the patriarchal rule that ritual is done by men, and the practice of ‘temple worship’ by which an officiant is chosen who is best suited to the particular rites to be performed.

Mikalson’s authoritative study of Religion in Hellenistic Athens (Mikalson 2008) is organised chronologically, not thematically. It is predictably dominated by the betterdocumented doings of men. But I hope it may be interesting to set men aside and see what can be teased out about the religious experience of women in this period. In some respects, women’s role in religious life becomes more visible in Hellenistic Athens than it had been hitherto. The first surviving decrees that honour priestesses for their services date from the third century: IG II3 1, 1002, for the priestess of Aglauros (250–49 BC, cf. IG II3 1, 1373, c. 180);1 IG II3 1, 1026, Athena Polias (236/5); IG

 1 Lambert 2012b tentatively adds IG II3 1455 (c. 170), but this may just as well concern a priest of Asclepius (so Bardani and Tracy ad loc.); Agora XVI 319 (Lambert 2012b, 120 no. 25) of ? 126/5 honours an unidentifiable priestess. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-007

  Robert Parker II3 1, 1189 (c. 215) Demeter. It was perhaps in the 2nd century BC that the genos Theoinidai paid honour to its priestess of Nymphe,2 and the deme Melite to its priestess of the Thesmophoroi;3 plausible supplements suggest that the latter was invited to dedicate a [portrait] of herself on a tablet [as other priestesses too have been allowed to do]. Private associations too regularly honour their priestesses.4 A higher honour for a public priestess was presumably a statue financed or at least approved by the city. The first certain case of such a statue explicitly said to be set up by the demos (if we accept compelling supplements in a fragmentary text) honoured a priestess of Pandrosus in (perhaps) the 2nd century BC (IG II2 3481). The corpus dating of a similar honour for a kanephoros to, with a question mark, ‘IV/III a.’ is perhaps not sound (IG II2 3457), given how much less important a kanephoros was than a priestess; but a girl who served both as hearth-initiate and kanephoros (in two rituals) was so honoured in the 2nd century (IG II2 3477) and other kanephoroi in the first.5 (Note however the decrees where praise goes to the ‘father of the kanephoros’, not the girl herself, who is not necessarily named.)6 The most famous statue of a priestess was the bronze showing Lysimache, the lady who served as priestess of Athena Polias for sixty-four years, set up after her death c. 380 BC.7 The base of the statue of another old woman, Syeris the ‘attendant’ (diakonos) of Lysimache, has recently been plausibly updated to make her serve the famous Lysimache and not a postulated third century successor of the same name.8 In neither case unfortunately is it clear whether the dedication is public or private, and the point is disputed.9 If the former, the first public honouring of a priestess moves back up to the 4th century BC, but, because of the length of her tenure, Lysimache’s was perhaps an exceptional case. If the latter, the two statues were early examples of the new fashion for monuments set up by relatives.10 They have recently been joined by a priestess of Demeter and Kore dedicated by her brothers and sculpted by none another than Praxiteles (SEG LI 215). Thereafter a scattering of cases of priestesses so honoured are known from the 3rd and 2nd centuries BC;11 and it is in  2 Vanderpool 1979, 213–215. 3 Agora XVI 277 = XXXI 35. 4 So repeatedly in the society of orgeones of Magna Mater in the Piraeus: IG II2 1314–1316. 1334; in other societies IG II2 1334 (unidentifiable orgeones), 1337 (orgeones of Syrian goddess). 5 IG II2 3489, IEleusis 282. But Agora XVIII H 330 (by supplement) and IG II2 3483 are private statues of kanephoroi. 6 IG II3 1, 920 (266/265 ? BC); ? 1025 (238/237 BC); 1284, 9–11 (186/185 BC). 7 Pliny HN 34.76; CEG 757. 8 Keesling 2012. 9 Public: Keesling 2012, 494; private, Ma 2013,170. 10 Ma 2013, 198. 11 3rd century BC: IG II2 3455 (a priestess of Athena Polias: perhaps still late 4th century BC); 3459 (Pheidostrate the priestess of Aglauros). John Ma has pointed out to me that the latter might have formed part of a family grouping with the statue of her brother Chremonides (ISE 21; cf. too IG II2

Women’s Religion in Hellenistic Athens  

the late 3rd century BC that the long series begins of statues of little girls who have served as arrephoroi.12 Another even longer series of child statues, that of Eleusinian ‘hearth-initiates’ (of both sexes, but girls appear more often than boys), begins about a century later.13 Late Hellenistic Attica therefore granted substantial recognition to named women and girls who had roles in public religion (whereas the archaic korai and the little girl statues of Brauron are, to the best of our knowledge, generic). The novelty is not absolute: two 4th century document reliefs that survive without text depict females (one holding a key) crowned by Athena, and probably prove that public recognition of female cult personnel had already begun then; statues too, we have seen, began in the 4th century BC.14 There had always been cases of self-advertisement by, or at least put in the mouths of, priestesses, of a kind not normal for women of any other station.15 Even so, it is reasonable to detect an increase in scale in the Hellenistic period. In numbers of statues of religious officiants, though not of honorary decrees, women may outnumber men. In the last decade of the 2nd century appear the first decrees in honour of the ergastinai, the girls who ‘work the wool’ for the robe brought to Athena at the Panathenaia. Their names are duly listed in the inscription on the acropolis, and they are there in great numbers, about 115 in each cohort.16 It is hard not to suspect that the office was introduced or at least expanded in this period: the lists of ergastinai provide such a neat parallel to the contemporary lists of ephebes, many of whom are in fact their brothers. We are here at the highpoint of what has been called the Indian

 3458). The well-known surviving statue of Aristonoe priestess of Nemesis at Rhamnous (IG II2 3462; IRhamnous 133; Petrakos 1999, 288 with fig. 201; Ma 2013, 171 fig. 5.4) is normally dated to the 3rd century BC, but Tracy 1990, 165, proposes downdating it to the mid 2nd century BC on epigraphic grounds (accepted by Dillon 2010, 198 n. 281); certainly in the 2nd century BC there are two priestesses of Athena Polias, IG II3 4, 1386 (perhaps public according to Keesling 2012, 499), IG II2 3484–3485. 12 Choremi 2004–09, 137f., with 21 examples in all. Crucial for the start of the series is the archon date in IG II2 3461. 13 Clinton 1974, 98–114. From about the Augustan period some statues of arrephoroi and hearthinitiates are said to have been dedicated by the (Areopagus and) Boule (and Demos) (e.g. IG II2 3554. 3556; IEleusis 329. 352) or by the parents ‘in accord with a request to the Areopagus’ (IEleusis 635– 636); in IEleusis 522 it is specified that the girl’s guardian is charged with the setting up (and doubtless payment). 14 Lawton 1995, 125 no. 91 and 151f. no. 164; for more bibliography see Keesling 2012, 494 n. 88. 15 IG I3 953 (CEG 317), kosmos dedicated by Lysistrate the propolos of Demeter; IG II3 4, 1505 (CEG 775), a priestess of Aphrodite Pandemos, her sister and the sister’s son join in “adorning this (temple, altar?) with, as gifts, our pictures”; they proclaim their generosity, and name themselves, on an elaborately decorated architrave. With this contrast IG II3 1, 879, where the priestess in the same cult (unnamed) is to be represented by her οἰκεῖος. Note too post mortem (a different case) IG I3 1330 (CEG 93; Osborne/Rhodes 2017, no. 179), the first priestess of Athena Nike. 16 Parker 2005, 227 n. 41.

  Robert Parker summer of Athenian religion,17 that late flourishing enabled by good relations with Rome and the reacquisition in 166 BC of the free port of Delos. On Delos itself many girls who served as ‘under-priestess’ of Artemis or as kanephoroi in various cults were accorded statues by their parents.18 But Delos also illustrates the limits set on women’s role even in religious life. The situation that the Athenians confronted on taking control of the island in 166 BC was a unique one. Having expelled the population of one of the two greatest religious centres of the Greek world, they were obliged to set up a new structure of priesthoods, ignoring some existing cults, combining others. An inscription of 158/157 BC, apparently complete in the relevant section, reveals ten annual priesthoods. All are held by men.19 A decree honours ‘the priests on Delos’ of the year 153/152 BC for their sacrifices: nine are named (had one died in post?), all again men (IDélos 1499). ‘Under priestesses’ of Artemis, we have seen, were honoured with statues. But every one of those statues, where the dedication survives, was set up by the girl’s parents; she was therefore young and presumably had little responsibility, whereas the cult during Delian independence had been served by a priestess (about whom admittedly we know nothing except that she existed).20 A second important cult of Artemis was that of ‘Artemis on the island’ (an island dependent on Delos: which island is controversial). This had hitherto been in charge of a neokoros, but now received a priest, one of the ten mentioned in the inscription of 158/157 BC. Thus, in both cases the gender of the previous cult official was maintained, but the male now assumed the more responsible post of full priest. Athena was worshipped only in pairings with Zeus (Polieus/Polias; Soter/Soteira) and thus by a priest. There were in fact some Athenian priestesses on the island (of Demeter and Aphrodite; we hear of them from inventories),21 but, as we have seen, the list of those who made sacrifices for the good of the inhabitants in 153/152 BC consisted exclusively of men. We can note too that of the 500 or so participants in the Pythais or procession to Delphi of 106/105 BC, another emblem of the ‘Indian summer’, just 13 were women, even if one of these, the priestess of Athena Polias (perhaps the only mature woman among them), was then honoured in a decree by Delphi.22

 17 Mikalson 1998, 242–287; Deshours 2011, 131–136 (on the ergastinai). 18 IDélos 1867–1874. 1907. 2061. 19 IDélos 2605; cf. Mikalson 1998, 216–218; Bruneau 1968, 505f. (a most useful table showing the attested priestly offices on the island before and after the Athenian occupation). 20 IDélos 147.7; Bruneau 1968, 195. 21 Bruneau 1968, 283. 341. 22 Syll.3 711K = IG II2 1136. The others were eleven basket-bearers, certainly parthenoi, and a fire-bearer of uncertain status (Parker 2005, 83 n. 14): “une fois mariées, les femmes disparaissent de la théorie”, Karila-Cohen 2009, 139.

Women’s Religion in Hellenistic Athens  

None of this teaches us very much about the religious life of ordinary women. All or almost all the women who held priesthoods or served in cults in this period belonged to the upper classes; and even among upper class women it is noticeable that most of the attention goes to young unmarried girls. If a group of Thyiades was already going to Delphi (as in the time of Pausanias) in midwinter in alternate years to celebrate Dionysus with the local women, the likelihood must be that they too were drawn from the upper classes.23 But evidence for women’s religion among broader groups is hard to find. No female ritual is more celebrated than that of the ‘bears’ of Artemis at Brauron (though even here we are very probably dealing with girls of fairly prosperous parents).24 The sanctuary at Brauron was still in use in the late 4th century BC, but on the received view became unusable through flooding quite soon thereafter. There is no sign that the arkteia continued at the other site where it is attested in the classical period, the sanctuary of Artemis Mounichia.25 Were there then no more ‘bears’ for Artemis? The bears were anyway, again, young girls. For married Athenian women the central religious focus was the cult of Demeter, and within it, above all, the great festival of Thesmophoria, for which they left home for three days. Scattered references to priestesses of the Thesmophoroi theai and dedications to them continue into the Roman period, but the festival itself slips from our view.26 The case is no clearer with two other festivals of Demeter. Prytany decrees speak of prytaneis ‘sacrificing the Stenia’;27 Hellenistic decrees from Eleusis speak once of a general, once of the demarch, making sacrifice ‘at the Haloa to Demeter and Kore and the other traditional gods on behalf of the Athenian people’, and also repeatedly mention the ‘ancestral agon’ of the Haloa as an occasion for the proclamation of honours.28 In our other evidence the Haloa had a public part involving men, a private part confined to women, whereas the Stenia was exclusive to women. The women are wholly absent from the Hellenistic evidence for both festivals.

 23 Paus. 10.4.3; cf. Parker 2005, 82f. 24 On this problem, see Parker 2005, 233f. 25 The krateriskoi that attest the arkteia at Mounichia cease in the mid 5th century BC, but that is not decisive as they cease at Brauron at the same time, though the rite there certainly continued (Palaiokrassa 1991, 80f.). For the relative decay of the Mounichia sanctuary in the late Hellenistic period, see Palaiokrassa 1991, 90f. The last evidence for activity at Brauron is the ‘law of the nomothetai’ (SEG LII 104), which Nikolaos Papazarkadas tells me is now securely datable to the Lycurgan period. 26 IG II3 4, 1016 (‘s. I/ll p.’); IG II3 4, 1018 (‘med. s. II p.’), and the theatre seats IG II2 5132. 5136; and see n. 3 above for the priestess of the deme Melite c. 180 BC. 27 Stenia: Agora XV 70, 7 (by supplement). 78, 8. 240, 9 (supplement again). 28 General: IEleusis 196, 9 (he invites “all the citizens” to the banquet, IEleusis 196, 11–13); demarch: IEleusis 229, 7. 34; proclamation IEleusis 184, 14–15. 196, 29. 211, 47–48. The Haloa reappears in an unclear context in IEleusis 435 (probably 2nd century AD). For the other evidence for these festivals, see Parker 2005, 199f. 480.

  Robert Parker That the Thesmophoria were no longer celebrated or that women no longer participated in Stenia and Haloa is very hard to credit: the very heart of women’s religious experience would have stopped beating, and for what reason? (A similar issue arises, mutatis mutandis, in relation to a central male festival, also lasting three days, the Apatouria.)29 If we accept the consensus that the Thesmophoria was celebrated, like the Apatouria, not by Athenian women en masse at one place but at a variety of sites within Attica,30 the disturbances of the Attic countryside in the 3rd century BC will have been disruptive to the Thesmophoria. But new arrangements could have been made. A more cautious conclusion is that we learnt of these festivals, in the classical period, almost exclusively from comedy, oratory and later antiquarian comment and reconstructions deriving from them, and their apparent disappearance is due to the drying up of those sources. Another important form of women’s ritual was the ‘allnighter’, the pannychis. Predictably most of the many pannychides known from the classical period drop out of view. But one supervised by the priestess of Aglauros is known, perhaps at the Panathenaea, and decrees honouring priests of Asclepius routinely speak of their role in organising them at the two annual festivals of that god.31 The festivals of the previous paragraph were publicly organised. But there was also in the Classical period an unofficial sphere of women’s religious activity. At the Adonia, women – citizens and non-citizens together – lamented for Aphrodite’s lost lover, who was also one suspects their own fantasy lover, each year on the rooftops.32 They popped round to a neighbour’s for an impromptu festival of Hecate, or went in hordes (so at least claims Lysistrata) if summoned to a ‘Bacchic rite or the shrine of Pan, or of (Aphrodite) Genetyllis’. They probably joined thiasoi led by self-appointed priestesses.33 This whole world, revealed to us above all by comedy (and in the case of the Adonia by vases), once again vanishes in this form in the Hellenistic period. We hear instead only of bodies sufficiently organised and formalised to set up inscriptions. On Salamis, a predominantly male koinon of thiasotai has three female members in or near the late fourth century; the civic status of both men and women is unclear. There are annual priestesses in the society of orgeones of the Mother attested  29 It appears by a doubtful supplement in IG II2 1299, 29–30 and several times in Walbank 2015 (but readings in this very worn text need to be controlled). 30 As argued by Clinton 1996 and widely accepted. 31 Aglauros: IG II/III 13 1002, 28–29. Asclepius: Parker 2005, 462 (on pannychides in general Parker 2005, 166. 182). An attractive but uncertain supplement in one of the Asclepius texts, SEG XVIII 26, 22, introduces a maiden chorus, which would be appropriate. A pannychis in Agora XV 253, 10 (118/117 BC) is assigned to the Chalkeia by supplement. 32 The last evidence known to me is that of IG II2 1261, 9 (“procession of the Adonia”), of 302/301 BC, and 1290, 10 of the mid 3rd century BC, but the latter text certainly and the former plausibly comes from a private Cypriot society; so this is something different from the women’s Adonia of the rooftops. 33 Ar. Lys. 1–2. 700–702 (cf. 387–398 for ‘Adoniasmos on the roofs’); thiasoi: Dem. 19.281, IG II2 1177, 3–4, and the fragment of the prosecutor’s speech against Phryne (if genuine) cited by a late rhetorician (Parker 1996, 162).

Women’s Religion in Hellenistic Athens  

in the Piraeus from 272/271 BC onwards. Subsequently lesser female officials appear too, and, given this, we can surely assume that other women could be members of this group. And since the attested male members were mainly citizens, the women probably were wives or daughters of citizens.34 An inscription of 215/214 BC from the Kerameikos region has recently shown us a woman of Kallatis being honoured as an epimeletria by a mysterious ‘synodos of the good goddess’ on the motion of a citizen. One might suspect her of being a special case, because she was a benefactress of the group: a society of Sarapiasts attested in the same year has a proeranistria but no other visible female member.35 But in the case of the woman of Kallatis, a roughly contemporary decree from what is probably the same association includes a full membership list of 37 men and 27 women; another found nearby of similar date, though perhaps from a different group, again shows a mixed membership,36 while a dedication by another mixed gender koinon of eranistai is now dated to the end of the 3rd century BC (IG II3 4, 654). The names in these last three cases are unfortunately listed completely barely, but the citizen proposer of honours for the woman of Kallatis warns against assuming automatically that they are non-citizens; so too does a (mixed gender) list of eranistai of the second half of the 2nd century BC (IG II3 4, 661) where demotics or patronyms are added only where needed to distinguish homonyms.37 There are also frustrating lists of names where it is quite unclear what the persons listed were members of.38 It emerges – to speak cautiously – that women, and not just priestesses or benefactresses, were admitted as members to some private religious associations, and that these included associations whose members were partly or even predominantly citizens; some of these women were therefore doubtless themselves of citizen stock, even if we cannot identify any such individual (priestesses aside) with certainty. Men-only religious associations, however, certainly do not disappear, but remain in fact predominant. How this situation is to be evaluated in comparison with what preceded it is a delicate question. On the positive side one can say that women could now be listed as members of some established religious associations, whereas earlier, at best,  34 Salamis: IG II2 2347 = IG IV2 II 1077 (Kloppenborg/Ascough 2011, no. 12). Mother: above, n. 4, first IG II2 1316 (Kloppenborg/Ascough 2011, no. 16); lesser officials: IG II2 1328 (Kloppenborg/ Ascough 2011, no. 34), 10f. 35 Good goddess: SEG LVI 203, now independently dated to 215/214 BC by Knoepfler 2016 and Eckhardt 2017 (the latter accepts, the former rejects, an association of the new text with the nearby sanctuary of Artemis Kalliste). Sarapiasts: IG II2 1292 (Kloppenborg/Ascough 2011, no. 26). 36 Respectively IG II2 1297 (Kloppenborg/Ascough 2011, no. 24) and 1298 (Kloppenborg/ Ascough 2011, no. 20); for associating the former with the new synodos decree (on grounds of shared formulae), and dissociating the latter, see Knoepfler 2016, 208–211; Eckhardt 2017, 40f., leaves the question about 1298 open. 37 Cf. Parker 1996, 340 n. 41. I accept the IG II3 4 dates for IG II3 4, 654 and 661. That such dedications attest permanent associations has been doubted: Arnaoutoglou 2003, 70–87 argues that they do. 38 Arnaoutoglou 2003, 100 n. 39.

  Robert Parker they received cuts of meat in their capacity as wives of members.39 But, as noted above, there had always been, and very likely continued to be, informal celebrations and thiasoi in which women (in all probability) were involved. So, whether women’s scope for religious activity of this kind expanded or contracted or stayed about the same is a moot point. Three unfortunate women who were prosecuted, and two actually executed, in the 4th century BC for organising thiasoi have become rather famous as illustrating the limits of Athenian religious tolerance.40 No such prosecutions are known later, but we lack the sources liable to reveal them. A disappointing number of uncertainties remain. Evidence for the religious life of Attica declines in the Hellenistic period in several areas. Sometimes we are dealing with a change in what actually happened, sometimes in the character of our evidence, and sometimes the distinction is unclear. Dedications at almost all shrines drop off sharply, for reasons that are mysterious. Demes and phratries all but vanish from the picture, and here it is safe to conclude that they declined drastically in importance: much of the evidence for them had always been epigraphic, and epigraphic production did not decrease in the Hellenistic period, so the loss of such evidence is eloquent. Large areas of women’s religious activities disappear from view, but here, as we have noted repeatedly, the explanation lies largely in the loss of the main earlier sources of evidence (comedy, vases, oratory). A hint of what may have been lost comes in a remarkable but neglected text of (?) the Augustan period (IG II2 1346) in which women pass a resolution (δεδόχθαι ταῖς [ ]) committing the annual priestesses to scrupulous stewardship of the property of the gods/goddesses: a women’s only society? A trace of the elusive Thesmophoria? But this is an exception. For women’s religious life, epigraphy had normally never been more than an occasional source: in the Hellenistic period, it shows us honours paid to women of high status, but seldom allows us to drill down further. Inscriptions and archaeology give extraordinary insight into many aspects of life in some places in Attica in the Hellenistic period: the superb volumes IOropos and IRhamnous are veritable treasure-houses. But in respect of women’s religion the lights go out in the Hellenistic period, our picture changes from coloured to black and white.

Endnote: Priests of Goddesses in Athens It may cause surprise that the Athenians appointed a priest, not a priestess, to serve the Delian ‘Artemis on the island’. (The case of the male priest who served Hagne Aphrodite is different: he was heir to the Hieropolitan priest in the cult of Hadad and

 39 Agora XVI 161 (= LSS 20), 17–23. 40 Parker 1996, 162f.; Eidinow 2016.

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Atargatis which morphed into that of Hagne Aphrodite when taken over by the Athenians some time before 112/111 BC.)41 But priests serving goddesses are far from unknown in Attica. They are commonest for Artemis. The earliest attestation is a remarkable fragment of the 5th century BC comic poet Metagenes, quoted in a scholion on Aristophanes (Birds 873) where the cult of Artemis Kolainis is being discussed. It runs: Μεταγένης δὲ ἐν Αὔραις (fr. 1 in CGF) τίς ἡ Κολαινὶς Ἄρτεμις; ἱερεὺς γὰρ ὢν τετύχηκα τῆς Κολαινίδος.42

Artemis Kolainis was worshipped both in the east Attic deme Myrrhinous (IG II2 1182; IG II3 4, 1099. 1103; Paus. 1.31.4), and, by the imperial period at least, in the city (IG II3 4, 1069. ? 1104; IG II2 4791). Which cult is referred to in Metagenes is uncertain; but one or the other was still served by a priest in the 2nd century AD or later.43 A list of office-holders from the 2nd century BC mentions a [ --- Ἀρτ]έμιδος Ἀγροτέρας.44 The holder was certainly male, and [ἱερεὺς] is the obvious restoration.45 Quite unambiguously, the honorary decree IG II3 1, 1028 of 234/233 BC shows that Artemis Kalliste near the Kerameikos was served by a lot-appointed annual priest. A fragmentary 4th century BC decree found on the Acropolis (IG II3 1, 531) is to be displayed in the sanctuary of an epithetless Artemis; it too is dated ‘when X was priest’. Unfortunately we do not know whether the decree was issued by the city or by an association, nor that its original place of display was the Acropolis.46 If it is indeed from the Acropolis, we need a priest of Artemis up there, and a much later-attested (20/19 BC) ‘pyrphoros and priest of the Graces and Artemis Epipyrgidia’ (of the Acropolis bastion) drawn from the genos of the Kerykes becomes a possibility;47 he is at all events another priest serving Artemis. Finally we can mention the private society of worship-

 41 Bruneau 1968, 466–473. 42 Metagenes fr. 1 K/A. K/A divide the Metagenes fr. between two speakers: A asks “who is Artemis Kolainis?”, B replies “[I’m the right person to ask], for I happen to be her priest”. But one could also imagine a single speaker who has been appointed by lot to a cult of which he is ignorant. 43 IG II2 5057; 5140 is for the same cult, but whether for an earlier priest, a different official, or the cult at Myrrhinus is obscure: Maass 1972, 126. 44 Crosby 1937, 457f., no. 7. 45 But it will be excluded if κληιδοῦχος in IG II3 4, 1092 = CEG 770 (n. 49 below) means ‘priestess’ and refers to this cult. 46 Cf. Lambert 2012a, 90 and ad loc. The inventory IG II2 1526 seems not to belong to Artemis Brauronia (Linders 1972, 6); it puzzlingly mentions both a priest and a “kyrios of the priestess” (lines 6 and 27), whence Lambert 2012a, 210 raises the possibility of a husband and wife priestly team; but would the same individual be mentioned as both “priest” and “kyrios of the priestess”? 47 IEleusis 300, 9–11, and the theatre seat IG II2 5050.

  Robert Parker pers of Artemis Soteira, attested in the 30s BC, in which the priesthood rotated annually among males.48 (Another private society with a priest is the synodos of ‘Good goddess’ [SEG LVI 203] mentioned above.) The paradoxical outcome is that priestesses of Artemis prove no more common than priests.49 Demeter too had at least one priest, even if at Eleusis she was served by ‘the priestess of Demeter and Kore’ drawn from the genos Philleidai, one of the best attested of Athenian priesthoods.50 At Athens, a theatre seat was set aside for ‘the priest of Demeter and Pherrhephatte’.51 What cult he served is unknowable: possibly the Pherrhephattion in the Agora (Dem. 54.8). We cannot know whether it was to this cult or another that the genos of Poimenidai provided ‘the priest of Demeter’: we hear both about the genos and the priesthood from a single short notice in Hesychius (π 2725). At the Metroon in the Agora, ‘Mother’, a figure sometimes assimilated to Demeter, was served by a priest; so too in the metic thiasos of the Mother of the Gods briefly attested in the 3rd century BC, though not in the much longer-lasting citizen society of the same goddess.52 Of the three cults of Aphrodite whose personnel we know, Aphrodite Pandemos had a priestess, Aphrodite Euploia and (late attested) Aphrodite at Alopeke priests.53 A theatre seat of the late (?) imperial period again provides our sole evidence for a ‘priest of Ourania Nemesis’ (IG II2 5070).54 Nemesis at Rhamnus had a priestess, in the Hellenistic period at least (IRhamnous 120–122); the seat probably refers to a cult in the city known from dedications.55 Priests serve deified abstractions such as Eukleia and Eunomia (IG II2 5059), Demokratia (IG II2 5029a), Olympia Nike (IG II2 5027) and (if they belong in this group)

 48 IG II2 1343 (Kloppenborg/Ascough 2011, no. 48). Were a public cult of Artemis Soteira attested, one could suppose that the priesthoods mentioned in the decree (24–25, 37) belonged to that. 49 Clear cases are the priestesses of Artemis Brauronia (e. g. Hyperides fr. 199), of Artemis Aristoboule at Melite (IG II3 4, 1057), and a ‘life priestess’ whose dedication to Artemis was found at modern Aspropyrgos, 5 km north-east of Eleusis (IG II3 4, 1097). For the possibility that the priesthood of Artemis Mounichia was vested in a genos of Baridai/Embaridai, see Parker 1996, 319f.; even if it was, it is not certain that it was filled by women. IG II3 4, 1092 = CEG 770 is set up by a female κληιδοῦχος (priestess? or something humbler?) of Artemis’ temple ‘in the city’ (mostly supplemented: ἀ̣[στ]ε̣ [ί]ου); she addresses the goddess as Ἀγρετέρα. 50 Clinton 1974, 68–76. Note too the late IG II2 1352, ἱερέως τῆς Ὀμ[πνίας Δήμητρος] (suppl. Boeckh). 51 IG II2 5074: “wohl 2. Jh. n. Chr. oder später”, Maass 1972, 136. 52 Metroon: IG II3 4, 1313 (328/327 BC); still apparently in the 3rd century AD, IG II2 1817, 9–10. Metic thiasos: IG II2 1273, 13; citizen society e. g. IG II2 1316. 53 Pandemos: n. 15 above; Euploia: IG II3 4, 1514 (4th century); at Alopeke: IG II2 3683 (for a kanephoros in this cult see 3636 – both attestations are from the high empire). 54 Maass 1972, 134, offers no date, but speaks of “schlechte, mit kursiven Buchstaben uneinheitlich vermischte Schrift”. 55 IG II2 4747. 4865. 4817a.

Women’s Religion in Hellenistic Athens  

the Muses (IG II2 5067). They also appear where a god is paired with a goddess: Zeus Soter and Athena Soteira, the mysterious Eleusinian Theos and Thea.56 Goddesses can also be served by a pairing of priest and priestess: so Hagne Theos at Aixone, and Bendis, in the society of her orgeones (but in a thiasos on Salamis she had just a priest).57 Can any rationale for all this be found? It has always been known that there are exceptions to the old rule of thumb ‘priest for god; priestess for goddess’,58 but it is hard to get beyond the point of acknowledging the fact. One might think about the contrast at Athens between the earlier life priesthoods, appointment to which was from designated gene, and the younger ‘democratic’ and usually annual priesthoods appointed from ‘all Athenians’. Since the latter system assimilated priesthoods to all the other magistracies similarly appointed, it might have been felt that they too, like other magistracies, should be confined to men. Among priests mentioned above, the annual priest of Artemis Kalliste would fit this hypothesis; so too might the man appointed to serve a goddess, Artemis Kolainis, of whom he knows nothing (one would expect a gennete to know the cults of his own genos), and the priests of Meter at the Metroon and Artemis Agrotera, whose terms may well have been annual.59 But the first attested ‘democratic’ priesthood is famously that of Athena Nike, and this went to a woman (admittedly it may not have been annual); Aphrodite Pandemos too was served by women who may have held office for a year only.60 Conversely, a priest of Demeter was recruited from the genos of Poimenidai. The attempt to relate the phenomenon to political development therefore fails. At Athens, the best we can say is that some goddesses (Athena, Hera) never to our knowledge when worshipped singly have priests, whereas others oscillate. Since we find genos cults of Demeter with both priests and priestesses, these oscillations apparently go back far in time. (But Linear B unfortunately provides only one priest

 56 Zeus Soter: e. g. IG II2 783; Theos and Thea: IG I3 78 (IEleusis 28A) 38–9. 57 SEG LIV 214, 23–28; IG II2 1361 (Kloppenborg/Ascough 2011, no. 4) 6–7; IG II2 1317b and SEG II, 10 (Kloppenborg/Ascough 2011, 118f.). The oracular question when the cult of Bendis was first established in Athens (IG I3 136, 29–30) may have concerned the priest’s gender, but Jameson’s apparatus criticus ad loc. reveals other possibilities. The goddess served by a priest in the private society IG II2 1289 is unknown. 58 Holderman 1913 remains a valuable though by now very incomplete collection of evidence; for Rhodes (where priests prevail to an extreme extent), see Zachhuber 2018. Cf. Pirenne-Delforge 2005, 7 “On peut simplement observer que les femmes servent plus souvent des déesses que des dieux, alors que les hommes se retrouvent de part et de l’autre”. 59 Mother: so Lambert 2010, 159 (but a priest’s decision to date a dedication by archon year does not prove that he served for that year only.). Artemis Agrotera: he appears, if correctly supplemented, in a list of annual office-holders (Crosby 1937, 457f., no. 7). But for the editors’ different view of the fragment referring to Artemis Kolainis, see n. 42 above. 60 As suggested by Lambert 2010, 158f. (but cf. Parker 1996, 127 n. 21). Athena Nike: IG I3 35 (Osborne/Rhodes 2017, no. 137).

  Robert Parker or priestess of an identifiable cult, the ‘Priestess of the Winds’.)61 No example of a change from one gender to the other within an individual cult is known to me, at Athens or elsewhere. Holderman 1913, in what remains the one full study of the phenomenon, drew a contrast between ‘patriarchal worship’, in which the head of the community, thus a man, performs the necessary sacrifices to any god who may need to be propitiated (so for instance Nestor to Athena in Odyssey 3.380–473), and ‘temple worship’, where an individual is in charge of each shrine and can be chosen to suit the rites of the particular cult (most obviously priestesses for women-only or specially feminine rites). Those contrasting factors or pressures are well-observed; but in many particular cases the reason why one or the other prevailed is unclear.

Bibliography Arnaoutoglou, I.N. (2003), Thusias heneka kai Sunousias. Private Religious Associations in Classical Athens, Athens. Bruneau, P. (1970), Recherches sur les cultes de Délos à l’époque hellénistique et à l’époque impériale, Paris. Choremi, E.L. (2004–09), “Ἀναθηματικὴ ἐπιγραφὴ ἀρρηφόρου (IG II2 3473 + IG II2 4283)”, in: Horos 17–21, 133–142. Clinton, K. (1974), The Sacred Officials of the Eleusinian Mysteries, Transactions of the American Philosophical Society 63.5, Philadelphia. Clinton, K. (1996), “The Thesmophorion in Central Athens and the Celebration of the Thesmophoria in Attica”, in: R. Hägg (ed.), The Role of Religion in the Early Greek Polis, Skrifter Utgivna av Svenska Institutet i Athen, 80, 15, Stockholm, 111–125. Crosby, M. (1937), “Greek Inscriptions”, in: Hesperia 6, 442–468. Deshours, N. (2011), L’été indien de la religion civique. Étude sur les cultes civiques dans le mondes égéen a l’époque hellénistique tardive, Paris. Dillon, S. (2010), The Female Portrait Statue in the Greek World, Cambridge. Eckhardt, B. (2017), “Vereins- und Stadtkult im Heiligtum der Artemis Kalliste in Athen”, in: Athenaeum 150, 31–42. Eidinow, E. (2016), Envy, Poison and Death: Women on Trial in Ancient Athens, Oxford. Holderman, E.S. (1913), A Study of the Greek Priestess, Diss. University of Michigan, Chicago. Horster, M./Klöckner, A. (eds.) (2012), Civic Priests. Cult Personnel in Athens from the Hellenistic Period to Late Antiquity, Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche und Vorarbeiten 58, Berlin. Karila-Cohen, K. (2009), “Les filles d’Athènes a Delphes”, in: L. Bidiou et al. (eds.), Chemin faisant. Mélanges en l’honneur de Pierre Brulé, Rennes, 133–142. Keesling, C.M. (2012), “Syeris, Diakonos of the Priestess Lysimache on the Athenian Acropolis (IG II2 3464)”, in: Hesperia 81, 467–505. Kloppenborg, J.S./Ascough, R.S. (2011), Greco-Roman Associations: Texts, Translations and Commentary I, Attica, Central Greece, Macedonia, Thrace, Berlin. Knoepfler, D. (2016), “Une femme de Callatis à Athènes dans un nouveau décret d’association religieuse au IIIe siècle av. J.-C.”, in: A. Robu/I. Bîrzescu (eds.), Mégarika, Paris, 197–215.  61 Lejeune 1960, 133. New texts and interpretations seem not to have changed the position.

Women’s Religion in Hellenistic Athens  

Lambert, S.D. (2010), “A Polis and its Priests: Athenian Priesthoods before and after Pericles’ Citizenship Law”, in: Historia 59/2, 143–175. Lambert, S.D. (2012a), Inscribed Athenian Laws and Decrees 352/1 – 322/1 BC, Leiden. Lambert, S.D. (2012b), “The Social Construction of Priests and Priestesses”, in: Horster/Klöckner 2012, 67–134. Lawton, C. (1995), Attic Document Reliefs: Art and Politics in Ancient Athens, Oxford. Lejeune, M. (1960), “Prêtres et prêtresses dans les documents mycéniens”, in: Hommages à Georges Dumezil, Coll. Latomus 14, Brussels, 129–139. Linders, T. (1972), Studies in the Treasure Records of Artemis Brauronia, Stockholm. Ma, J. (2013), Statues and Cities, Oxford. Maass, M. (1972), Die Prohedrie des Dionysostheaters in Athen, Munich. Mikalson, J.D. (1998), Religion in Hellenistic Athens, Berkeley. Osborne, R./Rhodes, P.J. (2017), Greek Historical Inscriptions 478–404 BC, Oxford. Palaiokrassa, L. (1991), Tὸ Ἱερὸ τῆς Ἀρτέμιδος Μουνιχίας, Athens. Parker, R. (1996), Athenian Religion. A History, Oxford. Parker, R. (2005), Polytheism and Society in Ancient Athens, Oxford. Petrakos, V.C. (1999), Ὁ δῆμος τοῦ Ραμνοῦντος. I. Τοπογραφία, Athens. Pirenne-Delforge, V. (2005), “Prêtres et prêtresses”, in: ThesCRA V, 3–31. Tracy, S.V. (1990), Attic Letter-Cutters of 229 to 86 B.C., Berkeley. Vanderpool, E. (1979), “The Genos Theoinidai Honors a Priestess of Nymphe”, in: AJPhil 100, 213– 216. Walbank, M. (2015), “Athens in 143/2 B.C. Three Decrees and a Diadikasia”, in: ZPE 193, 118–132. Zachhuber, J. (2018), “The Lost Priestesses of Rhodes? Female Religious Offices and Social Standing in Hellenistic Rhodes”, in: Kernos 31, 83–110.

Michael J. Osborne

Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period Abstract: It has become fashionable to characterize the Athenians as hostile to the integration of foreigners prior to the middle of the first century BCE, firstly because grants of citizenship by decree remained available only for very significant benefactors and secondly because ephebic service did not provide a pathway to citizenship. Both of these claims are debatable. In the case of grants of citizenship a major change in formulation and procedure was effected in or soon after 229, whereby recipients were no longer made Athenians but given citizenship, and the longstanding requirement of a second vote in the Assembly was supplanted by a dokimasia in a lawcourt. With some modifications in form rather than in substance these new provisions remained in place until the 130s. In practice grants of citizenship fall into two distinct categories – on the one hand essentially honorific grants to significant benefactors, on the other hand grants to petitioners who intended to implement them. With the exception of a few petitions for the re-affirmation of grants which had not been activated, inscribed decrees are for persons in the first category until (at latest) the mid 130s, when an instance of a petition, which is not for a re-affirmation, is attested. Thereafter numerous foreigners are evidenced as Athenian citizens, surely from the petitioner category. Unsurprisingly, as the foreign residents increased in numbers after 167, grants of enktesis in response to petitions also became more common. In the case of the ephebate, foreign members are attested by 123 and, given the nature of the training program, it is likely that such service provided a pathway, but not a ticket for automatic entry, to citizenship. The claim that no such connection can be entertained because none of the 109 foreigners known to have served as ephebes in the last years of the second century can be identified as citizens later is not supported by the available evidence.

In recent years a conservative, if not idealizing, view of the Athenian attitude to the granting of citizenship and the nature of the ephebate in the later Hellenistic period has become prevalent.1 The essential thesis is that Athenian citizenship, other than by birth, could only be granted by decree as a rare and prestigious honour for significant achievement, that the dates of sundry citizenship decrees in the 2nd century

 1 It is a pleasure and a privilege for me to break my promise of a silent retirement (again) to offer this modest contribution in honour of Vasileios Petrakos, a veritable giant in the field of Attic epigraphy and Hellenic scholarship. I am grateful to Peter Rhodes for critical comments, not all of which, perhaps unwisely, have been heeded. – Unless otherwise stated all dates are BC. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-008

  Michael J. Osborne need revision to illustrate this, and that the admission of foreigners to the ephebate, attested from 123/2, did not serve as a pathway to citizenship.2 The foundations for these assertions are far from secure.

 Grants of Citizenship from 229 Onwards As is generally accepted, a major change in the formulation of grants of citizenship to individuals,3 mirroring some innovations in procedure, was made in or soon after 229, surely as part of the reform program of Eurykleides and Mikion. It is difficult to establish the precise date for the inception of the change and to chart its subsequent modifications because in only three of the thirty preserved citizenship decrees after 229 is the name of the archon intact, and the exact location of one of these is slightly doubtful.4 In these circumstances the identification of cutters by Stephen Tracy is of invaluable assistance,5 but, in keeping with his own comments,6 some caution is necessary to avoid undue precision in the dating of texts where only a single instance is available or where the attribution is to a cutter described as working ‘in the style of’ or in the ‘school of’ a known practitioner.7 Citizenship decrees of the democratic period 286–262 embody two distinct procedural steps for implementation after the passage of the initial motion – firstly, a second vote in the first or next meeting of the Assembly, effected by way of a secret ballot immediately prior to the meeting,8 and then, provided that the second vote was favourable (ἐπειδὰν ἐπικυρωθῆι)9 a δοκιμασία, to be conducted by the thesmothetai in a lawcourt. In the years from the fall of Athens to Antigonos Gonatas to the regaining

 2 So Oliver 2007, 273–292; Oliver 2010, 158–167, arguing against the views of the present author in Naturalization. For similar sentiments cf. Perrin-Saminadayar 2005, 67–91; Müller 2014, 11; Miller 2014, 145–148. 3 Block grants are not treated here. 4 The decrees in question are IG II/III3 1.5.1265 (= D 96) archon Dionysios, probably 191/0 (but cf. Habicht 1982, 165–168); 1303 (= D 99) archon Hippias, 181/0; IG II2 979 + Add. p. 670 (= D 101) archon Mnesitheos, 155/4. The decree re-affirming a grant for Telesias of Trozen (IG II2 971 + SEG 36.175 [= D 102]) is from the year of the archon Hagnotheos (140/39), but is not included here because none of the granting clauses are preserved. 5 ALC passim. 6 Tracy 2009, 105–110. 7 In addition, the dating of decrees in IG II/III3 1.5 (covering the years 229–167) must be treated with due care, since individual texts, attributable to identifiable cutters, are assigned approximate dates by year within the known period of operation of the practitioner often without further explanation. 8 The process is described quite fully by Apollodoros ([Dem.] 59.89–90), Cf. Naturalization IV, 161– 164. 9 Cf. IG II/III3 1.4.875.

Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period  

of independence (262–229) only three citizenship decrees are attested10 and all have the provision for a second vote, but not that for a δοκιμασία.11 In the change in the formulation of citizenship decrees in or shortly after 229 a beneficiary was no longer made an Athenian (εἶναι αὐτὸν Ἀθηναῖον) but granted citizenship (δεδόσθαι αὐτῶι πολιτείαν) and this formulation persists until the cessation of the inscription of such decrees on stelai late in the 2nd century. In detail the new formulation can be divided into three (possibly four) successive Types, as follows: TYPE I 1. Statement of the grant and provision for enrolment into the relevant bodies (δεδόσθαι αὐτῶι πολιτείαν ...καί.... γράψασθαι φυλῆς κτλ.) 2. Thesmothetai to conduct a δοκιμασία (εἰσαγαγεῖν αὐτῶι τὴν δοκιμασίαν) TRANSITIONAL – TYPE I /TYPE II 1. Statement of the grant and provision for enrolment 2. Thesmothetai to εἰσαγαγεῖν αὐτῶι τὴν δοκιμασίαν καὶ δοῦναι περὶ αὐτοῦ τὴν ψῆφον TYPE II 1. Statement of the grant (δεδόσθαι αὐτῶι πολιτείαν δοκιμασθέντι ἐν τῶι δικαστηρίωι) 2. Thesmothetai to εἰσαγαγεῖν αὐτῶι τὴν δοκιμασίαν καὶ δοῦναι περὶ αὐτοῦ τὴν ψῆφον 3. Provision for enrolment TYPE III 1. Statement of grant (δεδόσθαι αὐτῶι πολιτείαν δοκιμασθέντι ἐν τῶι δικαστηρίωι) 2. Thesmothetai to εἰσαγαγεῖν αὐτῶι τὴν δοκιμασίαν 3. Provision for enrolment TYPE IV (?) see further below

 10 IG II/III3 1.4 1074 (= D 88); 1078 (= D 89); 1038 (= D 89 A). Cf. Osborne 2010, 128–134. Omitted from consideration is IG II/III3 1.4.1033 (ca. 255–230) which is a ratification of a decision of the demos of Athens in Lemnos. 11 The δοκιμασία is first attested in citizenship decrees in the brief democratic phase in 318, neglected thereafter until late 303/2, and evidenced in the democratic phases 295–294 and 286–262. Cf. Naturalization IV, 164–167; Feyel 2007, 28–38. According to Rhodes 1997, 52, the absence of reference to a δοκιμασία in the decrees attributed to the period 262–229 is simply an omission and does not signify that it had ceased to be a requirement. For the view adopted here cf. Osborne 2010, 128–134.

  Michael J. Osborne Tab. 1: Citizenship grants after 22912 Reference

Date (IG/SEG)

Cutter (ALC)

Date (MJO)

TYPE

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

/–/

ca. 

I

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

/–/

ca. –

I

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

incertus

(?)

I/II

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

/–/

post ca. 

I/II

IG II/III  (D )

/

/–/

/

II

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

/–/

ca. /

II

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 14

incertus

ca. 

II

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

/–/

pp. 

III

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

/–/

ca. 

III

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

/–/

–

III

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

incertus15

ca. 

III

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

incertus

ca. 

III

IG II/III  (D A)

ca. 

(Milesian cutter)

ca. 

III

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

/–/

–

III

IG II/III  (D B)

ca. 

/–/

–

III

IG II/III  (D )

ca. 

lost

–

III

IG II  (D )

/

/–/

/

III

IG II  (D )

fin. III

/–/

–

III

IG II  (D )

med. II

/–/

–

III

SEG . (D )

ca. 

/–/

–

III

IG II a (D )

p. med. II

/–/

–

III

IG II  (D )

in. II

/–/

–

III

IG II  (D )

ca. 17

unfamiliar

ca. 

III



















13

16

 12 The following are omitted: IG II/III3 1.5.1178 (= D 95) which is a block grant; 1215 (= D 119) which is unusually formulated and apparently grants citizenship to visiting theoroi from Ephesos and then to the Ephesians generally; also IG II/III3 1303 (= D 99); IG II2 988b (= D 115); and IG II2 987 (= D 116) where the granting formula is not preserved. 13 Surely close in time to IG II/III3 1.5.1265, given that in both the thesmothetai are instructed to εἰσαγαγεῖν τὴν δοκιμασίαν συννείμαντας – an unusual term, unprecedented in such decrees otherwise, suggesting an idiosyncrasy on the part of the proposer. 14 Cf. ALC 240, where the text is characterized as “unfamiliar/ school of ‘I 6006’” (169/8–135/4). So a somewhat later date is surely feasible. 15 Cf. ALC 227 n. 7 for this cutter, who was not from Attica. 16 Cf. ALC 254, attributing to the first half of the 2nd century. 17 Cf. ALC 241.

Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period  

Reference

Date (IG/SEG)

Cutter (ALC)

Date (MJO)

TYPE

IG II  (D )

? ca. 

unfamiliar

ca. 

III

Agora XVI  (D )

ca.–19

style –

–

IV A

IG II  + (D )

med. II

unavailable

ca. 

IV B





18

20

Obviously these are unpromising data, but some progress is possible. The detaching of the enrolment clause from the statement and setting it in its logical position after the procedural requirements is of no practical significance, but it reveals that the introduction of the Type II procedures preceded this change in formulation. The significant changes of practical importance are clearly, in order, the introduction of the δοκιμασία (Type I), the addition of the second vote (Type II) and the demitting of the second vote (Type III). In terms of dating Type III, which has the most examples, was introduced soon after 190 and remained standard until ca. 135 at the very latest.21 Type II is exemplified by five decrees, one of them certainly, another probably, dated to 191/0; of the other three two are transitional in formulation and so of an earlier date, one is of uncertain date. A lower date for this Type is thus shortly after 191/0, but an upper limit is difficult to ascertain, since only two Type I decrees are preserved, both dated ca. 210 by the editors of IG3, although one of them (IG II/III3 1.5.1219 = D 92) could be earlier, since it is the work of a cutter active in the years 224/3–188/7. In these circumstances the most that can be said is that, whereas the introduction of the new formulation of (and regulation for) citizenship grants (Type I) was surely an initiative of the democratic regime headed by Eurykleides and Mikion, the two preserved decrees of Type I are both somewhat later than 229 – the earliest the work of a cutter active from 224, the other that of a cutter whose known operations began in 210. Of the two transitional decrees, the date of one is obscure, that of the other can hardly be earlier than 210, the year of the first known text of the cutter’s long career. Given that the preserved examples of Type II decrees belong to the late 190s, the date of the change from Type I to Type II cannot be set any more precisely than at some point after ca. 210 and before the late 190s. The innovation of 229, or soon after, was certainly quite dramatic, since, whilst re-introducing the δοκιμασία, it dispensed with the second vote in the Assembly, an element of procedure in all regimes from early in the 4th century. In Type II decrees,  18 In ALC 241 the lettering is described as unfamiliar but suggestive of a date ca. 130, but the recipient is from a well-known Milesian family and a date of ca. 150 seems preferable. Cf. Herrmann 1987, 177. 19 Cf. SEG 14.73. 20 Discussed further below. 21 The upper limit is set by IG II/III3 1.5.1265 (D 96) which is Type II and dated by archon to 191/0 and IG II/III3 1.5.1283 (D 104) which is Type III and the work of a cutter active in the years 188/7–187/6; the lower limit is set by the work of a cutter active in the period 169/8–135/4 and responsible for no less than five citizenship decrees (most of his work before 135/4).

  Michael J. Osborne the second vote re-appears, but no longer as an action of the Assembly; rather it is entrusted to the thesmothetai in addition to the δοκιμασία. In Type III decrees, the second vote is no longer a requirement. A possible explanation for this seemingly puzzling pattern of development may be the following. In the reform of 229 or soon after, it was decided to re-introduce the δοκιμασία but to dispense with the unwieldy process of a second vote in the Assembly (where it was doubtless increasingly difficult to find a quorum)22 and to subsume it in an expanded brief for the thesmothetai. At first the drafters of decrees took this at face value and noted only the requirement for (an expanded) δοκιμασία, but subsequently it was felt necessary to specify that the requirement of a second vote was still in force, but that it was now conducted in a lawcourt rather than in the Assembly. Clearly the record of such a second vote was in real terms a formality and from ca. 190 (with the change to Type III) it is no longer mentioned. Contrary to this scenario, it has been argued by Miller that the re-introduction of the δοκιμασία in or soon after 229 was designed to ‘increase the standards for getting citizenship’.23 But, leaving aside the consideration that grants in the previous 30 years had been unusually rare,24 the re-introduction of the δοκιμασία was surely a reversion to what had become democratic practice and the abolition of the second vote in the Assembly was, if anything, an easing of requirements. The term ‘standards for getting citizenship’ is also somewhat surprising, since it implies a situation where the recipients were petitioners who were seeking to acquire and implement grants of citizenship, rather than recipients of a highly regarded honour, as almost all grantees were until late in the 2nd century. Miller envisages the thesmothetai holding two separate meetings, one for the δοκιμασία, and another for the second vote. But, if the dikasts approved the grant in the δοκιμασία, it is hard to see why they should convene again to vote on the issue for a second time. In this regard it may be relevant that many of the decrees provide for the thesmothetai to act even if the prospective beneficiary is not present. The desirability of the presence of a candidate if he was in Athens would be understandable for a δοκιμασία, but hardly for the second vote. In Type I and III decrees, the term καὶ μὴ παρόντι is attached to the δοκιμασία but in decrees of Type II and the transitional Type I/II the term is linked to the second vote – εἰσαγαγεῖν τὴν δοκιμασίαν … καὶ δοῦναι περὶ αὐτοῦ τὴν ψῆφον καὶ μὴ παρόντος (as, for example, in IG II/III3 1.5.1265). This surely refers to the whole process, where the court is to do two things, not to a δοκιμασία without the presence of the beneficiary followed by a vote in his presence.

 22 For an increasingly apathetic Assembly after the 280s cf. Rhodes 1972, 223; Osborne 2016, 259. 23 Miller 2014, 145; contra Naturalization I, 22f. 194; Osborne 2010–13, 74f. n. 33. 24 Apart from the three known decrees, only three likely honorands, all significant figures, can be added from the literary sources, viz. Herakleitos of Argos, the tragic poet; Sokrates of Rhodes, the flautist; and Chrysippos of Soloi, the philosopher (Naturalization III, T96. T98. T99).

Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period  

Late in the second century, two fragments seem to exhibit highly abbreviated formulations, suggesting that there was a Type IV.

. Agora XVI 316 (= D 121) This has been restored to give the following text:25 [δεδόσθαι] [δὲ αὐτῶι καὶ πολιτείαν δοκιμασθ]έντι ἐν τῶι δικα[στηρίωι] [κατὰ τὸν νόμον· ἵνα δὲ καὶ ὑπόμνημα] ὑπάρχηι τῆ[ς - - - - ]

It has been suggested by Alan S. Henry26 that the clauses providing for the δοκιμασία and the enrolment could have followed later in the text, but this would be without precedent in decrees post 229, where the elements are always in a block, and a preferable alternative is that it reflects a more economical formulation (Type IV A) making a reference to the standing law but not setting out in detail the relevant procedures.27 The fragment was dated ‘soon after 140’ by the present author (ad D 121) and subsequently by Stephen Tracy to a cutter working in the style of a practitioner whose known working life spans the years ca. 135–123/2.28 So a date in the 130s is surely acceptable. According to Graham Oliver, however, this fragment can be dated to ca. 130 and it does not represent a new, truncated formulation because the decree for Menestheus of Miletos (IG II2 982 = D 113), which has the regular Type III components, should be re-dated to ca. 130 also; indeed according to Sean Byrne it is the last preserved citizenship decree.29 In support of his view, Oliver cites the comment of Tracy, who describes the cutter of IG II2 982 as ‘unfamiliar’ and the lettering as suggestive of a date around 130,30 but he fails to mention that Tracy also notes the strong case on prosopographical grounds for a date of ca. 150 argued by Peter Herrmann.31 Given that Menestheus was active in the 160s, assisting in the escape of Demetrios, son of Seleukos IV, from Rome in 162 (Polybios 31.13.2), that no other citizenship decree is attested later than 135 at the very latest (i.e. beyond the working life of a cutter active in the period 169/8–135/4), and that Tracy’s attribution cannot afford precision, a date as late as ca. 130, synchronous with or even later than Agora XVI 316 (D 121) is unjustified.  25 For the restoration cf. SEG 14.73. 26 Henry 1983, 88. 155. 27 Cf. Naturalization II, 198. 28 ALC 176. 29 Oliver 2007, 285f.; cf. Byrne 2003, 7 n. 19. 30 ALC 241. 31 Herrmann 1987, 177 n. 20. So too Wilhelm 1912, 423.

  Michael J. Osborne

. IG II2 984 + Osborne 2013, 130f. (D 122) As suggested by the present author, the relevant clause in this decree should be restored as follows:32 [ - - δεδόσθαι] δὲ αὐτῶι καὶ π[ολιτείαν αἰτησαμέ]νωι κατὰ τὸν νόμο[ν - - - -

Decrees in response to aiteseis for citizenship in Athens are sporadically attested from as early as the 4th century, but almost exclusively they are for re-affirmations of a grant to the petitioner or to one of his ancestors,33 and in 140/39 the decree for Telesias of Trozen is an example of the latter.34 The date of IG II2 984 is not easy to determine – the stone was not seen by Johannes Kirchner and was unavailable to Tracy,35 but, given the truncated formulation and the consideration that it is an aitesis, which is not for a re-affirmation of a previous grant, a date in the 130s may be suggested.36 In short, it seems likely that an abbreviated formulation for grants, which may be styled Type IV, is briefly attested in the 130s immediately prior to the cessation of the inscription of such grants. The decision to no longer inscribe was perhaps made in the face of an increasing number of requests for citizenship from the rapidly growing foreign component of the population, and such requests, unlike publicly awarded grants, did not seem to warrant commemoration on stone at public expense. There is no doubt that publicly awarded grants could still be made, but no evidence is available to indicate whether or not they continued to be inscribed.37 The chronology of the changes from 229 to ca. 130 can only be approximate, but may be summarized as follows:38 – TYPE I ca. 229 or soon after – 210/late 190s – TYPE II ca. 210/ late 190s – early 180s – TYPE III early 180s – mid 130s

 32 Earlier editors had restored a grant of proxenia, but aitesis in pursuance of proxenia alone would be without precedent in Athens. Cf. Osborne 2013, 130f. 33 Cf. Osborne 2013, 131f. 34 IG II2 971 (D 102) where Telesias seeks re-affirmation in his favour of a grant made to an ancestor on the motion of Stratokles of Diomeia at least 160 years earlier. 35 ALC 12. 36 The formulation αἰτησαμένωι κατὰ τὸν νόμον appears also in grants of enktesis in the second half of the 2nd century. See further below. 37 The latest possible date for decrees of Type III would seem to be ca. 135, the year of the last known instance of work on the part of a prolific cutter active in the period 169/8–135/4 (ALC 146–162). 38 This supersedes the account provided in Naturalization I, 196 and the supplement in Osborne 2010–13, 74–78.

Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period  

– –

TYPE IV mid 130s (briefly) Cessation of inscription: ca. 130 or soon after

 The Dual Nature of Grants of Citizenship in the Late Hellenistic Period According to Oliver, “access to Athenian citizenship was not liberalized in the second century and the grant of citizenship was not more readily awarded from the third quarter of the second century. Athenian citizenship could be obtained only by birth or by a grant … it continued to be awarded in a way that maintained its value throughout the Hellenistic Period.”39 These assertions embody something of an ambiguity in respect of grants by decree. For there were in practice two distinct categories of grant – on the one hand public awards to benefactors primarily as honours, where the initiative was not that of the prospective recipient and where a desire for implementation was absent, or at least not uppermost; and on the other hand petitions (aiteseis) where the initiative was that of the prospective beneficiary, whose express intention was the implementation of the grant. Except in the case of re-affirmations of grants already made but not implemented, only one possible instance of a successful petition is known prior to the 130s,40 when there is an instance to a petitioner αἰτησαμένωι κατὰ τὸν νόμον.41 Thereafter the growing evidence for foreigners who had implemented grants of citizenship strongly suggests an increase in the number of grants via aitesis. Oliver’s comments on the continued awarding of citizenship solely as a prestigious honour for exceptional achievement seem readily applicable only to the first category of grantees, although his characterization of the grounds for such grants as exceptional is surely slightly hyperbolic, as may be illustrated by his example of Menippos of Kolophon as a significant achiever. The grant to Menippos is recorded at the beginning of a long citation of his numerous diplomatic activities in relation to the Attalids and Rome on a statue base from the temple of Apollo in Klaros, and is described by Oliver as ‘a sign of significant achievement’ and ‘strong evidence of the prestige attached to the award of Athenian citizenship’.42 The relevant portion of the citation reads as follows:

 39 Oliver 2007, 280. 40 The grant to Strombichos in 266/5 (IG II/III3 1.4.918 & 919 = D 78) – but, given that he was honoured for impressive achievements and that two stelai were decreed, it is possible that still higher honours, which required an aitesis (for which cf. Osborne 2012, 71f.) were recorded in the lost lower part of the monument. 41 IG II2 984 (discussed above). 42 Oliver 2007, 285.

  Michael J. Osborne SEG 39.1244 = Robert/Robert 1989, 63–104.

5

10

… ἐπιτελέσας δὲ ταύτας κα[ὶ τ]οῦ πέμψαντος δήμου καὶ τῆς μητροπόλεως ἀξίως ἐπέμεινε τοῖς ἀρίστοις συνδιατρίβων καθηγηταῖς. δοὺς δὲ δεῖγμα τὸ κάλλιστον τοῦ βίου καὶ τῆς παιδείας ἧς μετέλαβεν αὐτῆι πρῶτον τῆι μεταδούσηι πόλει τῆς ἀξίας ἔτυχεν ἐπισημασίας παρ᾽ αὐτοῖς Ἀθηναίοις στεφανωθεὶς καὶ πολίτης κατὰ ψήφισμα γενόμενος, καὶ τῆς ὅλης παρεπιδημίας τὴν καθήκουσαν λαβὼν μαρτυρίαν. παραγενηθεὶς δὲ ἀπὸ τῆς σχολῆς ἀκόλουθον ἑαυτὸν τοῖς προειρημένοις εὐθὺς ἐγ νέου παρέσχετο πρεσβεύων τε καὶ συμβουλεύων τὰ κράτιστα καὶ φιλοτιμίας οὐθενὸς λειπόμενος τῶν πολιτῶν…

The citation is generally assigned to a date ‘after 120/119’, but the sojourn of Menippos in Athens clearly belongs much earlier, certainly somewhat before ca. 130.43 The text makes it clear that Menippos was quite young when he went to Athens and, given that his grant of citizenship is cited by Oliver as proof of the need for ‘significant achievement’ for such an award, it is pertinent to enquire what suitably impressive achievement on the part of Menippos provided the rationale. The general pattern in the second century before the 130s was for grants to be made to royalty, royal officials, distinguished diplomats, major benefactors and outstanding scholars,44 and it is hard to see the student Menippos falling into any of these categories. However, as suggested by the original editors, Menippos surely came to Athens as a theoros, and the Athenians did occasionally, but not always,45 award citizenship to such envoys post 229. Thus, for example, a decree of ca. 210 (IG II/III3 1.5.1215) records firstly honours for the demos of Ephesos, comprising a gold crown and proclamation thereof at the Dionysia, and then an award of a crown of myrtle and a grant of citizenship for the theoroi who are present. Again in ca. 170 in an Athenian decree known from a Milesian copy46 the demos of Miletos is praised and the architheoros and the theoroi, who have travelled to Athens, are awarded gold crowns and citizenship.47 This suggests

 43 His embassies to the Attalids must pre-date 133, when the kingdom was bequeathed to Rome. Habicht 1997a, 289f. sets his time in Athens in the middle of the century. 44 See Naturalization IV, 220f. for a list. 45 Cf. IG II/III3 1.5.1170. 46 IG II/III3 1.5.1390. 47 The architheoros, Hermophantos, had been honoured as one of a team of theoroi a few years earlier (IG II/III3 1.5.1372). Unfortunately, in that decree the stone breaks after the award of a crown, so that it is not possible to determine whether the theoroi also received citizenship on that occasion. If they did, Hermophantos will have been given citizenship twice.

Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period  

that grants of citizenship to certain groups of theoroi had become something of a routine matter, and the known cases do not cite any specific contributions on their part over and above their theoric duties. In such circumstances it seems inescapable that Menippos received his grant of citizenship not for some outstanding achievement but qua youthful theoros. In fact, the citation clearly implies that Menippos’ diplomatic career took off after his return from studies in Athens.48 More generally, Oliver’s view does not seem to allow for the possibility that, whereas grants for achievement (real, expected or confected) undoubtedly continued to be made after ca. 130, petitions for citizenship surely became more common, indeed in all probability prevalent. Thus Byrne was able to identify more than 20 Romans with Athenian citizenship in the years 130–60.49 Quite apart from these cases there is, of course, the explicit testimony of Cicero (Pro Balbo 12.30) that he had seen, presumably when he was in Athens in 79, sundry Romans serving in offices which were restricted to Athenian citizens: vidi egomet non nullos imperitos homines, nostros civis, Athenis in numero iudicum atque Areopagitarum, certa tribu certo numero, cum ignorarent, si illam civitatem essent adepti, hanc se perdidisse nisi postliminio reciperassent. These men clearly resided in Athens and, unlike most grantees in the first category, had fully implemented their Athenian citizenship; indeed, membership of the Areopagos, as noted by Christian Habicht,50 would mean that those concerned had held office as archons. This evidence is simply dismissed by Oliver,51 but it seems perfectly plausible in a context where Athens had become an international centre with a rapidly expanding population of foreigners, many of them wealthy and cultured. The concentration on Romans as naturalized Athenians is understandable since, unlike most other migrants, they are more readily identifiable by their names, but it is important to keep in mind that they constituted very much a minority of the foreign

 48 A similar career pattern is attested in the similarly eulogistic and roughly contemporary citation for Polemaios of Kolophon, where strong attention is given to his early education in Rhodes and Smyrna (SEG 39.1243). 49 Byrne 2003, 6; cf. Kapetanopoulos 1981, 23–36. Five of these were ephebes with Athenian demotics from the years 123/2, 119/8 and 107/6 (IG II2 1006. 1008. 1011) certifying that their fathers were already enrolled as Athenian citizens, and it is highly unlikely that all (indeed any) of these acquired citizenship for outstanding achievement, given the dearth of honorific grants to Romans generally in the 2nd century, and given that, unlike most grantees in the first category, they had implemented their citizenship. 50 Habicht 1997b, 14. 51 Oliver 2007, 289, who writes: “Habicht has suggested that Cicero’s Pro Balbo already suggests that some Roman citizens were serving at Athens qua Athenian citizens in local magistracies, but as yet the evidence examined by Byrne does not support this idea”(my italics). The notion that what Cicero states that he saw with his own eyes is just an ‘idea’ that needs modern authentication is certainly a novel one.

  Michael J. Osborne population of Athens in the late 2nd century, as, for instance, is clear from the preserved ephebic lists.52 Examples of naturalized non-Romans are thus not easy to find other than in a few celebrated cases, where it is difficult to determine whether the grants were awards for genuine benefaction or as the result of successful petitions based on wealth and connections. Thus Timarchos, son of Simalos, of Salamis in Cyprus appears in the Athenian ephebic list of 107/6 as Τίμαρχος Σιμάλου Φλυεύς.53 The family was prominent in Salamis and his grandfather had been made a proxenos of Athens in ca. 180.54 Timarchos must have inherited his citizenship from his father or grandfather, since he was already a member of a deme when he became an ephebe.55 Again, the brothers Heliodoros and Dies, described as Tyrians in a Delian ephebic dedication of 104/3,56 appear as Athenians in a list a couple of years later.57 They established themselves as wealthy citizens in Athens and in 88, when Athenion returned from his visit to Mithridates, he came εἰς τὴν Διέυς οἰκίαν τοῦ τότε πλουτοῦντος ἀνθρώπου.58 Finally, there is the grant to Apellikon of Teos.59 This bibliophile – and ἀρχαιοκαπηλός, who stole documents from the Metroon – was certainly made a citizen before his disastrous expedition to Delos in 88/7 and his promoter was undoubtedly Athenion, but whether a genuine benefaction was involved is surely doubtful. The available evidence is obviously slender, but it seems reasonable to conclude that, whereas grants of citizenship for significant benefaction or achievement were always possible, the scope for such awards was much reduced by the late 2nd century, so that they became rare; petitions on the part of foreign residents desiring to implement Athenian citizenship on the other hand became increasingly common, as the foreign component of the population expanded. In the case of citizenship by birth the growing evidence for the children of mixed marriages as Athenian citizens clearly represents a liberalizing trend. The date of the breakdown of the Periklean law is much disputed – it was placed as early as the last

 52 A mere 14 Romans from a total foreign complement of some 109 in the preserved lists from the last quarter of the second century. See Table 2 below. 53 IG II2 1011.101. 54 IG II/III3 1.5.1375. Cf. Habicht 1992, 80f. 55 In these circumstances the common belief that Σίμαλος Σιμάλου Ταράντιν(ος) who served as an ephebe in Athens in 102/1 (IG II2 1028.145) is the brother of Timarchos must be abandoned. For the family, see Baslez 1994, 27–37. (= SEG 45.2309; cf. 115. 116. 194). 56 IDèlos 2599. 57 IDèlos 2595. For the circumstances of their late addition to this list cf. Dow 1942, 312 n. 10. 58 Athenaios (= Poseidonios) 212 d. 59 Athenaios (= Poseidonios) 214 d.

Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period  

quarter of the 3rd century by Niku,60 in ca. 125 by Habicht61, and denied altogether by Eric Perrin-Saminadayar.62 Oliver has now noted a surge of mixed marriages in the 2nd century,63 and this is surely quite intelligible in the context of the expansion of the foreign component of the population in the years after 167, although it remains obscure whether this change was effected by law or benign neglect.

 The Admission of Foreigners to the Ephebate Oliver has argued that service in the ephebate on the part of foreigners in the late 2nd century was not a pathway to citizenship and that any liberalization in respect of grants of citizenship should be located in about the middle of the 1st century.64 In this he follows Perrin-Saminadayar, who sees the opening up of the ephebate to foreigners as a central feature of the Athenian policy of attracting rich and cultured ξένοι to the city after the transformation of Delos, albeit on a highly exclusive basis.65 In support of his view Oliver notes, citing Byrne,66 that there are no examples of foreign ephebes identifiable as citizens subsequently in the 1st century and concludes that ‘any connection between the admission of foreigners to the ephebeia and the opening up of Athenian citizenship in the last half of the 2nd century must be abandoned.’67 This conclusion does not seem to me to be soundly based. The relevant ephebic decrees preserved from 123/2 to 101/0 where foreigners are listed are as follows:68

 60 Niku 2007. Cf. Ogden 1996, 81, dating it to 229 and linking it to the change in the laws regarding naturalization. This is disputed by Miller 2014, 145, who asserts (astonishingly) that “it is hard to understand a connection between marriage laws and the recovery of the Peiraieus, which is the basis of Osborne’s dating” (!). Such a connection patently was not made by the present author; obviously the change in citizenship law was due to the legislative activities of Eurykleides and Mikion who were pre-eminent in Athens after the regaining of independence. 61 Habicht 2000a, 443. 62 Perrin-Saminadayar 2005, 82. 63 Oliver 2010, 161–164. 64 Cf. n. 2 above. 65 Perrin-Saminadayar 2005, 81f. 66 Byrne 2003, 11 n. 33. 67 Oliver 2007, 287. So too Miller 2014, 146; Müller 2014, 11 n. 58. 68 For refinements of this list, see especially Pélékidis 1962, 184; Follet 1988, 21–24 (= SEG 38.278).

  Michael J. Osborne Tab. 2: Athenian Ephebes 123/2–101/0 Reference

Date

ΞΕΝΟΙ

Athenians

IG II  +  +

/

 ( Romans)

ca. 

SEG .

ca. 





IG II 

/

 ( Roman)



IG II 

/

 ( Romans)



IG II 

/

 ( Romans)



IG II  + Tracy

/

 ( + Romans)



 ( Romans)

ca. 





() –. (Total)

Records and lists relating to public office are the obvious areas to search for foreign ephebes who became citizens, and service as a bouleutes would be a good indicator of participation because of the large numbers involved. Ephebes, of course, would only become eligible to become bouleutai at least twelve years after ephebic service, so that the quest for examples from the 109 known ephebes serving between ca. 123 and 101 would need to concentrate on the years after ca. 112.69 The total number of bouleutai known from then until the middle of the 1st century is 130, many of the names too fragmentary for restoration.70 These are obviously quite inadequate numbers from which to draw conclusions about the absence of known foreign ephebes serving later as bouleutai – for the number of bouleutai serving in the 62 years from 112 to ca. 50 will have been some 37,200. By the middle of the 1st century, of course, numerous Romans can be found as naturalized Athenians – for examples, the three bouleutai in ca. 50 already noted,71 and the magistrates Δέκμος Αὐφίδιος (60/59) and Πόπλιος Οὔφριος (59/8)72 –and after ca. 50 the numbers increase.73 The conclusion surely is that, given the tiny number of preserved names, the lack of identifiable foreign ephebes as citizens subsequently cannot be taken to certify Oliver’s assertion that ‘any connection between the admission of foreigners to the

 69 Identification is, of course, made difficult by the fact that only 14 have Roman names, whereas most of the others have names that are commonly held also by Athenian citizens. 70 The preserved prytany decrees, mostly fragmentary, from 104/3 to ca. 50 are Agora XV 256 (6). 257 (6). 258 (6). 261 (11). 264 (14). 265 (1). 267 (18). 268 (1). 269/270 (1). 271 (1). 272 (14 – of which 2 are naturalized Romans, viz. Μάνιος Βράκκιος Χολλείδης and [Μ]άνιος Μανίου [Λεωντίδος]). 273 (22 – of which one is a naturalized Roman, viz. Μάρκος Κορνήλιος Φαληρεύς). 275 (9). 278 (29). 71 See n. 70 above. 72 IG II2 1716.18. 20. 73 Thus in Agora XV 299+285+ Byrne 2003, 1–4, dated ca. 50–30, no less than six of the 23 prytaneis whose names are preserved appear to be Romans.

Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period  

ephebate and opening up of citizenship in the last half of the second century must be abandonned’.74 It is certainly true that by the middle of the 1st century numerous Romans were acquiring Athenian citizenship, but before this most foreign ephebes were not Romans, and since their names are frequently common in Athens, they cannot easily be identified. In these circumstances the possibility that ephebic service was a pathway to citizenship for the sons of wealthy foreigners remains plausible. It is, of course, not the case that ephebic service automatically conferred citizenship, as was argued by Habicht,75 since foreign participants are listed as ξένοι after their year of service, but this does not preclude the possibility of such service facilitating an aitesis. In this regard it should be noted that the ephebic program was, as noted by Oscar William Reinmuth,76 very much designed for the training of Athenian citizens. The text of the decree for 123/2 is very informative in this regard: ἐπειδὴ διὰ παντὸς ὁ δῆμος τὴν πλείστην σπουδ[ὴν ποι]εῖται τῆς τῶν ἐφή/βων ἀγωγῆς καὶ εὐταξίας βουλόμενος το[ὺ]ς ἐκ τῶν πα[ί]δων μεταβαίνοντας εἰς τοὺς ἄνδρας ἀγαθοὺς γίνεσθαι τὴς πατρίδος διαδ[ό]/χους καὶ προσέταξεν διὰ τῶν νόμω[ν] τ[ῆ]ς τε χώρας κα[ὶ] τῶν φρουρίων καὶ τῶν ὁρίων τῆς Ἀττικῆς ἐμπείρους γίνεσθαι ἔν τε τοῖς ὅπλοις / τὴν εἰς πόλεμον ἀνήκουσαν ἄσκησι[ν ποεῖ]σθαι ………77

From this it is clear that military training with an Attic flavour was still an important feature of ephebic service and that it was not, as often suggested, neglected in favour of philosophy. If foreign visitors of ephebic age wanted a purely educational experience they could have gone rather to the philosophical schools, as apparently Menippos of Kolophon had done.78

 Grants of enktesis in the Late Hellenistic Period The steady influx of foreigners into Athens after 167 undoubtedly was accompanied by growing pressure for grants of enktesis by petitioners, and the preserved decrees provide an interesting pattern of development.79

 74 Oliver 2007, 287. 75 Habicht 1997a, 188; Habicht 2000a, 123; Habicht 2000b, 443. 76 Reinmuth 1948, 220f. 77 IG II2 1006. 52–5. For similar sentiments cf. IG II2 1028 + Tracy 1975, 22f. (101/0). 78 See further Pleket 2011, 523. 79 For the intricacies of the formula for grants of enktesis cf. Pečírka 1966; Henry 1983.

  Michael J. Osborne Tab. 3: Grants of enktesis in the late Hellenistic Period (P = Proxenos; E = Euergetes; γ =γῆς; ο=οἰκίας; κτν =κατὰ τὸν νόμον) Reference (IG II/III)

Date

Prox

Enkt

Value stated

δοκιμασία

Aitesis

..

/

P

γ/ο

No

No

No

..

–?

PE

γ/ο

No

No

No

..

–

P

γ/ο

No

No

No

..

/

Isoteleia

ο

Yes

Yes

Yes

..

ca. 

[–]

γ/ο

κτν

Yes

Yes

..

ca. –

P

γ/ο

Yes

Yes

Yes

..

–

PE

γ/ο

Yes

Yes

Yes

..

–

PE

ο/[γ]

Yes

Yes

Yes

..

pp /

P

γ/ο

Yes

No

No

..

pp /

PE

γ/ο

Yes

No

No

..

ca. 

PE

γ/ο

Yes

No

No

..

ca. 

PE

γ/ο

κτν

No

No

.. I

ca. –81

P

γ/ο

Yes

Yes

[?]

..

(?) s82

PE

γ/ο

No

No

Yes

IG II 

/–/

P

γ/ο

No

No

Yes

Agora XVI 84

ca. 

[–]

γ/ο

No

No

[Yes]



80

83

 80 Cf. ALC 239, suggesting that a later date is possible. 81 It must postdate 190/89, the date of Decree II on this stele, and sit within the working life of the cutter (204/3–164/3). 82 Daly 2007 was inclined to date this fragmentary decree for Eukleidas of Rhodes to ca. 200, when Rhodian envoys were in Athens along with Attalos I and representatives from Rome (cf. Polybios 16.26) although he acknowledged that a later date was possible. So too the editors of IG II/III3. The cutter can be identified as one active in the period 203–163, and a date in the 160s seems more likely – firstly, the grant is the result of an aitesis, which would be highly improbable in the case of a visiting diplomat; secondly, the formula for the grant is otherwise only attested from the 160s. Obviously the exact circumstances must remain obscure, but the turbulent relations between Rome and Rhodes and the attendant factionalism in Rhodes in and after 168 might provide a suitable occasion for such a request for residence in Athens. For the relations between Rome and Rhodes in the first half of the 2nd century cf. Gruen 1975, 58–81. 83 For the date cf. ALC 148. 84 SEG 19.104. 24.140.

Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period  

In the democratic phase 286–262, only three certain cases of grants of enktesis are attested and no restrictions are recorded.85 In the following years of Macedonian control (262–229) five decrees are known, and all record a value for the house and (with one exception) the land,86 and the added requirement of a δοκιμασία. All are grants in response to an aitesis.87 After 229, only eight decrees awarding enktesis are preserved. Of these three are from the 160s or later and all simply record without further elaboration a grant of enktesis in response to a lawful aitesis (δεδόσθαι αὐτῶι καὶ γῆς καὶ οἰκίας ἔγκτησιν αἰτησαμένωι κατὰ τὸν νόμον). Given the steep rise in foreign residents in Athens from 167 onwards and the likely glut of petitions for residential rights, a simplified process is surely understandable – and, as noted above, by the 130s a similar situation is evidenced in the case of citizenship decrees. The situation in the period 229 to the mid-160s is puzzling. The four earliest decrees, all from the last quarter of the 3rd century, record values for the house and land (in three cases explicitly stated, in the fourth covered by the qualification κατὰ τοὺς νόμους), but no requirement for a δοκιμασία. The remaining decree, however, is seemingly anomalous. It is (part of) the first of two decrees on a stele inscribed by a cutter active in the period 203/2–164/3, and it records a stated value for house and land and also the requirement for a δοκιμασία. As has been clarified by Habicht,88 the first decree (Decree I) is for Apollonides, son of Theophilos (I), of Pergamon, the second (Decree II) dated to 190/89 (archon Achaios) is for his father, Theophilos (I), who had been influential and helpful to Athens at the court of Eumenes II. The reasons for the grant of enktesis to Apollonides are lost, and in a Delian text of ca. 150 (IDélos 1554) he is styled Ἀπολλων[ίδην Θεοφίλ]ου Ἁλαιέα, certifying that he was later granted Athenian citizenship, as apparently was his brother, Theophilos (II).89 Decree I shows that Apollonides was not an Athenian citizen at the time of its passing and it clearly implies that Decree II had not granted citizenship to his father. So Apollonides and Theophilos (II) did not inherit Athenian citizenship, but were granted it in their own right towards the middle of the 2nd century. The grant of enktesis to Apollonides in Decree I is the sole instance post 229 where reference to a δοκιμασία is made. It has been argued that an explanation for this seeming anomaly is that the requirement of a δοκιμασία was

 85 Omitted is IG II/III3 1.4.936, where the restoration of a grant of enktesis is far from certain. 86 In IG II/III3 1.4.1037 this is probably encompassed by the qualification κατὰ τὸν νόμον. 87 In IG II/III3 1.4.1037 this is specifically noted in the text – [καθότι ἐν τῆι αἰ]τήσει γ[έ]γραπται. In IG II/III3 1.4.989, 1037, and 1077 it is certified by the probouleumatic formula (cf. Osborne 2013, 128). In IG II/III3 1041 the phrase normally employed in the probouleumatic formula is, uniquely, attached to the δοκιμασία clause – surely by misplacement. 88 Habicht 1990, 565–567 = SEG 40.102. The account in Naturalization (T117) can be disregarded, since it was based on the then accepted date of 166/5 for the archon Achaios, who is now dated 190/89. Cf. Tracy 1984, 43f. 89 Cf. SEG 14.127 (ca. 150) – an Athenian dedication to him as σύντροφος of Attalos II, describing him as [Θε]όφιλον Θ[εοφίλου Ἁλ]αιέ[α].

  Michael J. Osborne retained post 229, but not always recorded, so that the decree for Apollonides simply records the fuller version.90 An alternative and more complicated possibility, which does not require belief in the haphazard recording of procedural details in public decrees,91 is that the δοκιμασία of grants of enktesis was originally introduced in respect of aiteseis and that from 229 it was kept for such petitions, but not for genuine awards. In this case the grant to Apollonides would have been in respect of a successful aitesis, and this might explain why he had inscribed on his stele, and hence publicized, the decree honouring his father, Theophilos (I) for assistance to Athens in the past.

 Conclusions From 167 onwards, after the acquisition of Delos, Athens became increasingly cosmopolitan and over time became more open in its attitude to foreign residents. By the middle of the 1st century naturalization of resident foreigners was relatively common, and this process seems to have had its inception in the last decades of the 2nd century. It is improbable that all, or even most, of these new citizens were recipients of grants for signal benefaction or achievement; rather some process of aitesis undoubtedly was available. Within such a context service in the ephebate, with its strong emphasis on citizen values, may well have become a significant pathway (but not an automatic ticket of entry) to citizenship for the sons of wealthy and cultured foreigners.

Bibliography ALC = S.V. Tracy (1990), Attic Letter-Cutters of 229–86, Berkeley. Baslez, M.-F. (1994), “The Families of Lysias and Simalos of Salamis”, in: Ktema 19, 27–37. Byrne, S. (2003), “Early Roman Athenians”, in: D. Jordan/J. Traill (eds.), Lettered Attica. A Day of Epigraphy, Toronto, 1–20. D = Decree in Naturalization I (up-dated by Osborne 2010–13, 53–78) Daly, K. (2007), “Two Inscriptions from the Athenian Agora”, in: Hesperia 76, 539–554. Dow, S. (1942), “A Leader of the Anti-Roman Party in Athens in 88 B.C.”, in: CPhil 37, 311–314. Feyel, Chr. (2007), “La dokimasia des nouveaux citoyens dans les cités grecques”, in: Rev. Ét. Grec. 120,19–49.

 90 Cf. Rhodes 1997, 38. 51f. 91 On which matter generally cf. Naturalization IV, 168–170. In the case here it would surely be a misuse of epigraphical evidence to argue that, since a δοκιμασία is attested in a single decree that postdates 185, its absence in four decrees bunched in the last quarter of the 3rd century should not be taken to signify that it was not a requirement at that time.

Notes on Athenian Decrees in the Later Hellenistic Period  

Follet, S. (1988), “Ephèbes étrangers à Athènes”, in: Cahiers du Centre d’études Chypriotes 9, 19– 32. Gruen, E. (1975), “Rome and Rhodes in the Second Century B.C. A Historiographical Inquiry”, in: CQ 25, 58–81. Habicht, Chr. (1982), Studien zur Geschichte Athens in Hellenistischer Zeit, Hypomnemata 73, Göttingen. Habicht, Chr. (1990), “Athens and the Attalids in the Second Century B.C.”, in: Hesperia 59, 561–577 = Habicht, Chr. (1994), Athen in Hellenistischer Zeit, München, 183–201. Habicht, Chr. (1992), “Athens and the Ptolemies”, in: Cl. Ant. 11, 68–90 = Habicht, Chr. (1994), Athen in Hellenistischer Zeit, München, 140–163. Habicht, Chr. (1997a), Athens from Alexander to Antony, Cambridge, Mass. Habicht, Chr. (1997b), “Roman Citizens in Athens”, in: M. Hoff/S. Rotroff (eds.), The Romanization of Athens, Oxford, 9–17. Habicht, Chr. (2000a), “Athenian Citizens with Foreign Names”, in: Πρακτικά της Ακαδημίας Αθηνών 72, 435–447. Habicht, Chr. (2000b), “Foreign Names in Athenian Nomenclature”, in: E. Matthews/S. Hornblower (eds.), Greek Personal Names: Their Value as Evidence, PBA 104, Oxford, 119–127. Henry, A.S. (1983), Honours and Privileges in Athenian Decrees, Hildesheim. Herrmann, P. (1987), “Milesier am Seleukidenhof: Prosopographische Beiträge zur Geschichte Milets im 2. Jhd. v. Chr.”, in: Chiron 17, 171–192. Kapetanopoulos, E. (1981), “Romanitas and the Athenian Prytaneis”, in: AE 1981 Chron., 23–36. Miller, J. (2014), “Epigraphical Evidence for Citizenship in Third-Century B.C. Athens”, in: ZPE 191, 141–150. Müller, Chr. (2014), (De)constructing Politeia: Reflections on Citizenship and the Bestowal of Privileges upon Foreigners in Hellenistic Democracies, Les Annales, Histoire, Sciences Sociales, Cambridge. Naturalization I–IV = Osborne, M.J. (I 1981; II 1982; III–IV 1983), Naturalization in Athens, Brussels. Niku, M. (2007), The Official Status of the Foreign Residents in Athens 322–120 B.C., Helsinki. Ogden, D. (1996), Greek Bastardy in the Classical and Hellenistic Periods, Oxford. Oliver, G.J. (2007), “Citizenship: Inscribed Honours for Individuals in Classical and Hellenistic Athens”, in: J.-C. Couvenhes/S. Milanezi (eds.), Individus, groups, et politique à Athènes de Solon à Mithridate, Tours, 273–292. Oliver, G.J. (2010), “Foreign Names, Inter-Marriage and Citizenship in Hellenistic Athens”, in: R. Catling/F. Marchand (eds.), Onomatologos: Studies in Greek Personal Names Presented to Elaine Matthews, Oxford, 158–167. Osborne, M.J. (2010), “Adnotatiunculae Epigraphicae”, in: G. Reger/F. Ryan/T. Winters (eds.), Studies in Greek Epigraphy and History in Honor of Stephen V. Tracy, Bordeaux, 123–134. Osborne, M.J. (2010–13), “Additions (real and imagined) to the Corpus of Athenian Citizenship Decrees”, in: Horos 22–25, 53–78. Osborne, M.J. (2012), Athens in the Third Century B.C., Athens. Osborne, M.J. (2013), “Aitesis, Proxenia and Politeia in Later Hellenistic Athens”, in: ZPE 185, 127– 136. Osborne, M.J. (2016), “The Changing Face of Athenian Government (403/2–168/7)”, in: Hyperboreus 22, 240–262. Pečírka, J. (1966), The Formula for the Grant of Enktesis in Attic Inscriptions, Prague. Pélékidis, Chr. (1963), Histoire de l’éphébie attique, Paris. Perrin-Saminadayar, E. (2005), “Images, statut et accueil des étrangers à Athènes à l’époque hellénistique”, in: D. Nourisson/Y. Perrin (eds.), Barbares et étrangers, Saint-Etienne, 67–91.

  Michael J. Osborne Pleket, H.W. (2011), “ Éducation, culture et société à Athènes. Les acteurs de la vie culturelle athénienne (299–88): un tout petit monde”, in: Mnemosyne 64 (2011) 523–526. Reinmuth, O.W. (1948), “The Ephebate and Citizenship in Attica”, in: TAPA 79, 211–231. Rhodes, P.J. (1972), The Athenian Boule, Oxford. Rhodes, P.J. (1997), The Decrees of the Greek States (with D.M. Lewis), Oxford. Robert, J./Robert, L (1989), Claros I. Decrets Hellénistiques, Paris. Tracy, S.V. (1975), The Lettering of an Athenian Mason, Hesperia Suppl. 15, Princeton. Tracy, S.V. (1984), “The Date of the Athenian Archon Achaios”, in: AJAH 9, 43–47. Tracy, S.V. (2009), “Dating by Lettering in Greek Epigraphy: General Styles and Individual Hands”, in: A. Martinez Fernandez (ed.), Estudios de Epigrafia Griega, La Laguna, 105–110. Wilhelm, A. (1912), “Prosopographische Bemerkungen”, in: WS 34, 411–427.

Angelos Chaniotis

“Those Who Jointly Built the City” Epigraphic Sources for the Urban Development of Aphrodisias Abstract: Fifteen honorific inscriptions for members of the elite in Aphrodisias refer to their descent from ‘those who jointly built (συνεκτικότες, συνκτίσαντες) the city (πόλις), the fatherland (πατρίς), or the community (δῆμος)’. This honorific formula, only found in Aphrodisias, is used from the late first century BCE to the early third century CE. It refers to the material process of construction, turning Aphrodisias into an urban center, which must have taken place sometime between the mid-second and the early first centuries. It is not clear whether the ‘jointly building the city’ can be associated with the laying out of the grid that occupies the area from the theater to the stadium, or refers to the joining of a small settlement near the sanctuary of Aphrodite with other neighboring communities and their transformation into an urban center. The most plausible explanation for the action that later inscriptions describe as ‘jointly building the city’ is the organization of an epidosis, during which citizens or whole families promised to contribute amounts of money, either for general purposes or for specific buildings. Here it must have involved an extensive building plan, large sums, and the commitment of families to contribute to the building project in the future. A list of names inscribed on two orthostat blocks that today form the east wall of the Temple of Aphrodite may be the list of the men who promised to jointly build Aphrodisias.

It is with great pleasure that I dedicate this study to Vasileios Petrakos, in acknowledgment of his contributions to the study of Greek epigraphy and archaeology. It is thanks to his research that the Athenian demos of Rhamnous has emerged as an important paradigm of a settlement in the Attic countryside. The similarities between Rhamnous and Aphrodisias are superficial: they both hosted an important sanctuary and they both served as garrison sites.1 But their greatest similarity is in the history of

 1 The personal names used in Aphrodisias in the late Hellenistic and Imperial periods by the descendants of the first settlers include characteristic Macedonian names, such as Amyntas, Attinas, and Makedon, and Iranian names such as Atrapates, Mithradates, Mithrodates, Nardos, and Pharnakes. The personal names suggest the settlement of Seleucid soldiers of Macedonian, Iranian, and other origins. For these names see the references in LGPN Vb. The name Odatis found in a late Hellenistic inscription from the vicinity of Plarasa (SEG XLIV 865) also attests the presence of Iranian settlers in this area. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-009

  Angelos Chaniotis their research. If we are in a position to understand them as settlements and to reconstruct their histories, it is owing to the close cooperation between field archaeology and epigraphy. In many cities of Asia Minor in the late Hellenistic and Imperial periods we encounter families with a distinguished, hereditary social status, often connected with a privileged position in public life. Aphrodisias is no exception. Here, too, we find references to ‘first citizens’ (πρῶτοι πολῖται), members of the ‘first class’ (πρώτη τάξις) and the ‘first families’ (προτεῦον or πρῶτον γένος), and those of the ‘foremost status’ (πρωτεῦον ἀξίωμα).2 In every city in the Hellenistic and Roman East the status and social prestige of an individual was enhanced through the services that had been provided by his or her ancestors. Aphrodisias is no exception in this regard either.3 Exceptional in the case of Aphrodisias is only the fact that from the late Hellenistic period on, the honorific inscriptions for members of the elite refer to their descent from ancestors who are characterized as ‘those who jointly built (συνεκτικότες, συνκτίσαντες) the city (πόλις), the fatherland (πατρίς), or the community (δῆμος)’. This honorific formula is used in several variations from the late 1st century BCE to the early 3rd century CE, e.g. ‘descendant of ancestors who jointly built the demos’, ‘descendant of ancestors who were among the first citizens and those who jointly built the city’, and ‘descending from one of the first families and those that jointly built the fatherland’ (see Appendix). Joyce Reynolds, who first collected this evidence, associated this ‘Founders’ Kin’ with the unification of Plarasa and Aphrodisias into one community.4 In a brief discussion of this formulation in 2004, I concluded, following Reynolds: “The use of the verb synktizein may express exactly this joint effort in the formation of a new community. Neither the date of the unification of the two communities is known nor its nature (sympoliteia or synoikismos) is clear”.5 A re-examination of the formulation – making use of both the archaeological record and the now more extensive epigraphic evidence for building projects in Aphrodisias –may suggest a different interpretation. Let me start with what we can say with some certainty. This formula refers to the material process of constructing Aphrodisias as an urban center, not the process of founding a community. In all variants of the formula, one element never changes: the action in question is always referred to as συνκτίζειν, not as συνοικίζειν. Since all the

 2 Chaniotis 2004, 381. 3 References to πρόγονοι: e.g., IAph2007 1.171a; 1.187; 11.508; 12.21; 12.22; 12.104; 12.306; 12.308; 12.312. 4 Reynolds 1982, 164; cf. Robert 1966, 425. 5 Chaniotis 2004, 382.

“Those Who Jointly Built the City”  

men who were honored as κτίσται in Aphrodisias were honored because they sponsored building works,6 συνκτίζειν must refer to the process of constructing a city, not establishing a community. It is also clear that the ‘Co-Builders’ were not honored for individual services. The verb συν-κτίζω denotes the participation in a collaborative project, not an individual service; the ancestors of the people who were honored with this honorific expression were part of a collective effort. Furthermore, those ‘who jointly built the city’ were not only individuals but also families, since the relevant inscriptions do not only refer to πρόγονοι but also to γένη. Finally, the standardization of this expression and its use for certain families suggests that the Aphrodisians knew exactly which families belonged to this group. Several questions emerge from these considerations and beg an answer: When did the action that is described as ‘to have jointly built the city’ take place? In what form did individuals and families participate in this action? And how were the names of those ‘who jointly built the city’ known? Answering these questions is a difficult task, because the number of inscriptions from the second or early 1st century BCE, that is, the period in which we may place the ‘joint construction of the city’, is very limited. For the first question we do have a reliable clue. The earliest attestation of this formula is found in an inscription of the late 1st century BCE, the posthumous honorific inscription for Hermogenes (figure 1).7 The exact date of the inscription is not known, but the honoree’s contribution to the city in difficult times (LL. 13f.: εἰς πολλὰς δὲ πρεσβήας καὶ ἀνανκαιοτάτας | [πρ]οχειρισθεὶς καὶ εἰς ἀγῶνας) and his dealings with provincial governors and the Roman authorities (LL. 16f.: παρά τε | ταῖς ἐξουσίαις καὶ τοῖς ἡγουμένοις) place his floruit in the troubled years of the Late Republic and certainly before the reign of Augustus, i.e. in ca. 50–30 BCE. The text states that those who jointly built the city were his πρόγονοι (LL. 4f.: προγόνων ὑπαρχόντων τῶν μεγίστων καὶ συνεκτικότων τὸν δῆμον). If we take this formulation literally, we may assume that the ‘joint building of the demos’ had taken place at least two generations earlier, certainly not in Hermogenes’ lifetime. We can, therefore, place the action designated as συνκτίζειν τὸν δῆμον/τὴν πόλιν sometime between the mid-second and the early first century. It is unlikely that it is connected with construction work after the sack and looting of Aphrodisias by the troops of Labienus in 40 BCE.8

 6 Ktistai in Aphrodisias (late 1st century BCE to early 1st century CE): Hermogenes: SEG LIV 1020; Adrastos Hierax: IAph2007 12.308; Zelos I: IAph2007 8.84; Zelos II: IAph2007 12.709 and 14.18; Antiochos and his ancestors: IAph2007 12.35. 7 Chaniotis 2004, 378–386 no. 1; SEG LIV 1020. 8 Reynolds 1982, no. 12; IAph2007 8.31.

  Angelos Chaniotis

Fig. 1: Honorific inscription for Hermogenes, SEG LIV 1020. Photo: Author.

One is tempted to associate the phrase ‘jointly building the city’ with the laying out of a grid that occupies the area from the theater to the stadium (figure 2). Only a terminus ante quem can be determined for this process: the grid was in place before the construction of one of the porticos of the agora in the late 1st century BCE.9 But the ‘jointly building the city’ may be connected with the transformation of a small preexisting settlement near the sanctuary of Aphrodite into an urban center, joining it with other neighboring communities (Plarasa, Gordiou Teichos, Plyara).

 9 Eren 2016, who prefers a date in the mid- or late 1st century BCE.

“Those Who Jointly Built the City”  

Fig. 2: Plan of Aphrodisias. Aphrodisias Archive/New York University.

Both developments, which may themselves be connected, presuppose deliberations, planning, and decisions about the budget. Unless royal support was involved, the standard procedure followed by Hellenistic cities was to organize a subscription, an

  Angelos Chaniotis epidosis.10 The authorities called an assembly and invited the citizens to promise (ὑπόσχομαι, ἐπιδίδωμι, ἐπαγγέλλομαι) to give money. The names of the sponsors were inscribed; sometimes also the names of those who promised and did not give were inscribed, in order to shame them.11 Therefore, the most plausible explanation for the action that later inscriptions describe as ‘jointly building the city’ is the organization of an epidosis, during which citizens or whole families promised to contribute certain amounts of money, either for general purposes or for specific buildings. If an epidosis did take place in Aphrodisias in the second or, less likely, in the 1st century BCE, it must have been of such an extraordinary scale that it was commemorated by the descendants of the sponsors decades and even centuries later. It must have involved not only an extensive building plan, but also large sums and the commitment of families to contribute to the building project in the future. In an epidosis of such a scale, one would expect that the names of the sponsors were inscribed in a list. Their descendants would thus have been able to refer to this list decades later. A list of names inscribed in three columns on two orthostate blocks that today form the east wall of the Temple of Aphrodite (figures 3 and 4) may well be this list of the men who promised to jointly build Aphrodisias. The list was erased in Late Antiquity, when the temple was converted to a church and the blocks were reused.12 The surfaces of the blocks were chipped in order to receive a plaster surface. The first column of names is almost completely lost, but most of the names in the second and third columns can be read; the palaeography suggests a date in the 2nd century BCE.13 Among the men listed in the three columns we find bearers of names that reappear in the families of the descendants of the synktisantes: Adrastos, Andronikos, Artemidoros, Diogenes, Dionysios, Hierax, Hypsikles, Leon, Menandros, Menestheus, Myon, and Zenon. Since a heading is not preserved and no amounts of money are written next to the names, as one would expect in a typical epidosis list, we cannot be certain about the nature of this list of men. Additionally, most of the names are quite common; therefore, the assumption that these men are in fact the  10 Migeotte 1992 remains the standard work of reference. 11 See more recently Chaniotis 2012; Ellis-Evans 2012. 12 Sitz 2019, 156f. 13 This inscription was studied by Reynolds in 1978, but has not been published yet and was not included in IAph2007. It is ‘Temple 4’ in her catalogue of unpublished inscriptions. I have studied the text on several occasions, together with the members of the epigraphic team Dr. Alexander Free (University of Munich), Dr. Florian Forster (University of Frankfurt), Georgios Tsolakis (New York University and Benjamin Wieland (University of Freiburg). I provide a list of the names that can be read: Ἄδραστος Διονυσίου, Ἀπολλώνιος Ἀνδρονείκου, Ἀπολλώνιος Ἡραίου, Ἀπολλώνιος Περικλέους, Ἀπολλώνιος Ξένωνος, Ἀρτεμίδωρος Ἀπολλωνίου, Ζήνων Μηνάνδρου, Ἡλιόδωρος Μενεσθέως, Ἵεραξ Πυθοδώρου, Κάλλιππος Ἀδράστου, Κάλλιππος Πανκράτους, Λέων Ξηνοκράτους, Λέων Λέωνος, Μύων Ἀπολλωνίου, Ξενοκράτης Ξενοκράτου, Ὑψικλῆς Ἀδράστου, and the sons of Ἀγροίτας, Ἀντίπατρος, Διογένης, Κάλιππος, Περικλῆς, and Πυθόδωρος.

“Those Who Jointly Built the City”  

synktisantes, the men who promised to contribute the funds for the building of Aphrodisias, must remain a speculation.

Fig. 3: Orthostate block on the east wall of the Temple of Aphrodite inscribed with a list of names and erased in Late Antiquity. Photo: Author.

  Angelos Chaniotis

Fig. 4: Detail of the erased list of names on an orthostate block on the east wall of the Temple of Aphrodite. Photo: Author.

But there are other indications that support the assumption that ‘jointly building the city’ was an epidosis. We do not have any datable building inscriptions from the preAugustan period, when Zoilos, a freedman of Augustus and a local political leader, initiated the construction of the theater and a new temple for Aphrodite,14 but the numerous inscriptions that concern building projects from the late 1st century BCE to the late 2nd century CE consistently show a pattern that is very similar to that which I described above: first, the funding of building projects was publicly announced in the form of an epangelia or a hyposchesis – it was a public commitment made in the assembly;15 second, the cost for the construction of a building or a building complex was shared by several persons – it was truly a process of synktizein; and thirdly, the families and the descendants of those who first provided funds for a building continued to feel responsible for it decades later, usually sponsoring restorations.

 14 On Zoilos’ career and services, see Smith 1993, 4–13 (with a collection of the testimonia, to which one can now add SEG LIV 1023). 15 E.g. IAph2007 1.109; 4.201; 8.52; 11.104; 11.401; 12.204.

“Those Who Jointly Built the City”  

A few selected examples demonstrate this. The Sebasteion is Aphrodisias’ best studied building (figure 5).16 As Bert Smith has recently shown, this expensive project was undertaken by two families, who divided between them the expenses involved. When the construction started, under Tiberius (14–37 CE), Myon Eusebes Philopatris, his brother Menandros, and his wife (and niece) Apphias paid for the Propylon and the North Building, while Attalos, his wife Attalis, and his brother Diogenes were responsible for the Temple and the South Building.17 According to the inscription on the South Building, the funds were provided on the basis of an epangelia, a commitment, publicly made in the assembly.18

Fig. 5: The Sebasteion of Aphrodisias (South Building, Propylon, and North Building). Photo: Author (2018).

Three of these sponsors are known also as sponsors of other buildings, all of them in the same district of Aphrodisias. Myon Eusebes Philopatris funded the temple of Zeus

 16 Smith 2013 with the earlier bibliography. 17 Propylon: SEG LXIII 843–844. North Building: SEG LXIII 845–846. South Building: SEG LXIII 847– 848. Temple: SEG LXIII 849 (with unpublished restorations); an unpublished inscription honoring Diogenes, son of Menandros, mentions its construction: τὸ γεινόμενον ὑπ᾽ αὐτοῦ Σεβαστεῖον Ἡρακλεῖον ἐντεμενιζόμενον λευκολίθῳ ναῷ̣ καὶ περιστύλῳ ποικίλῳ καὶ κόσμ̣ος τῆς πολέως ἐστίν. 18 SEG LXIII 848: ἃ ἐπηνγείλατο Διογένης, ὁ πατὴ[ρ α]ὐτοῦ.

  Angelos Chaniotis Patroios and Zeus Spaloxios (figure 6)19 and the Baths of the Gerousia (figure 7).20 Attalis’ bequest was used for the construction of baths west of the city park known as ‘Place of Palms’ in antiquity, and previously known as the ‘South Agora’.21 As for Diogenes, he provided funds also for the construction of the so-called Portico of Tiberius, i.e. the north portico of the city park.22 Either he or his homonymous son may have constructed the gymnasium called Diogenianon, possibly located near the baths constructed with Attalis’ money (IAph2007 12.1111).

Fig. 6: Lintel of a shrine of Zeus Patroios and Zeus Spaloxios with a dedicatory inscription (early 1st cent. CE), SEG LX 1079. Photo: Author.

Fig. 7: Honorific inscription for Myon Eusebes Philopatris mentioning the construction of the Baths of the Gerousia, (early 1st cent. CE). Photo: Aphrodisias Archive/New York University.

 19 Chaniotis 2010, 245 no. 5; SEG LX 1079. 20 Chaniotis 2018. 21 Attalis’ bequest: IAph2007 5.6: καὶ ἐκ τῶν Ἀτταλίδος τῆς Μενεκράτους χρημάτων. 22 IAph2007 4.4. The construction of this stoa is mentioned in an unpublished inscription honoring him: τὴν πρὸ τοῦ Διὸς στοὰν ... ἐκ τῶν ἰδίων μετὰ πολλῶν ἀναλωμάτων κατασκευάσας.

“Those Who Jointly Built the City”  

When the North and South Buildings of the Sebasteion were damaged by earthquakes in the mid-1st century CE, restorations were necessary. They were funded by members of exactly the same families. Apphias, now a widow, and her grandchildren restored the North Building, while Attalis, also now a widow, and the son of Diogenes, Tib. Claudius Diogenes, restored the South Building.23 Another jointly funded project is the theater. The stage (logeion and proskenion) was funded by C. Iulius Zoilus during the reign of Augustus (IAph2007 8.1), the buttresses, stairways, and seats were funded from the estate of Aristokles Molossos in the early 1st century CE (IAph2007 8.108; cf. 8.111 and 112). Further construction of the seats was sponsored by M. Ulpius Carminius Claudianus (SEG LVIII 1151), probably during the reign of Hadrian;24 the columns, revetment of the walls, and floor were paid for by Tib. Claudius Zelos under Antoninus Pius (IAph2007 8.85), and further veneering of the wall of the orchestra was paid for by Menestheus Skopas in the early 3rd century (IAph2007 8.115). We observe the same pattern in the construction of the Baths during the reign of Hadrian.25 The funding came from various sources: the bequest of the aforementioned Attalis, the sponsor of the Sebasteion (see note 21), and money provided by members of two families mentioned in fragmentary inscriptions. The members of the first family used the names Eudamos, Zenon, Kallias, and Apphion (IAph2007 5.9), while the members of the second family used the names Archimedes and Euphron (figure 8).26 Both families sponsored the building by making a public commitment (hyposchesis).27 It is also probable that building material from the baths of the gerousia funded by Myon Eusebes, another sponsor of the Sebasteion, was used for the Baths of Hadrian.28 References to bequests (money left by sponsors of buildings) in inscriptions reveal the long-term engagement of families in building projects.

 23 North Building: SEG LXIII 845–846. South Building: SEG LXIII 848. 24 On the date of Carminius Claudianus, see Pont 2008. 25 On the construction of the baths, see Wilson 2016. 26 Inscription found in 2017. Fragment of a marble revetment plaque; broken on left and bottom; cut in antiquity for reuse in the baths (height 72 cm, width 35 cm, depth 5 cm, letter-height 3.5–4 cm). I present the text, which will be published in a forthcoming volume on epigraphic research in Aphrodisias: [- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -] [- - - - - - - - - - - - - Θεᾷ Ἀφροδίτῃ καὶ Αὐτοκράτορι Καίσαρι Σεβαστῷ] [Θεoῦ Τραϊαν]οῦ Παρθικοῦ υἱῷ Θεοῦ Νε[ρούα υἱωνῷ Τραϊανῷ Ἁδριανῷ] [- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Ἀ]ρχιμήδους, δὶς ἀρχιερέ̣ [ως - - - - - - - - - - - - -] [- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -δ]ώρου τοῦ Εὔφρονος Εὔφρο̣ [νος?- - - - - - - - - -] 4 [- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ἀ]ν̣ εψιοῦ καὶ κατὰ τὴν ἡ̣[μετέραν ὑπόσχεσιν?] 27 IAph2007 5.9: [ὑπέ]σχετο τὸ ἀλειπτήριον; note 26: κατὰ τὴν ἡ̣[μετέραν ὑπόσχεσιν]. 28 IAph2007 5.6: καὶ ἐκ τῆς ὕλης τοῦ Εὐσεβιανοῦ βαλανείου.

  Angelos Chaniotis

Fig. 8: Fragment of a building inscription mentioning sponsors of the Baths, unpublished. Photo: Author.

Finally, the making of a public commitment (epangelia or hyposchesis) was the standard process for the construction of buildings and the dedication of statues.29 For instance, the building of the aleipterion of the baths under Hadrian (see note 27), the construction and decoration of the shrine of Zeus Nineudios during the Flavian period (IAph2007 11.104), the construction of a sacrificial facility and a banqueting room in the sanctuary of Aphrodite by Adrastos Attalos under Hadrian (IAph2007 12.26), and the walling of the orchestra of the theater by Menestheus Skopas under Caracalla (IAph2007 8.115) were all the result of publicly made commitments (καθὰ ὑπέσχετο). The survey of the existing evidence does not solve the puzzle of Aphrodisias’ early history, but it permits some cautious suggestions. The people who in inscriptions are called ‘those who jointly built the city’ must have been people who made substantial monetary contributions for the construction of the urban center of Aphrodisias. This must have occurred in the second or early 1st century BCE, but we cannot determine the exact date. The fact that this contribution was remembered and commemorated for centuries in a manner unparalleled in any other city suggests that this must have been a large scale and long-term commitment involving great sums of money and the property of both individuals and their families. It most likely took the form of a public subscription (epidosis). One would be tempted to associate this action with the layout of the urban center as a ‘grid city’, but this assumption cannot yet be confirmed by the archaeological evidence. What we can tell with certainty is that the construction of the urban center of Aphrodisias started as a collaborative project in the second or early 1st century BCE and continued as such in the 1st and 2nd centuries CE. It was based on the long-term

 29 E.g. IAph2007 1.109; 8.52; 11.401; 12.204.

“Those Who Jointly Built the City”  

commitment of wealthy families and contributed to the social prestige of their descendants for centuries. The making of Aphrodisias truly was a process of synktizein.30

Appendix: Inscriptions Referring to Those Who Jointly Built the City 1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

6.

7.

8.

9.

προγόνων ὑπαρχόντων τῶν μεγίστων καὶ συνεκτικότων τὸν δῆμον (‘descending from ancestors who were among the greatest and those who jointly built the demos’): SEG LIV 1020 (Hermogenes Theodotos, son of Hephaistion, late 1st cent. BCE). προγόνων ὑπάρχοντας ... συνεκτικότων τὸν δῆμον (‘descendant of ancestors who jointly built the demos’): IAph2007 12.905 (Artemon, son of Andron, 1st cent. BCE/CE). γένους πρώτου καὶ συνεκτικότος τὴν πατρίδα (‘descending from one of the first families and those that jointly built the fatherland’): IAph2007 12.5 (Ammia, daughter of Attalos, son of Pytheas, 1st cent. CE). γένους πρώτου καὶ συνεκτικότος τὴν πατρίδα (‘descendant of one of the first families and those that jointly built the fatherland)’: IAph2007 12.3 (Neikotimos Hierax, son of Artemidoros, son of Zenon,1st cent. CE). γένους πρώτου καὶ συνεκτικότος τὴν πατρίδα (‘descendant of one of the first families and those that jointly built the fatherland’): IAph2007 12.4 (Adrastos Hierax, son of Neikoteimos, son of Artemidoros, son of Zenon, 1st cent. CE). γένους πρώτου καὶ συνεκτικότος τὴν πατρίδα (‘descendant of one of the first families and those that jointly built the fatherland’): IAph2007 12.706 (Aristokles Molossos, son of Aristokles, son of Artemidoros, ca. 50 CE). γένους πρώτου καὶ ἐνδοξοτάτου καὶ συνεκτικότος τὴν πατρίδα (‘descendant of one of the first and most glorious families and those that jointly built the fatherland’): IAph2007 12.1006 (Iason Prabreas, son of Menodotos, son of Menandros, ca. 50 CE). προγόνων ὑπάρχουσα τῶν πρώτων καὶ συνεκτικότων τὴν πόλιν (‘descendant of ancestors who were among the first citizens and those who jointly built the city’): IAph2007 12.205 (Tatia Attalis, daughter of Hypsikles Hierax, son of Adrastos, son of Neikoteimos, son of Artemidoros, son of Zenon, late 1st cent. CE). γένους πρώτου καὶ ἐπισημοτάτου καὶ συνεκτικότος τὴν πόλιν (‘descendant of one of the first and most prominent families and one of those that jointly built the

 30 I am very grateful to Dr. Matthew Peebles (Columbia University) for correcting my English. My research at Aphrodisias in 2016–2019 was supported by the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation (Anneliese Maier Award).

  Angelos Chaniotis

10.

11.

12.

13.

14.

15.

16.

17.

city’): IAph2007 12.306 (Apphia, daughter of Menestheus, son of Eumachos, 1st/2nd cent. CE). γένους πρώτου καὶ συνεκτικότος τὴν πόλιν (‘descendant of one of the first families and those that jointly built the city’): IAph2007 12.306 (Hermias Glykon, son of Hermias, son of Phanias, 1st/2nd cent. CE). προγόνων ... εὐεργετηκότων καὶ συνεκτικότων τὴν πατρίδα (‘descending from ancestors who were benefactors and among those who jointly built the fatherland’): IAph2007 15.262 (Ti. Flavius Apollinaris, son of Menippos, 1st/2nd cent. CE). ἀπόγονον τῶν συνεκτικότων τὴν πόλιν (‘descendant of those who jointly built the city’): IAph2007 11.508i (Myon, son of Peritas Myon, son of Adrastos, son of Dionysios, son of Adrastos, son of Molon, ca. 100 CE). γένους πρώτου καὶ λαμπροῦ καὶ συνεκτικότος τὴν πατρίδα (‘descendant of one of the first and illustrious families and one of those that jointly built the fatherland’): IAph2007 12.29a, c (Attalos, son of Pytheas, and Diodoros, son of Leon, adopted son of Diodoros, late 2nd cent. CE). [ἀπόγονον? ... τῶν συγκτισά]ντων τὴν [πόλιν/πατρίδα?] (‘descendant ... of those who jointly built the city/fatherland’): IAph2007 13.205 (Iulius Charidemos, late 2nd cent. CE). γένους πρώτου καὶ συνεκτικότος τὴν πόλιν (‘descendant of one of the first families and those that jointly built the city’): IAph2007 13.6 (Pyrrhos Papias, son of Pyrrhos, son of Zenon, son of Pyrrhos, 2nd/3rd cent. CE). προγόνων τῶν συνκτισάντων τὴν πόλιν (‘descendant of ancestors who jointly built the city’): IAph2007 5.10 (M. Antonius Popillius Andronikos Flavianos, son of Agelaos, early 3rd cent. CE). προγόνων τῶν συνκτισάντων τὴν πόλιν (‘descendant of ancestors who jointly built the city’): IAph2007 1.187 (anonymous woman, daughter of [- -]lianos, descendant of Diogenes Hypselos, ca. 230 CE).

References Chaniotis, A. (2004), “New Inscriptions from Aphrodisias (1995–2001)”, in: AJA 108, 377–416. Chaniotis, A. (2010), “Aphrodite’s Rivals: Devotion to Local and Other Gods at Aphrodisias”, in: Cahiers du Centre Gustave Glotz 21, 25–48. Chaniotis, A. (2012), “Public Subscriptions and Loans as Social Capital in the Hellenistic City: Reciprocity, Performance, Commemoration”, in: P. Martzavou/N. Papazarkadas (eds.), The Epigraphy of the Post-Classical City, Oxford, 89–106. Chaniotis, A. (2018), “Myon, a True Ktistes: A New Inscription from Aphrodisias and Its Context”, in: C. M. Draycott/R. Raja/K. Welch/W. T. Wootton (eds.), Visual Histories of the Classical World: Essays in Honour of R. R. R. Smith, Turnhout, 449–58. Ellis-Evans, A. (2012), “The Ideology of Public Subscriptions”, in: P. Martzavou/N. Papazarkadas (eds.), The Epigraphy of the Post-Classical City, Oxford, 107–21.

“Those Who Jointly Built the City”  

Eren, K. (2016), “The Chronology of the Early City and Its Grid: Excavations of 2011–12”, in: R.R.R. Smith et al. (eds.), Aphrodisias Papers V: Excavations and Research at Aphrodisias, 2006– 2016, Journal of Roman Archaeology Suppl. 103, Portsmouth, 157–67. Migeotte, L. (1992), Les souscriptions publiques dans les cités grecques. Quebec/Geneva. Pont, A.-V. (2008), “L’inscription en l’honneur de M. Ulpius Carminius Claudianus à Aphrodisias (CIG, 2782)”, in: Cahiers du Centre Gustave Glotz 19, 219–45. Reynolds, J. (1982), Aphrodisias and Rome, London. Robert, L. (1966), “Inscriptions d’Aphrodisias”, in: L’Antiquité Classique 35, 377–23. Sitz, A. (2019), “Hiding in Plain Sight: Epigraphic Reuse in the Temple-Church at Aphrodisias”, in: Journal of Late Antiquity 12, 136–68. Smith, R.R.R. (1993), The Monument of C. Julius Zoilos, Mainz. Smith, R.R.R. (2013), The Marble Reliefs from the Julio-Claudian Sebasteion, Darmstadt. Wilson, A. (2016), “The Olympian (Hadrianic) Baths: Layout, Operation, and Financing”, in: R.R.R. Smith et al. (eds.), Aphrodisias Papers V: Excavations and Research at Aphrodisias, 2006– 2016, Journal of Roman Archaeology Suppl. 103, Portsmouth, 168–94.

| Part II: Archaeology

Joseph Maran

Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone Abstract: The present contribution argues against the until-recently repeated claim that silver was neither produced nor used in the Aegean until the 3rd millennium BC, or at least considerably later in the 4th millennium BC than in West Asia. Even if societies in the Aegean and Southeastern Europe had very different political and economic structures than those of the Near and Middle East, the extraction, processing and use of silver seems to have begun in all these regions at about the same time. Thus, in the Aegean the use of this precious metal can be traced back to the early 4th millennium BC and possibly even earlier, and the same holds true for certain areas of the Carpatho-Balkan zone. In the last decades, especially evidence of the earliest phase of silver mining and extraction in the Aegean has dramatically increased, with the argentiferous lead ore deposits of Lavrion, Siphnos and Thasos that would later come to dominate silver production in classical Greece impressively emerging as major sources already in the earliest phase of producing silver. The reluctance to accept the use and production of silver in the Aegean prior to 3000 BC was based on a combination of diffusionist and evolutionist preconceptions. The first preconception lies in the assumption that technological innovations were developed in one particular region and transferred from there unidirectionally to surrounding areas. The second derives from the notion that diachronic changes in societies can be modelled into discrete stages of unilinear technological progression, in which the potential for innovation is tied to the degree of a given society’s “complexity”. It is here argued that the unidirectional model of diffusionism must be replaced by a multidirectional, dialogical model in which the geographic area between the Carpathian Basin and the Balkans in the northwest and the Iranian highlands in the southeast would have to be perceived as an interaction sphere consisting of many sub-zones, in which knowledge and practices travelled in various directions.

 Vasileios Petrakos has vastly improved our knowledge of the diachronic history and culture of the landscape of Attica through his research. I have learned a great deal from him and, with this contribution, would like to express my gratitude and pay him my respects for all that he has achieved.

https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-010

  Joseph Maran

 The Underestimated Significance of Pre-Bronze Age Silver Metallurgy in Southeastern Europe As is well known, thanks to the mining activities in Lavrion, Attica was an extremely important region in classical antiquity for the production of silver, a resource of considerable importance for the polis of Athens. Yet, the extent to which the extraction of silver and its use in the manufacture of objects may antedate ca. 3000 BC, the beginning of the Aegean Bronze Age, is as contested an issue in the case of Attica, as it is for the rest of Greece and Southeastern Europe. The present contribution will demonstrate that the until-recently repeated claim that silver was produced and used in the Aegean only from the beginning of the 3rd millennium BC1 is incorrect. Instead, the use of this precious metal in the Aegean, which is located at the interface of Europe and Asia, can be traced deep into the Chalcolithic period, and, as we shall see, the same holds true for certain areas of the Carpatho-Balkan zone. As will become clear, the exploitation of the lead/silver ore deposits in Attica seems to have already been playing a special role in this early phase of the metal’s use. In recent decades, evidence that the extraction and exploitation of silver can be dated back to the 4th millennium BC has emerged in various areas of western Eurasia2. Particularly noteworthy are the significant signs of the production and use of silver in the Iranian Highlands3 with further evidence coming from the Northern Caucasus (the so-called Maikop phase),4 the Levant, Northern Mesopotamia and Eastern Anatolia.5 In at least some of these regions, the use of the precious metal can be traced back to the first half of the 4th millennium BC, albeit only tentative evidence exists of its use in the 5th millennium BC.6

 1 Renfrew 1967, 4–6; Branigan 1968; 1974, 90–96: Pernicka 1990, 57; 2014, 457; Primas 1995, 78–82; 1996, 109f.; but see Muhly 1985, 112; 2002, 78; 2006, 157; 2008, 72; McGeehan Liritzis 1996, 233; Zachos 1996; 2007, 180; 2010, 88–90; Maran 2000; Kassianidou/Knapp 2005, 226f.; Reinholdt 2008, 54–58; Tzachili 2008, 10; Ottaway/Roberts 2008, 198; Roberts et al. 2009, 1015; Popescu 2013, 70f.; Mehofer 2014, 471f.; Alram-Stern 2014, 318f. who have argued in favor of pre-Bronze Age silver metallurgy in the Aegean. I would like to thank Borislav Borislavov, Krisztina Lovas, Maria Pantelidou-Gofa, Ildikó Szathmári, László Szende, Gábor Tomka and Hristina Vălčanova for generously helping me to gain access to images reproduced in this article. Special thanks also go to Adele Bill, Fotis Ifantidis, Stylianos Perrakis and Naama Yahalom-Mack for help and information. I am greatly indebted to Maria Kostoula for preparing and redrawing illustrations included in the article. I wish to thank Irina Oryshkevich (New York) for the careful language-editing of this article. 2 Kassianidou/Knapp 2005, 226f.; Roberts et al. 2009, 1015; Popescu 2013; Pernicka 2014, 457; Hansen/Helwing 2016. 3 Nezafati/Pernicka 2012; Helwing 2014, 415; Hansen/Helwing 2016, 43–45. 4 Hansen 2009, 31–33; 2014a; Ivanova 2013, 90; Hansen/Helwing 2016, 48f.; Courcier 2014, 615–622. 5 Prag 1978; Philip/Rehren 1996; Hess et al. 1998; Pernicka et al. 1998; Hansen/Helwing 2016, 44. 6 Popescu 2013; Hansen/Helwing 2016, 47–50; Sherratt 2018, 101.

Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone  

Surprisingly, for a long time research on the earliest phases of silver production and use excluded the Aegean, although it is remarkably rich in lead-silver ore deposits, of which those in Lavrion, Siphnos and Thasos are of particular importance. Scholars argued that the material had not been mined and processed in the Aegean until the 3rd millennium BC,7 or at least considerably later in the 4th millennium BC than in West Asia.8 When it came to the regions of Southeastern Europe north of Greece, as well as Eastern Central Europe, the possibility that silver had been extracted and processed before the 3rd millennium BC was excluded on principal. Indeed, doubts were raised9 about the pre-Bronze Age date of individual silver objects that were found in these regions. I suspect that such reluctance to accept the use of silver in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan zone prior to 3000 BC was based on a combination of diffusionist and evolutionist preconceptions that have rarely been articulated, but have nonetheless guided research. The first misconception lies in the assumption that diffusion was unidirectional, in other words, that technological innovations were developed in one particular region and transferred from there to surrounding areas.10 The second derives from the notion that diachronic changes in societies can be modelled into discrete stages of unilinear technological progression, in which the potential for innovation is tied to the degree of a given society’s “complexity”, which is usually understood as social inequality, a pronounced hierarchy and bureaucratization.11 From a diffusionist point of view, the potential for innovation was considered to be significantly higher in the “more advanced” societies of the Near East than in societies perceived as more “simply” organized, such as the ones of 4th millennium BC Southeastern Europe and the Aegean.12 This is why scholars have generally assumed that technological innovation was transmitted unidirectionally from West Asia to Europe. Accordingly, a technological innovation such as the extraction of silver, let alone the active development of mining, was considered too sophisticated for supposedly “simply” structured pre-Bronze Age Aegean societies. Yet, the case of the spectacular, early and massive use of silver in the Northern Caucasus in the 4th millennium BC reminds us that the schematic juxtaposition of Asia and Europe is not justified: today’s geographical borders, which set regions such as Greece, the Balkans and the North Caucasus in “Europe”, and Anatolia in “Asia”, do not capture the complexities of the patterns of interaction among societies in later prehistory, to which such designations were utterly irrelevant. In fact, there have long been good reasons for assuming that the people of the Aegean and even of areas to the north of Greece were familiar with silver considerably before the 3rd millennium BC.  7 Renfrew 1967, 4–6; Branigan 1968; Pernicka 2014, 457. 8 Sherratt 2007, 255–257; Rahmstorf 2015, 173; 2016, 258. 9 Muhly 1985, 112; 2002, 78; Pernicka 1990, 57 with footnote 21; 2014, 457; Primas 1995, 80. 10 For a critique of the diffusionist position, see Pearce 2015. 11 For a critique of this position, see Kienlin 2014, 447–467; Mina 2018, 67–73. 12 Mina 2018, 68f.

  Joseph Maran

 Evidence of the Circulation of Chalcolithic Silver Objects In 2000,13 I presented evidence of a pre-Bronze Age use of silver objects in the area between the northern border of the Carpathian Basin and Crete, and used it as one of several arguments for attributing certain innovative features to pre-Bronze Age metallurgy in the Aegean.14 The features in question emphasized the societal importance of pre-Bronze Age metal production, and, as I argued, suggested that the term “Chalcolithic” rather than “Final Neolithic” be used for addressing this period before the Bronze Age.15 Of crucial importance to my line of argument were silver specimens of two types of circular metal objects, ring pendants and discs with three bosses, whose morphological features enabled their attribution to specific periods of the CarpathoBalkan Copper Age. Both types are furnished with perforations that run perpendicular to the broad side of the object. This allowed to attach the object by sewing to a soft surface, such as a textile or leather, or to string it on a thread and wear it around the neck.16 Since the areas of distribution of metal discs with three bosses and ring pendants only slightly overlap in the center of the Carpathian Basin it is possible that, in spite of their seeming morphological differences, the two types of objects were semantically interrelated and the one type served as the functional substitute for the other17. The first type, ring pendants,18 is known in the Aegean in versions of gold, silver, copper, stone, shell and clay.19 The Aegean silver ring pendants were found in the Alepotrypa Cave on the Mani Peninsula (Peloponnese; fig. 1:5),20 in a crevice close to the Eileithyia Cave near Amnissos (Crete; fig. 1:8),21 in the “Cave of Euripides” near

 13 Maran 2000, 191f. 14 Already Zachos 1996, 167 has used the Chalcolithic silver jewelry from the Alepotrypa Cave to stress the “inventive participation of the Aegean region in the development of metallurgy”; see also Zachos 2007, 181. 15 Zachos 2010, 90. 16 Cf. Ivanov 1988, 61 fig. 30; Malach/Štrof 2013, 29f., fig. 6. 17 Parzinger 1992, 245–250 (“Schmuckscheiben”), Hansen 2007, 282–286 (“Goldscheiben”) and Virág 2010, 216f. have argued in favor of the interrelation of the two kinds of circular Copper Age metal objects. 18 Hansen 2007, 282–285. 19 Dimakopoulou 1998, 15–19. 51–58. 62–68; Reinholdt 2008, 30f.; Zachos 2010, 88–90; Maxwell et al. 2018, 162f., Ifantidis 2019, 70–72. 20 McGeehan Liritzis 1996, 109; G. Papathanassopoulos in: Papathanassopoulos 1996, 227 no. 43; G. Papathanassopoulos in: Dimakopoulou 1998, 65 no. 64; Papathanassopoulos et al. 2011, 216 no. 163; Ifantidis 2019, 304. 21 Marinatos 1930, 98; Vasilakis 1996, 160–162. 164f.; fig. 18:19, pl. 69; A. Vasilakis in: Dimakopopulou 1998, 64 no. 63; Vasilakis 2008, 75; McGeehan Liritzis 1996, 109; Ifantidis 2019, 313.

Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone  

Peristeria on Salamis (fig. 1:9)22 and in a burial context in Ege Gübre in the region of Smyrna on the Aegean coast of western Turkey.23 Ring pendants, especially in gold, are a well-known type of object of the Carpatho-Balkan Copper Age, in which they began appearing as early as the mid-5th millennium BC and continued until the mid4th millennium BC.24 This corresponds chronologically with the advanced Aegean Late Neolithic and most of the Chalcolithic. Gold, silver and lead examples of this object group are also attested in Northern and Western Anatolia25 and most likely date—in so far as their contexts are known—to about the same period as the pieces from East Central and Southeastern Europe, as well as the Aegean. Despite the large number of ring pendants found in the Carpatho-Balkan Copper Age, which usually consist of gold, the only silver examples to the north of Greece are the two twin ring pendants from Tiszalúc-Sarkad (fig. 3:1–2),26 which are among the latest occurrences of ring pendants in Eastern Central and Southeastern Europe (see below). This suggests that the use of the precious metal silver for such pendants was a peculiarity of the Aegean-Anatolian region and was probably the result of the appropriation of this symbolic form by societies in this geographical zone.27 Other such peculiarities of ring pendants of the Aegean Late Neolithic/Chalcolithic are the relative frequent occurrence of such made of stone28 and the evidence for examples consisting of copper and clay29 which, as far as I know, are unusual in the Balkan-Carpathian zone.30 The second group of objects consists of metal discs with three bosses known mainly from the Carpathian Basin and attributed to the centuries between the final third of the fifth and the first half of the 4th millennium BC.31 Such discs were usually  22 G. Lolos in: Dimakopoulou 1998, 64 no. 62; Ifantidis 2019, 290. 23 While a drawing of the gold ring pendant from Ege Gübre is available (Keskin 2011a, 210 no. 7), I was unable to find an image of the silver ring pendant from that site mentioned by Mehofer 2014, 471 with footnote 48; 489 no. 52, which is why the exact typological attribution of the object must remain uncertain. A ring pendant from the Kitsos Cave allegedly of silver mentioned by Ifantidis 2019, 72, 288 was confused with the one of stone from that site (I am grateful to Fotis Ifantidis for this important information). I am also indebted to him for the reference to a small ring-shaped object from the excavations at Xirolimni that is supposed to consist of silver (Western Macedonia): Karamitrou-Mentesidi 1998; Ifantidis 2019, 247. 24 Maran 2000, 185; Hansen 2007, 283–286; Zimmermann 2007, 26. 25 Maran 2000, 188 with footnote 49; Zimmermann 2005, 194; 2007; 2016, 216–218; Lichter 2008, 181; Keskin 2008, 88; 2011a, 198–211; Mehofer 2014, 471f. 489; Georgieva 2018, 104. 26 Patay/Szathmári 2001, 11 (“Zwillingsanhänger”). I would like to thank the Hungarian National Museum and the head of its archaeological department, László Szende, for providing me with the photographic record (RT_OS_82_3_458_1_2) of the two pendants. 27 Maran 2000, 192; Zachos 2007, 181; 2010, 88, Alram-Stern 2014, 318. 28 Dimakopoulou 1998, 66f.; Zachos 2010, 88f.; Televantou 2017, 39–42; Maxwell et al. 2018, 163; Ifantidis 2019, 138f. 29 Ifantidis 2019, 70–72. 161. 30 Hansen 2007, 282f. 31 Virág 2010, 215f.; Hansen 2014b, 90.

  Joseph Maran produced in gold or copper, but are represented by a specimen in silver from Mount Kotouč near Štramberk in Moravia (Czech Republic) which for a long time seemed to be unique and, with a diameter of 21.4 cm, is also considerably larger than the Copper Age gold and copper discs with three bosses (fig. 2:1).32 Despite its close morphological correspondence to the gold and copper versions33 of these discs, doubts were raised regarding the dating of the Štramberk disc to the Copper Age.34 While in the Carpathian Basin and the Balkans the occurrence of such embossed metal discs and ring pendants does not continue beyond the mid-4th millennium at latest, in the Aegean and Anatolia, silver, lead and occasionally gold ring pendants, albeit of a somewhat different kind than the earlier ones, do occur in finds from the centuries before and after 3000 BC.35 Although resembling the Chalcolithic ones, they differ from them in certain morphological features. Thus, for example, irrespective of the material from which they are made, these later ring pendants have a horizontally perforated string-hole that allowed them to be worn on necklaces (cf. fig. 1:11).36 By contrast, the perforations in the protruding head of Chalcolithic ring pendants always run perpendicular to their broad side (cf. fig. 1:5, 8–9). Matthias Mehofer has pointed to yet another difference between the two: Early Bronze Age ring pendants were cast, while Chalcolithic ones were predominantly hammered out of sheet metal.37 Many serious chronological miscalculations38 could have been avoided had these morphological differences between Chalcolithic and Early Bronze Age ring pendants been taken into account. Aside from examples of Early Bronze Age metal ring pendants from West Anatolia and the islands of the East Aegean,39 such as the ones of lead and gold found at the cemetery of Bakla Tepe,40 or the silver and copper ones from Poliochni on Lemnos,41 a silver ring pendant with a horizontally perforated string-hole was found in Grave 19 of the cemetery of Tsepi (Attica: fig. 1:11).42 Maria Pantelidou-Gofa43

 32 Jisl 1967, 14f.; Virág 2010, 215; C. Lichter in: Lichter 2010, 383 no. 353; Popescu 2013, 73; Hansen 2014b, 90; Hansen/Helwing 2016, 46f. 33 Parzinger 1992, 245; Hansen 2014b, 97. 34 Muhly 1985, 112; Pernicka 1990, 57 with footnote 21a; but see Maran 2000, 191. 35 Reinholdt 2008, 31–33. 36 On the basic distinction between these two types of ring-shaped objects, see Maran 2000, 187f.; also Reinholdt 2008, 33; Mehofer 2014, 472. 37 Mehofer 2014, 472. But see the mould for casting ring pendants from Phase 3 of the Late Chalcolithic settlement of Çamlıbel Tarlası (Turkey), which dates to the mid-4th millennium BC: Schoop 2011, 59, fig. 9. 38 Makkay 1976, 257–260; 1989, 39–43. 39 For an overview, see Reinholdt 2008, 31–33; Keskin 2011a; 2011b. 40 Keskin 2011a, 198f., fig. 1:1–3; 2011b, 148. 280 nos. 163–165; 41 Keskin 2011a, 199, fig. 1:4–5. 42 Pantelidou-Gofa 2005, 140. 320, pl. 21:7; Zachos 2010, 88. I would like to thank Maria PantelidouGofa for allowing me to reproduce the drawing of the Tsepi silver pendant. 43 Pantelidou-Gofa 2005, 320.

Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone  

attributes this grave to the earliest phase of the cemetery and has correlated it with the Pelos-Lakkoudes phase of the Early Cycladic period. Such an attribution is tantamount to synchronization with the later Chalcolithic of Central and Southern Greece, since the earliest phase of the Cycladic Early Bronze Age must have started considerably prior to the Early Helladic.44 Despite the differences in manufacturing technique and the manner of suspension (horizontally perforated string-hole vs perpendicular perforation) between the Early Bronze Age and Chalcolithic ring pendants, some continuity between the two kinds is likely. A mould for casting ring-shaped pendants with a perpendicular perforation from Çamlıbel Tarlası near Boğazköy (Turkey) can be attributed on the basis of 14 C-dates45 to around 3500 BC and is thus the latest firmly dated example of the older kind of the ring pendant, which after 3000 BC is, to my knowledge, not anymore securely attested.46 The ring pendant from the cemetery of Tsepi, which belongs to the younger kind with horizontally perforated string-hole, is dated to the second half of the 4th millennium BC. Moreover, a date in the last centuries of the 4th millennium cannot be excluded for the ring pendants—again of the younger kind—from funerary contexts that are classified as “Early Bronze 1” (e. g. from Bakla Tepe) as to my knowledge these graves have not been 14C-dated. Therefore, the replacement of the earlier by the younger kind of ring pendant seems to have occurred during the second half of the 4th millennium BC. It is surprising that this change from one kind of ring pendant to the other can be demonstrated only in the Aegean and in certain parts of Anatolia since no signs of such a continuous development exist in the Carpatho-Balkan zone, the area with by far the largest number of ring pendants before 3500 BC. This means that a marked break in long-term traditions of symbolic forms must have occurred in the mid 4th millennium BC in precisely those regions with the highest number and longest use of metal ring pendants.47 One of the reasons why a pre-Bronze Age date for the Alepotrypa and Amnissos silver ring pendants and the Štramberk disc was questioned by some scholars until recently lay in the lack of contextual information.48 The Štramberk disc was found by laymen and, as a large silver object, seemed completely isolated in the Carpathian

 44 On the correlation of the earliest phase of the Cycladic Early Bronze Age with the younger Chalcolithic of Southern and Central Greece, see Maran 1998, 135–138. 152–153; Zachos 2010, 88; Alram-Stern 2014, 319. 45 Schoop 2011, 65. 46 A stone ring pendant found by Heinrich Schliemann in Troy (Keskin 2011a, 199, fig. 1:9) is, to my knowledge, the only example of this Chalcolithic object type that may be of post-Chalcolithic date, since Troy I dates to the beginning of the Early Bronze Age. As nothing is known about its find context, however, the pendant could easily be a Late Chalcolithic object found in a later level in Troy: Yilmaz 2015, 28f. 47 Hansen 2007, 285f. 48 Leusch et al. 2015, 357f.

  Joseph Maran Copper Age.49 In 2012, however, another silver disc with three bosses came to light (fig. 2) in a hoard found in Vanovice, again in Moravia (Czech Republic), that also encompassed two ceramic bowls with inturned rims.50 In contrast to the situation at Štramberk, in this case it was possible to assess the manner of deposition of the objects. According to the reconstruction by Roman Malach and Antonín Štrof the first bowl was placed in an upright position with the silver disc covering the mouth of the vessel like a lid and with the bosses of the disc pointing downwards, on top of which the second bowl, turned upside-down, had been positioned to cover both the rim of the standing vessel and the silver disc.51 With a diameter of 22 cm the Vanovice disc is even slightly larger than the one from Štramberk.52 Based on the pottery the hoard is dated to the end of the so-called Epilengyel/Jordanów culture and the beginning of the local Funnel Beaker culture,53 and thus should date around 4000 BC. The silver ring pendant from Amnissos (fig. 1:8), in turn, came to light in 1930 during an excavation in the crevice used for burial purposes close to the Eileithyia Cave that yielded Chalcolithic and Early Minoan finds, but whose stratigraphy and findings were not properly reported. Since Spyridon Marinatos mentioned having found Early Minoan vessels, this dating was extended also to the pendant, although neither the “Early Minoan” vessels nor other evidence that could have substantiated this chronological attribution were ever published.54 Finally, the silver ring pendant from the Alepotrypa Cave (fig. 1:5) was discovered by speleologists together with two larger and two smaller silver bracelets (or earrings)55 with thickened ends (fig. 1:3–4.6–7), as well as components probably of a necklace consisting of silver beads (fig. 1:1), of which 168 are of a flat, ring-shaped type, while two beads are slightly larger and represent a barrel-shaped (fig. 1:2) or cylindrical type (fig. 1:1 [larger bead in the middle]) respectively.56 The speleologists were said to have found the silver objects as a group in Chamber A of the cave.57 The admittedly unfortunate circumstances of the find along with the seemingly unique nature of the silver objects and possibly the fact that the later systematic excavations at Alepotrypa Cave did not  49 Primas 1995, 80; Virág 2010, 215; Hansen 2014b, 100. 50 Malach/Štrof 2013, 26 pl. 1:1–3. 51 Malach/Štrof 2013, 26 pl. 1:4. 52 Malach/Štrof 2013, 20–22, figs. 4–5. 53 Malach/Štrof 2013, 28f. 54 Milojčić 1953, 9; Branigan 1968, 222; 1974, 194 no. 3140; Already Muhly 1985, 112 pointed to the possibility of a Chalcolithic date for this object; for a critical assessment of the alleged Early Minoan date of this object, see also Maran 2000, 186f. 55 The diameter even of the two smaller “bracelets” is quite small. Accordingly, it is uncertain how they were worn. 56 McGeehan Liritzis 1996, 104–111; G. Papathanassopoulos in: Papathanassopoulos 1996, 227, nos. 41–43; G. Papathanassopoulos in: Dimakopoulou 1998, 65 nos. 64–66; Zachos 2007, 172f., fig. 11.2:d–g. 57 G. Papathanassopoulos in: Papathanassopoulos 1996, 227.

Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone  

yield comparable objects, have given rise to speculations as to whether the silver objects derived from a different site and belonged to periods later than the Final Neolithic/Chalcolithic.58 However, since no arguments corroborating such a claim were presented, I see no reason to doubt the authenticity of their provenance, all the more so since we now have additional arguments for assigning the objects to the same Chalcolithic period as the one so well represented by other find groups from the excavations at the Alepotrypa Cave. In contrast to the Alepotrypa ring pendant, which belongs to a well-known group of objects, no Chalcolithic/Copper Age counterparts to the silver bracelets and beads from that cave were known in the Aegean or the Balkans until recently.59 This prompted the assumption that they might date to the Early Bronze Age and led to their comparison to the silver beads from Tomb 26 of Louros (Naxos), which date to the early 3rd millennium BC.60 Such a comparison was based, however, solely on the relatively simple flat ring-shaped silver beads that are not only represented at Louros, but also in Tomb 2 of Gournes (Crete).61 These beads dating to the early 3rd millennium BC are not only bigger than the ones from Alepotrypa,62 but also do not include the barrel-shaped and cylindrical types represented in the Alepotrypa bead spectrum.63 Although it is no longer possible to reconstruct the original find context of the silver objects in the Alepotrypa Cave, recent finds from Bulgaria now allow us to conclusively state that all the silver objects in it are consistent with a 4th millennium BC date and that there is no need to argue that they may belong to a completely different period. Excavations under the direction of Hristina Vălčanova and Borislav Borislavov at the Haramiyskata Cave near Trigrad in the Western Rhodope Mountains (Bulgaria) have led to the discovery of a silver bracelet with thickened ends (fig. 4:1) and exactly the same spectrum of disc-shaped and cylindrical beads as well as one barrel-shaped silver bead (fig. 4:2) as those found in the Alepotrypa Cave. The context of the objects has been assigned by the excavators to the Final Eneolithic in Bulgaria and dated to the first half of the 4th millennium BC.64 A slightly later date, namely the last third of the 4th millennium BC, is proposed for the barrel-shaped and cylindrical silver beads

 58 Papathanasiou 2018, 21. 59 Ifantidis 2019, 64. 60 McGeehan Liritzis 1996, 106; Pernicka 2014, 457; Alram-Stern 2014, 319; Galanaki et al. 2011, 81 fig. 9.4. For the attribution of Louros Grave 26 to the Kampos phase (Early Cycladic IB), see Rambach 2000, 217. 61 Galanaki et al. 2011, 81, fig. 9.2. 62 Galanaki et al. 2011, 81. 63 Reinholdt 2008, 55; Galanaki et al. 2011, 81. 64 Borislavov/Vălčanova 2017a, 16; Borislavov/Vălčanova 2017b, 113–116. I am grateful to Hristina Vălčanova and Borislav Borislavov for allowing me to reproduce the photography of the silver objects from the Haramiyskata cave.

  Joseph Maran found in tomb 1 of Tumulus 4 in Mednikarovo (Bulgaria).65 In addition, twelve silver bracelets with thickened ends similar to those found in the Alepotrypa Cave appeared in a large hoard of eighty-six silver objects at Panayot Hitovo (Bulgaria), in which they were associated with crescent-shaped plaques, coiled spiral plaques and hemispherical appliqués.66 Should it prove true that this hoard antedates 3000 BC, and is perhaps as early as the late 5th millennium BC,67 it will be by far the largest complex of pre-Bronze Age silver objects ever found in Southeastern Europe. All the silver objects from the Alepotrypa Cave can thus be assigned to the first half of the 4th millennium BC which means that they may actually have formed part of a closed find of a grave or hoard. There are currently no indications of an even earlier dating of the Alepotrypa silver objects, and therefore the often cited attribution of the objects to the later 5th millennium BC cannot be substantiated. Their preBronze Age date should not come as a surprise, however, as it is confirmed by the find circumstances of other early silver objects from the Aegean. Thus, the third known silver ring pendant from Greece, the one found at the “Cave of Euripides” near Peristeria on Salamis (fig. 1:9), came to light during a modern excavation that also yielded a silver ring (fig. 1:10).68 The objects were attributed by the excavator to the transition between the Late and Final Neolithic (i. e. Chalcolithic) and dated to ca. 4500 BC.69 In Limenaria on Thasos a silver pin was found in a context related to silver extraction in the first half of the 4th millennium BC.70 Finally, the silver ring pendant from Ege Gübre which is said to belong to the Chalcolithic kind with perpendicular perforation was found in a Late Chalcolithic tomb. Accordingly, silver objects are unquestionably known from 4th-millennium BC contexts in Greece as well as in the Aegean in general. What is more, those found in Bulgaria clearly demonstrate that the same holds true for the zone immediately north of the Aegean. The items found support the view that silver objects existed in the Aegean as well as the Carpatho-Balkan zone even before the mid-4th millennium BC. Barbara Helwing und Svend Hansen71 have pointed out that the extraction and use of  65 Alexandrov 2018, 88–90 with fig. 2, 454 no. 1. 66 Konova 2018, 359–363, fig. 1–3. For a comparison of the silver bracelets with the ones from the Alepotrypa Cave, see Popescu 2013, 78; 2015, 113. 67 Popescu 2013, 75–78; 2015, 111–117. 68 G. Lolos in: Dimakopoulou 1998, 64 no. 62. 69 G. Lolos in: Dimakopoulou 1998, 64. A circular metal object from the earliest settlement phase of Ftelia (Mykonos) that was mentioned by Sampson 2002, 124 as consisting of silver (see also Zachos 2010, 88; Mehofer 2014, 488), must date to the first half of the 5th millennium BC and would have been by far the earliest silver object from Southeastern Europe and the Aegean. Further analysis, however, has shown that this object is made of gold rather than silver, and is thus the earliest securely dated gold object of the Aegean: Maxwell et al. 2018, 164–168. 70 Papadopoulos 2008, 62–65; Koukouli-Chrysanthaki/Papadopoulos 2016, 340–342; Bassiakos et al. 2019, 2751f. 71 Hansen/Helwing 2016, 50.

Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone  

silver in Southeastern Europe may have begun as early as the late 5th millennium BC, which would place the aforementioned objects into a time frame prior to the earliest sign of silver extraction in the Near and Middle East. Evidence supporting the circulation of silver objects before 4000 BC in Eastern Central and Southeastern Europe, however, is still quite tentative. The time span of the gold discs with three bosses indeed begins in the final third of the 5th millennium BC, but the possibility that some of them were produced in the early 4th millennium cannot be excluded, all the more so as copper versions of such discs can securely be dated to the first half of the 4th millennium BC.72 Thus, it seems to me that a secure attribution of the Štramberk and Vanovice silver discs to the centuries before or after 4000 BC is impossible. By contrast, the two silver objects from the excavation at the “Cave of Euripides” were found in a carefully documented context and have been dated to around 4500 BC. However, since this early date has not yet been substantiated by the publication of the associated finds and/or 14C-dates, it can be accepted only with reservations. Whether silver objects such as those in the deposit of Panayot Hitovo really could date as early as the late 5th millennium BC must be examined in the future. All in all, according to the current state of research, the occurrence of silver objects in Eastern Central and Southeastern Europe as well as the Aegean in the early 4th millennium BC is undisputable; even a dating of individual objects to the second half of the 5th millennium cannot be excluded. The disc with three bosses from Štramberk corresponds approximately to the period of the earliest appearance of silver objects in Bulgaria and Greece and is no longer as isolated in the Carpathian Basin as it once seemed due to the discovery of the second silver disc from Vanovice and the two twin ring pendants made of silver sheet (fig. 3:1–2) found in Grave B2, a child’s grave, in the late Middle Copper Age—Hunyadihalom phase—cemetery of Tiszalúc-Sarkad (East Hungary).73 The grave probably dates to the centuries before the mid-4th millennium BC. In view of this evidence, doubts about the Copper Age dating of the Štramberk disc can finally be laid to rest. Future investigations must try to specify how far into the past the use of silver objects in Southeastern Europe and in Eastern Central Europe reached.

 Evidence of Chalcolithic Silver Production In and of themselves, the aforementioned pre-Bronze Age silver objects from the Aegean, the Balkans and the Carpathian Basin offer no proof of the production of silver

 72 Parzinger 1992; Virág 2010; Hansen 2014b. 73 Patay/Szathmári 2001, 5–8.

  Joseph Maran in these areas. Theoretically, all the objects may have been introduced from other regions as finished products, or have been produced by melting imported silver objects and turning them into different items. Indeed, the latter interpretation seems, at first sight, to be plausible for the Štramberk and Vanovice discs and the Tiszalúc-Sarkad twin ring pendants, in light of the fact that they are the only objects of silver in Central Europe before 3500 BC. Today, we would not have to look primarily to Anatolia or another part of the Near and Middle East74 in order to answer the question from where the silver used for producing the discs might have entered the Carpathian Basin, since the silver could have derived from objects obtained through exchange relations with the southern parts of the Balkans or the Aegean.75 Yet, the available information on the chemical composition of the Štramberk and Vanovice discs does not seem to give us any reason to assume a foreign origin of the metal. Since lead is not mentioned in the elemental composition of the discs, it is rather unlikely that they consist of cupelled silver.76 The same applies to the two twin ring pendants from Tiszalúc-Sarkad, whose elemental composition does not seem to comprise lead.77 Accordingly, all these earliest silver objects from the Carpathian Basin are unlikely to have been made from cupelled silver. Nevertheless, it is unclear whether this means that native silver or silver directly smelted from its ores was used for producing the discs and from where such silver ores may have been obtained.78 In contrast to the described situation regarding the earliest silver objects in the Carpathian Basin, there has been for a long time evidence for the extraction of silver prior to the Early Bronze Age in the Aegean.79 An early indication of the production of at least some pre-Bronze Age silver objects in the Aegean was already available thirty years ago, when studies of a bead and bracelet from the Alepotrypa cave led to the conclusion that their lead isotope composition was consistent with ores from the Lavrion mining district.80 However, since lead isotopy does not enable an indisputable  74 Primas 1995, 80; for a critique, see Hansen/Helwing 2016, 46. 75 Patay/Szathmári 2001, 10f. 76 Pernicka 1990, 57f. with footnote 21a; Helwing/Hansen 2016, 46f.; C. Lichter in Lichter 2010, 383 no. 353; Malach/Štrof 2013, 31 pl. 3. One would expect to find lead contents between 0.1 and 2 percent in silver extracted from argentiferous ores: Leusch et al. 2015, 358. 77 Patay/Szathmári 2001, 10. 78 Based on the composition of the Štramberk disk, Pernicka 1990, 57 doubted that native silver was used in its production. Since the few analyzed products of the rich North Caucasian silver metallurgy of the 4th millennium BC at the cemetery of Klady also do not contain lead, Ivanova 2013, 90 suspects the direct smelting of silver ores. However, it seems unlikely that such a massive production of silver objects, some of them quite large in size, could have been carried out without cupellation: Sherratt 2018, 103 footnote 10. See also the case of the gold beads with a silver concentration of around 45 percent from the Copper Age cemetery of Varna I, which have been interpreted as a silver-rich natural variation of gold: Leusch et al. 2015, 357–359. 79 Zachos 1996, 167; Maran 2000, 189. 80 Stos-Gale 1989, 287; Gale/Stos-Gale 2008, 387.

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assignment to a specific ore deposit, additional arguments are needed to confirm the assumption that silver was already extracted in the pre-Bronze Age Aegean. Fortunately, since the publication of my article in 2000, a considerable number of indications that the mining and processing of argentiferous ores in Greece indeed began long before 3000 BC have come to the fore.81 Limenaria on Thasos, for example, has yielded evidence of silver extraction through pyro-metallurgical reduction of argentiferous lead ores, which has been radiocarbon dated to the period between 3977 and 3789 cal BC.82 An investigation of “litharge-resembling”83 waste products has shown that we are dealing with a not yet completely understood production process, which differs from that of cupellation practiced in later periods.84 Traces of silver extraction similar to the ones found in Limenaria are known from Attica. Currently, the earliest dating for pre-Bronze Age silver production in Attica derives from the settlement of Merenta, which was occupied during the later Central and Southern Greek Chalcolithic as well as Early Helladic (EH) I.85 The features at the excavation dating to the transition from the Chalcolithic to EH I consist mostly of subterranean chambers used for living. The pieces of “litharge-resembling” refuse of silver extraction found in and around these chambers bear witness to the separation of silver from lead through the use of bowl-shaped vessels as cupels. In Chamber 7, pieces of such “litharge-resembling” cakes were found in sediments below a layer that had been 14C-dated to the period 3495–3348 cal BC.86 That this is part of a general phenomenon of the intensive use of local lead/silver ores in Attica is underlined by recent finds from Glyphada (Attica), where evidence of local silver production in the form of “litharge”, slag and stone tools have been ascertained in contexts that again date to the later Chalcolithic and the beginning of the Early Helladic period.87 After serving in the production of silver, the area was turned into a space used for funerary purposes in EH I and II.88 In Lambrika near Koropi, a large amount of “litharge-resembling” refuse in the shape of discoid cakes from cupels used for silver separation was found in the context of excavation features dating to the advanced EH I;89 these bear witness to intense silver extraction in the early 3rd millennium BC.90 Pottery of the earliest phase of the Cycladic Early Bronze Age was

 81 Tzachili 2008, 10. 82 Papadopoulos 2008, 65; Bassiakos et al. 2019, 2744. 83 Bassiakos et al. 2019, 2752–2754. 84 Bassiakos et al. 2019, 2754. 85 Kakavogianni et al. 2016. 86 Kakavogianni et al. 2016, 446 with footnote 59. 87 Kaza 2016; 2017; 2018. 88 Kaza 2016, 9; 2017, 9; 2018, 11f. 89 Kakavogianni et al. 2016, 446 with footnote 60. 90 Kakavogianni et al. 2008, 47f.; Kakavogianni et al. 2016, 447.

  Joseph Maran found in connection with the mining of lead/silver ores91 in the mines of Agios Sostis (Siphnos), allowing these activities to be dated to the time of the later Central and Southern Greek Chalcolithic, which means a chronological date in the second half of the 4th millennium BC. A site where silver was mined was also investigated in Akrotiraki (Siphnos).92 Here again pieces of “litharge”, crucible fragments and equipment used in ore processing came to light as did pottery from the Cycladic Chalcolithic (“Final Neolithic”) and Early Cycladic (EC) stages I to III.93 The acme of silver production seems to have occurred in EC II, but only after the full publication of the structures and finds will it be possible to assess how early the metallurgical activities began and whether their character changed over time. However, since this was not a regular domestic site, but rather one specifically used for the extraction of silver, the presence of both Cycladic Chalcolithic and EC I pottery again strongly suggests the onset of metallurgical activity in the 4th millennium BC. In sum, we can state that we have firmly dated evidence of silver production from Limenaria (Thasos) for the first third of the 4th millennium BC, and from Merenta (Attica) for the mid-4th millennium BC. Only comparable 14C-dates will enable us to determine how far back into the 4th millennium BC may the production of silver in Lambrika, Glyphada (Attica) and Akrotiraki (Siphnos) date. Τhese recent finds make it quite likely that most pre-Bronze Age silver objects found in Greece were likewise made from local ores. Also noteworthy is that in the case of Attica, Thasos and Siphnos, the lead-silver deposits have already yielded significant evidence of Chalcolithic silver extraction that would later come to dominate silver production in classical Greece.94 Hopefully, future analysis will clarify whether the lead isotope ratios of the 4th-millennium BC silver objects found in Bulgaria are consistent with those originating in Anatolia or the Aegean (with Thasos serving as an obvious potential source) or whether we are dealing here with the production of silver objects based on indigenous Bulgarian lead/silver ore deposits. It seems to me that the second option is strongly suggested by recent evidence of the processing of lead ores in ca. 4400–4300 cal BC in Pietrele (Romania).95 Reported finds of crucibles with slag-like remains and galena ore at that site do not seem to be related to silver production, but they do emphasize that people were experimenting with lead and thus gained experience in precisely those kinds of ores needed for silver extraction96. The lead isotope ratios of samples of these lead ores were consistent with those from two potential regions of

 91 Gropengiesser 1986, 11–17; 1987, 3–9; Rambach 2000, 152. 92 Papadopoulou 2011, 149–152. 93 Papadopoulou 2011, 150–152. 94 Tzachili 2008, 10. 95 Hansen et al. 2019. 96 Hansen et al. 2019, 3–27.

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Bulgaria, clearly pointing to the early exploitation of Bulgarian lead ore deposits.97 In terms of the silver objects found in Greece, it would be helpful to date the possibly most ancient silver objects from the Aegean—the ring pendant and the ring from the “Cave of Euripides”—more accurately through the archaeological context and to analyse the composition and origin of the metal in order to learn whether the objects consist of cupelled silver and from which ore deposits the silver may come.

 Beyond Diffusionism and Evolutionism: The Earliest Silver Between the Aegean and the Carpathian Basin Insights gained over the past two decades have underscored the reality of significant Chalcolithic silver metallurgy in the Aegean, the origins of which can now be traced back to at least the early 4th millennium BC. In my article of 2000, proof of the preBronze Age use of silver was based mainly on relatively few finished products, some of which lacked adequate find contexts. Since that time, however, evidence of the earliest phase of silver mining and extraction in the Aegean has dramatically increased, with the ore deposits of Lavrion impressively emerging as one of the major sources in the Aegean during this period. Another significant recent development is evidence of the circulation of silver objects also in the Eastern Balkans at least from the early 4th millennium BC, where there is currently no indication of pre-Bronze Age mining and the extraction of silver, which, however, may be due solely to an as-ofyet inadequate state of research. After all—to my knowledge—no evidence of Chalcolithic silver mining and extraction in North, West and Central Anatolia as well as in the North Caucasus has yet emerged, but given the richness of Anatolian/Caucasian lead/silver ore deposits, there are good reasons to assume that the Chalcolithic silver objects found there were extracted from indigenous ores.98 All this evidence contradicts the claim that the emergence of silver metallurgy in the Aegean should be assigned to the 3rd millennium BC, and the argument that no pre-Bronze Age silver artefacts existed north of the Aegean. Even if 4th millennium BC societies in the Aegean and Southeastern Europe had very different political and economic structures than those of the Near and Middle East, scholars today need to admit that the extraction, processing and use of silver for the production of objects began at latest in the first half of the 4th millennium BC and possibly even earlier. This would be simultaneous or even prior to the earliest evidence of the use of the precious metal in West Asia and

 97 Hansen et al. 2019, 28f. 98 Ivanova 2013, 90; Courcier 2014, 621f.

  Joseph Maran the North Caucasus. Moreover, based on evidence from the Aegean, previously unknown precursors of the cupellation process are coming to the fore. These will provide invaluable insights into the procedures used to extract silver from lead ores and serve as a reminder that the development of technologies is based on long-term processes of experimentation. Susan Sherratt has recently discussed the possible factors underlying the sudden supra-regional importance of silver in West Asia and the North Caucasus from the early 4th millennium BC on.99 Among the factors mentioned by her are the relative uselessness of silver for any strictly practical purpose, its shiny appearance and its connection—by way of precious metal vessels—to ritualized drinking as well as its status as a novelty based on the fact that its rather complicated production process made it a latecomer in the spectrum of metals.100 As we can now say, the horizon of the earliest use of silver as described by Sherratt was not restricted to West Asia and the Northern Caucasus, but included parts of Southeastern Europe and the Carpathian Basin as well as the Aegean from the very outset. Some of the factors cited by Sherratt—its shininess, non-practical quality and novel character—are likely to apply to the objects from Southeastern Europe and the Aegean, but there are also certain notable differences. While the 4th-millennium BC silver objects from the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan zone—but also from Anatolia—were exclusively ornamental and worn on the body, namely the head, neck and chest area,101 the nexus between silver and ritualized drinking102 as well as the production of silver weapons103 do not yet seem to be characteristic aspects of the 4th-millennium BC use of silver,104 but appear only from the 3rd millennium BC onwards. This is probably related to a further difference in the conditions described by Sherratt; although silver objects may have served as a means of social differentiation105 in the earliest phase of their use in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan zone during the first half of the 4th millennium BC, there is little evidence that they were employed for the aggrandizement of certain persons in the sense of personal property, the display of fixed status positions and social inequality. Many of the earliest silver objects in Europe were found in contexts suggestive of ritually motivated depositions,106 ones through which the social ranking of a community could be visualized and negotiated in situated practices. In this context, as the examples from Bulgaria and Greece emphasize, caves seem to have played a  99 Sherratt 2018. 100 Sherratt 2018, 102. 101 Constantinescu et al. 2016, 14. 102 Sherratt 2018, 101. 103 Hansen 2001; Hansen/Helwing 2016, 48f. 104 But see the silver-copper alloy dagger from Poduri (Romania) that may date as early as the mid4th millennium BC: Popescu 2015, 117; Constantinescu et al. 2016, 19, fig. 5. 105 Stratouli 2008, 563. 106 Hansen 2014b, 101–103.

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special role as places of deposition for some of the earliest silver objects,107 while the find circumstances of the large silver discs from Štramberk and Vanovice underline that in Eastern Central Europe depositions under free sky and at certain points in the landscape were practiced.108 So far, the child’s grave in Tiszalúc-Sarkad is the only certain case between the Carpathian Basin to the north and the Aegean to the south in which silver objects were tied to a certain individual during the act of deposition in the first half of the 4th millennium BC. Even if the silver objects from the Alepotrypa Cave and from Amnissos too served as grave furnishings, the situation there would still differ from both the monopolization and display of special materials and objects by certain kin-groups in the elite cemeteries of the North Caucasus in the 4th millennium and the cemetery of Varna in the 5th millennium BC.109 Only from the second half of the 4th millennium onward did silver objects in the Balkans, the Aegean and Anatolia area appear to have been used more often as grave furnishings, a trend that continued into the 3rd millennium BC. It is precisely because silver is so difficult to produce that the supra-regional chronological correspondence of the earliest appearance of objects made of this metal in West Asia, the Aegean and Southeastern Europe has given rise to overarching questions about the nature of the dissemination of technological innovations. As stated, long-prevalent diffusionist and evolutionist models presupposed a unilinear evolution of technological innovations as well as a unidirectional transfer of such innovations, and posited a chronological gap between the first appearance of metallurgical innovations in “complexly” organized societies of West Asia and their earliest appearance in the more “simply” structured societies of Southeastern Europe. This combination of evolutionist and diffusionist preconceptions kept many scholars from acknowledging that the Balkan-Carpathian Copper Age may have been an innovative center of copper production as early as the beginning of the 5th millennium BC.110 As regards silver the same preconceptions led to the rejection of the possibility that the regions of the Balkans had any knowledge of silver objects—let alone the technology to extract silver—prior to the 3rd millennium BC. Even in the case of the Aegean, the arrival of silver production was deemed to have occurred only in the transition from the 4th to the 3rd millennium BC. It must be emphasized that this alleged delay in the production and use of silver in the Aegean and the Balkans vis à vis West Asia is clearly contradicted by the evidence presented here. Contrary to previous assumptions, silver seems to have first been used in the Carpatho-Balkan zone and the Aegean in the early 4th millennium, thus at the same time as it was in West Asia and the

 107 Sherratt 2007, 248; Ifantidis 2019, 196. 108 Hansen 2014b, 101–103. 109 See already Nakou 1995, 7. 110 Radivojević et al. 2010 with earlier literature; Kienlin 2014, 449–453; Rosenstock et al. 2016, 94– 106.

  Joseph Maran North Caucasus, or earlier, that is, in the late 5th millennium BC.111 Therefore, as in the case of other innovations such as the development of copper smelting in the early 5th millennium BC,112 of the earliest wheeled vehicles in the 4th millennium,113 or of the light chariot in the early 2nd millennium BC,114 so too in the case of silver metallurgy, the classical diffusionist position on the primacy of the Near and Middle East in relation to areas of Europe seems incapable of accounting for the current evidence. It is becoming increasingly clear that the diffusionist model of a unidirectional transfer of innovations from West Asia to Southeastern Europe, which ultimately goes back to Vere Gordon Childe115 and is based on a simplistic juxtaposition of “Asia” and “Europe”, is as untenable as the belief that metallurgical technologies were far too “sophisticated” for pre-Bronze Age societies outside of West Asia to contribute to their development. Indeed, the evolutionary and diffusionist way of thinking has consistently underestimated the creativity and agency of those societies perceived as “simply” organized due to the fact that they had no fixed hierarchies or pronounced social inequality. Maria Mina and Tobias Kienlin have therefore been correct in speaking out against the schematic application of evolutionist ideas to the study of early metallurgy and in arguing for a move away from models that present evolutionist stages based on the assumption of a close connection between technologies and certain socio-political constellations.116 They advocate for contextualizing these technologies and replacing the evolutionist, uniform meaning of metallurgy as “technological progress” with the notion of a variety of coexistent meanings that metals may have had for the societies using them.117 The rejection of this rigid coupling of technological change and certain stages of “socio-political development”118 has also impacted the modelling of diffusion processes, for if technological innovations such as those related to metallurgy, for example, did not stem from a sudden invention in one region that was then passed on unchanged to surrounding areas, but were rather steadily modified and further developed in their respective social and cultural contexts, then the unidirectional

 111 Hansen/Helwing 2016, 50. 112 Rosenstock et al. 2016, 83–101. 113 Maran 2004, 439. 114 Burmeister/Raulwing 2012, 98–105. 115 Pearce 2015, 45f. 116 Kienlin 2012, 133–140; 2016, 123–131; Mina 2018, 67–69. 117 Kienlin 2014, 447–453; 2016, 131–135; Mina 2018, 69–73; see also Helwing 2016, 161f. 118 By contrasting the different role of metallurgy in 5th millennium BC Mesopotamia and Southeastern Europe, Bertemes 2016, 181–188 demonstrates that a rise of social and political complexity can occur – as in the case of Ubaid Mesopotamia – although metallurgy does not seem to have been of particular importance.

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model of diffusionism must be replaced by a multidirectional, dialogical model.119 In such a dialogical model, the geographic zone between the Carpathian Basin and the Balkans in the northwest and the Iranian highlands in the southeast would have to be perceived as an interaction sphere consisting of many sub-zones, in which knowledge and practices—in this case, the extraction and processing of silver—travelled in various directions.120 Such a scenario would have led to the co-production of technological knowledge among interconnected societies from different regions, and quite often ones that differed widely in terms of social and political organization. In such collaborative processes, innovations would have been so quickly adapted and modified by the receiving societies that it would be impossible for us today to pinpoint the ultimate origin of many innovations as was once deemed possible. In terms of pre-Bronze Age metallurgy in Southeastern Europe in general, James Muhly has rightly emphasized the pioneering role of the Carpatho-Balkan zone vis à vis the Aegean in copper and gold metallurgy.121 Nevertheless, when it comes to metallurgy, it would be inappropriate to regard Aegean Chalcolithic societies solely as passive recipients of external impulses122 since, at least with respect to the extraction and use of silver, they appear to have been innovative and active in technological developments that cannot yet be ascertained in other parts of the Carpatho-Balkan zone.123 Given the extremely long Copper Age tradition of metal extraction and processing in Southeastern Europe and the abundance of lead and silver ores, it is quite possible that societies of the Aegean and the Balkans contributed significantly to the development of silver metallurgy and that both were involved in the development of specific solutions later taken up by metallurgists in other regions and further developed in the sense of the co-production of knowledge, as described above.

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  Joseph Maran Vasilakis, A.S. (2008), “Silver Metalworking in Prehistoric Crete: An Historical Survey”, in: I. Tzachili (ed.), Aegean Metallurgy in the Bronze Age. Proceedings of an International Symposium Held at the University of Crete, Rethymnon, Greece, on November 19–21, 2004, Athens, 75–85. Virág, Z.M. (2010), “Ringanhänger und Goldscheiben: Verbreitung und Bedeutung”, in: C. Lichter (ed.), Jungsteinzeit im Umbruch: Die ‘Michelsberger Kultur’ und Mitteleuropa vor 6000 Jahren, Karlsruhe, 212–217. Yilmaz, D. (2015), “Observations on the Troy I Period in the Light of Recent Survey Finds from the Coastal Troad”, in: P.M. Militello/H. Öniz (eds.), SOMA 2011: Proceedings of the 15th Symposium on Mediterranean Archaeology, Held at the University of Catania 3–5 March 2011, BAR International Series 2695, Oxford, 27–34. Zachos, K.L. (1996), “Metal Jewellery”, in: G.A. Papathanassopoulos (ed.), Neolithic Culture in Greece, Athens, 166f. Zachos, K.L. (2007), “The Neolithic Background: A Reassessment”, in: P.M. Day and R.C.P. Doonan (eds.), Metallurgy in the Early Bronze Age Aegean, Sheffield Studies in Aegean Archaeology 7, Oxford, 168–206. Zachos, K.L. (2010), “Η μεταλλουργία στην Ελλάδα και στη ΝΑ Ευρώπη κατά την 5η και 4η χιλιετία π. Χ.” , in: N. Papadimitriou/Z. Tsirtsoni (eds.), Η Ελλάδα στο ευρύτερο πολιτισμικό πλαίσιο των Βαλκανίων κατά την 5η και 4η χιλιετία π. Χ., Athens, 77–91. Zimmermann, T. (2005), “Zu den frühesten Blei- und Edelmetallfunden aus Anatolien: Einige Gedanken zu Kontext und Technologie”, in: Der Anschnitt 57, 190–199. Zimmermann, T. (2007), “Anatolia and the Balkans, Once Again: Ring-Shaped Idols from Western Asia and a Critical Reassessment of Some ‘Early Bronze Age’ Items from İkiztepe, Turkey”, in: OJA 26, 25–33. Zimmermann, T. (2016), “Frühmetallzeitliche Metallurgie und Chronologie entlang der türkischen Schwarzmeerküste. Zwei Themen – Ein Diskurs”, in: V. Nikolov/W. Schier (eds.), Der Schwarzmeerraum vom Neolithikum bis in die Früheisenzeit (6000–600 v. Chr.): Kulturelle Interferenzen in der zirkumpontischen Zone und Kontakte mit ihren Nachbargebieten, Prähistorische Archäologie in Südosteuropa 30, Rahden/Westf., 215–223.

Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone  

Figures

Fig. 1: Early silver objects from Greece. 1–7 Alepotrypa cave (Mani Peninsula); 8 Amnissos (Crete); 9–10 Peristeria “Cave of Euripides” (Salamis); 11 Tsepi (Attica), Grave 19. 1–10 redrawn by M. Kostoula after Dimakopoulou 1998, 64f. nos. 62–66; 11 after Pantelidou-Gofa 2005, pl. 21, 7 (courtesy of M. Pantelidou-Gofa). Scale 2:3

  Joseph Maran

Fig. 2: Silver discs with three bosses. 1 Štramberk (Czech Republic); 2 Vanovice (Czech Republic). 1–2 redrawn by M. Kostoula after Lichter 2010, 383 no. 353 and Malach/Štrof 2013, 22 fig. 5. Scale 1:3.

Attica and the Origins of Silver Metallurgy in the Aegean and the Carpatho-Balkan Zone  

Fig. 3: Silver twin ring pendants. 1–2 Tiszalúc-Sarkad (Hungary), Grave B2. Photography courtesy of L. Szende, Hungarian National Museum Budapest. Scale 1:1.

Fig. 4: Silver bracelet and beads. 1–2 Haramiyskata cave (Bulgaria). 1–2 after Borislavov/Vălčanova 2017a, 16 (courtesy of H. Vălčanova and B. Borislavov). Scale ca. 2:3.

Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach Abstract: It has been customary in recent times to study the cultural variation and regional diversity of Mycenaean Attica on two different scales: either at a micro-scale level (by examining connections between specific object categories, or traditions and innovations within specific categories, e.g. Attic ceramic forms and wares) or at a macro-scale level (by examining the impact of external cultural developments, such as the spreading of cultural influences from Crete to Attica). Surprisingly, one of the most useful areas of analysis, the meso-scale approach (i.e. the use of a broadly-based comparative approach to the study of cultural variation within Attica) has been more or less assumed rather than properly investigated and utilized. The purpose of this paper is to undertake such an assessment by reviewing the cultural expression and inter-relationships as exemplified in the archaeological record, within a framework of controlled comparison. The method proposed here demands that the geographical units through which the archaeological data is presented are rational and practicable ones: their definition is the first task undertaken. These units are termed ‘mesoregions’. In the second part of the paper the cultural variation within these newly established mesoregions is studied: a roughly diachronic cultural development of Mycenaean Attica is deduced from these data.

 The Need for a Broader Geographical Framework Compared to the large number of studies concerning cultural variability (regional differences in sites distinguished on the dominant values, beliefs and attitudes of local groups of people) in ancient -meaning Archaic to Roman- Attica, among which the  I consider it a deep honour and a great privilege to contribute an essay to a volume celebrating the outstanding academic achievements of Vasileios Petrakos: my mentor and the source of constant support and encouragement in my research for nearly 30 years. I am very grateful and indebted to him: especially for challenging me to look beyond the obvious, to take a more holistic view of the issues and to strive and complete projects once started. I am grateful to Jack Davis and Jeremy Rutter for reading an earlier version of this paper and for providing me with helpful comments and advice. For several discussions, exchanges of information and precious opportunities for seeing material, I warmly thank Elina Kardamaki, Joseph Maran, Mark Munn, Katerina Petrou, Florian Ruppenstein, Maria Sakellaraki and Maria Stathi. As so often, I am once again very much indebted to Vyron Antoniadis for preparing the maps in figs. 1–3. Finally, I thank Don Evely for his patience in correcting my English. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-011

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos honoree’s influential work in understanding the mechanisms behind the function of the Attic demes is the factor most responsible in inspiring this article, cultural variation in Mycenaean Attica (fig. 1) is but poorly known. The same holds true when one contrasts the more developed and related studies concerning the Mycenaean regions of the Peloponnese, Central Greece and Crete with those of Mycenaean Attica. There are very few who would question the existence of both interaction between the different localities within Mycenaean Attica, as well as that of regional diversity. The relationships between groups of people within Attica reflect dynamic cultural interactions of considerable magnitude. This impression is manifested from the thorough study of the Attic Mycenaean decorated pottery.1 Regional diversity is also equally evident. The huge amount of published archaeological data from Attica during the Mycenaean period is crucial for understanding its internal cultural variation. This situation has been made abundantly clear by the evidence recently and usefully reviewed and summarized by Santo Privitera2: an archaeological data base now exists, sufficient for studying cultural relationships or variations within Mycenaean Attica.

Fig. 1: Locations of most important Mycenaean Sites in Attica mentioned in text. Map: Vyron Antoniadis.

 1 Stubbings 1947; Benzi 1975; Mountjoy 1999, 485–635. 2 Privitera 2013.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

But this same review has also shown that the archaeological record is sometimes so complex that it is necessary to define more precisely the factors held to be responsible when describing cultural variation through time and across space. To what extent is a relationship or variation of some sort due to environmental conditions and to what extent is such an occurrence produced by the cultural level in play. Two examples can illustrate this question. With the phenomena of the Mycenaean tumuli at Vranas and of the Mycenaean L-shaped graves of the west-cemetery of Eleusis: are we dealing simply with slight regional variations due to the separate geographical areas or are we observing major cultural differences within Mycenaean Attica? Can, in contrast, a common appearance of chamber-tomb cemeteries both in the Athens basin and in the plain of Mesogaia argue that Athens and the Mesogaia were more closely interrelated than other subregions, even perhaps to the extent “that there is a cultural divide between Athens and very roughly the Mesogeion on the one side, and a circle of major towns to the North and to the South”?3 The question here then is, in other words, to what extent does geography influence the decision to use a particular grave form and not another? To answer this, we need to know considerably more about the geographical variations of funerary architecture, and their causes. In order to sensibly read any archaeological record, we need to create a model of the nature of the related cultural history responsible for the same archaeological record. Rather than merely enumerate traits which indicate either a relationship or a variation of some sort in this paper, I will provide a synthesis based on a geographical basis, which seeks to examine systematically the matter of cultural variability in Mycenaean Attica through space and time. The method proposed here is based on the premise that the organization of archaeological data should be done on the basis of reasonable and manageable geographical units. These units are termed ‘mesoregions’. The term is used for two reasons: (a) because the unit in question holds, as far as its dimensions are concerned, a middle position somewhere between the ‘region’ (in our case the whole Attica) and the ‘microregion’ (the natural environment of a specific site/location), (b) in order to avoid the term ‘district’ which evokes a special reference to the (16) palatial districts of Pylos, as they are mentioned in the Linear B archive from the Messenian palace and therefore imply an administrative character,4 which in our cases is not given from the outset of the discussion.

 3 Mee/Cavanagh 1990, 241. 4 E.g. Bennet 2017.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos

 Past Attempts and the Application of the ‘Mesoregion’-Concept in Attica . Past Attempts In his discussion of the cults of Attica, Severin Solders suggested in 1931 the peninsula’s broad geographical division into five “Bezirke” (excluding Salamis) based on its natural subdivision by mountains.5 According to Solders, the first “Bezirk” can be called ‘Central Attica’, it begins in the N at Dekeleia and extends South as far as Vouliagmeni (ancient Zoster). This unit is also called the plain of Athens or the Pedion. In the S, Hymettos separates the Pedion from the Mesogaia plain. The second “Bezirk” is called ‘Transhymettian Attica’ by Solders. Its main feature is the plain of the Mesogaia, which is framed to the S by the mountains of Merenta, Keratea and Olympos. In the N, Hymettos and Penteli create the borderline. The third “Bezirk” is the southernmost part of Attica. The fourth “Bezirk” is NE Attica. It is the area to the NE of Penteli and comprises mainly Marathon, Rhamnous and Aphidna. The fifth “Bezirk” is the Thriasian or Eleusinian plain with Phyle and the Plain of Eleutherai. Salamis would become the sixth “Bezirk”. Geographical criteria were also used by Jere M. Wickens in his 1986 dissertation. But Wickens was mainly interested in the diachronical use (Neolithic to Roman) of caves and for this reason mountains played the decisive role in his work, too. He divides Attica into eight parts: “NW Attica, Parnis, Eleusis-Aigaleos, Athens-Peiraeus, Pendeli, Marathon, NE Attica, Hymettos and Southern Attica”.6 The geographical division of most studies over the past decades were based on the political boundaries of the Cleisthenic demes, as defined especially by John S. Traill in the 1970s and 1980s.7 These are, understandably, very detailed subdivisions of Attica.8 However, for obvious methodological reasons it is not sound to transfer them back to such an early timeframe as concerns the present study. This does not imply that there was not a finer regionalism as early as the second half of the 2nd millennium –maybe one even similar to the later demes– but at present it is not possible to prove this.

 5 Solders 1931, III–IV with map. Almost identical: Phialon 2011, 135–141; Papadimitriou 2017, fig. 2; Papadimitriou/Cosmopoulos 2020, 373f. fig. 1. 6 Wickens 1986a, table 1. 7 Traill 1975; Traill 1986. 8 Bintliff 1994, 233 fig. 36; Fachard 2016, 201.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

. Geographical Division of Attica Based on the Mesoregional Concept In this article and complementary to the usual geographical division of Attica based mainly on the location of its mountains, another natural feature, that of the rivers, will be used as an additional criterion. Rivers (at least major rivers) –besides their function as a source of water– played an important role as natural borders in marking political territories of past societies. This is evidenced both in the Classical period, exemplified by recumbent river Gods placed in the corners of the politically-motivated (West) pediment of the Parthenon,9 but also in the Mycenaean period.10 In this context it should be emphasized that Arthur Milchhöfer long ago recognized, in the case of north-eastern Attica, that the key factor for understanding the topography and the settlement pattern was the hydraulic system of the Pentelikon (= ‘five mountains’, ancient Vrilisos).11 The following definitions of the proposed 20 mesoregions (fig. 2) are to be considered as working hypotheses, basically compiled from Milchhöfer’s superb topographical comments made on the Karten of Attika of the late 19th century,12 supplemented by remarks made in 1952 by Alfred Philippson in his thorough synthesis about ‘Attika und Megaris’,13 with some of my own observations included:

..

The Megarid

The area is framed in the SW by the Geraneia range with the legendary Skironian Rocks (Kakia Skala) in their SE foothills,14 in the NW by the Corinthian Gulf, in the N by Mt. Kithairon, in the NE and E by the Pateras range with Mt. Trikeraton or Kerata, and in the S by the Saronic Gulf.15 The economy of the Megarid was probably based on stock breeding.16 This mesoregion is ‘amphithalassos’ like Corinth, with the port

 9 Schultz 2019, 103 fig. 5.13. 10 E.g. in the case of Alpheios, s. Nikolentzos/Lambropoulos 2018. 11 Milchhöfer 1889b, 33: ‘Die hydrographischen Verhältnisse des Pentelikon sind nicht nur maßgebend gewesen für die Verkehrsverbindungen zwischen Süd und Nord … auch die Stätten antiker, mittelalterlicher wie moderner Besiedelung erscheinen fast regelmäßig durch jene Wasserläufe vorgezeichnet’. 12 Milchhöfer 1883a; 1883b; 1883c; 1889a; 1889b; 1895a;1895b; 1895c; 1900. 13 Philippson 1952. 14 This 7 km-long narrow pass between Kineta and Megara is connected with the triumph of Theseus over Skiron, apparently a personification of the dangerous northern winds (Philippson 1952, 946). 15 Wickens 1986a, 18; Baziotopoulou-Valavani 2008, 206 fig. 324 (Trikeraton). 16 Baziotopoulou-Valavani 2008, 206.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos

Fig. 2: Map of Attica indicating the proposed 20 mesoregions. Map: Vyron Antoniadis.

of Agios Georgios (A 93A)17 in the Saronic Gulf, identified usually as Nisaia,18 and the ports of Pagai (Kato Alepochori) (A 92A) and Aigosthena (Porto Germeno) on the Corinthian Gulf with its coastal valley. The important hill of Palaiokastro (A 94), once perhaps an ‘island’ because of the surrounding marsh, was probably ancient Minoa. Minoa/Palaiokastro, which has a good view across Megara (A 93) and Salamis,19 was in later times connected by Pausanias (I.44.3) with the Cretan fleet. The coastal road of the mesoregion is important because it connects Megara, which is now completely built over, with Eleusis and thus Attica with the Peloponnese.20

 17 The alphanumeric labels given in brackets after the sites refer to Richard Hope Simpson and Oliver Dickinson’s Gazetteer (Hope Simpson/Dickinson 1979). 18 Phillipson 1952, 946; Hope Simpson/Dickinson 1979, 74. For the location of Agios Georgios in relation to the now silted-up harbour of Nisaia, see Goette 2001, fig. 91. 19 Goette 2001, 311. 20 Milchhöfer 1900, 40; Philippson 1952, 947.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

..

The Plain of Eleusis

The plain of Eleusis (or Thriasian plain), an irregular square ca 12 km from W to E and 7 km from N to S, is framed in the W by the Pateras range, in the N by Mt. Parnes and in the E by Mt. Aigaleos.21 At the S, it forms one of the most enclosed and best protected harbours in Greece, since the island of Salamis almost perfectly closes its southern bay.22 Three main streams flow into the plain, which, however, are not as wide or deep as to significantly divide the plain up and it therefore retains the impression of a single unit: the ancient Kephissos river (or Sarantapotamos) in the W, the Koritzas river in the middle and the Gouras (or Yannoulas) river in the E flowing down from Chasia.23

..

The Corridor Region Between the Aigaleos-Parnes Mts. and the Kephissos River

This corridor-like mesoregion is divided into a northern and a southern part. The northern part is framed to the N by Dekeleia (F 55) and the line between Parnes and Penteli. The pass of Katsimidi and the threshold of Katiphori connects this mesoregion to the plain of Aphidna.24 From the plain of Dekeleia there is a good view to the upper Kephissos region, Athens and the Saronic Gulf.25 In the NW, the region is bordered by Mt. Parnes (1410 m). The eastern border of this northern section is the river Kephissos. The southern part is bordered in the W by Mt. Aigaleos (divided into Mt. Korydallos in the S and Mt. Poikilon in the N), which separates this region from the Eleusinian or Thriasian plain. The eastern border is again the river Kephissos. The southern area of this strip must have extended from Pyrgos, Kato Liossia, Kamatero and Agia Varvara as far as the Halipedon (N of the Piraeus, modern Moschato).26 The most important site of this mesoregion is Menidi (F 4). Located E of the plain of Ano Liossia, where the pass to the Eleusinian plain is situated (so called ‘Dema pass’),27 Menidi is a pivotal site controlling communication and trade with the W and the N.

 21 Philippson 1952, 860. 22 Philippson 1952, 864; Goette 2001, 273. 23 Philippson 1952, 861; Langdon 1994, 52 fig. 1. 24 Philippson 1952, 873; Platonos-Yota 2004, 363. 25 Milchhöfer 1895a, 3. 26 Philippson 1952, 875f. 27 Langdon 1994, fig. 1 (map with location of Menidi/Acharnai, Ano Liossia and Dema pass).

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos ..

The Main Area of the Athenian Plain and Mounichia

This mesoregion (fig. 3) is framed in the W by the Kephissos river, in the E by Hymettos, in the N by the Chalandri river and the northern part of Tourkovounia (ancient Anchesmos)28 and to the S it runs as far as the southern end of Hymettos in Mavrovouni, where the pass to the valley of Vari is located.29 It comprises the following three sub-mesoregions (from N to S): Sub-mesoregion 4a: The Northern Athenian Plain or the Tourkovounia and Upper Ilisos Area: This is the area bordered in the N by the Chalandri river and in the S by the Ilisos river. It could also be called the Tourkovounia and upper Ilisos area.30 It comprises the following five microregions: Microregion 4a1: the area E and NE of Tourkovounia (today: Ambelokipoi); microregion 4a2: the oblong valley on the western foothills of Hymettos framed to the N by the hills of Tsakos and Agios Ioannis Kynegos and to the S by the hill of Korakovouni (modern demes: Agia Paraskevi and Cholargos),31 which overlooks the northern plain of Athens32 and where another cave with Mycenaean occupation was discovered (Korakovouni I);33 microregion 4a3: a smaller unit comprising mainly the plain between Tourkovounia and Lykabettos (today: Leoforos Alexandras); microregion 4a4: the oblong area to the North of Pedion tou Areos, framed to the E by the Tourkovounia and to the W by the river Kephissos (Patisia); and finally microregion 4a5: the Eridanos-region, i.e. the area between Eridanos and Ilisos,34 dominated by the Acropolis of Athens.35 From here one has a good view towards Aegina and the Saronic Gulf. Sub-mesoregion 4b: The Southern Athenian Plain and the Long ‘Ramp-Plain at the Foot of Hymettos’:36 The southern Athenian plain I define as the area bordered in the N by the Ilisos river and in the S by the southern end of Hymettos (from modern Pangrati in the N to Vouliagmeni in the S). It comprises three microregions: microregion 4b1:  28 Judeich 1931, 43 n. 1. 29 This mesoregion is not identical with the classical Pedion, for a definition of which see Judeich 1931, 43–47. 30 Milchhöfer 1883b, 19. The Ilisos river (now completely covered over) flows from the area of Agios Ioannis Theologos on Hymettos (today a border between Cholargos and Papagou). 31 Milchhöfer 1883b, 21. 32 Wickens 1986b, 185. 33 Wickens 1986b, no. 34. 34 Pantelidou 1975, 22 n. 1; Benvenuti 2014, 199. The Eridanos river originates on Mt. Lycabettus and flows down to Ilisos near Kephissos (Dörpfeld 1888, 215 pl. 6; Benvenuti 2014, 201 n. 4). 35 Privitera 2013, 58–72 no. 1.1. 36 I am using here Philippson’s definition ‘lange Rampenebene am Fuß des Hymettos’ (Philippson 1952, 873).

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

the Athens-Palaio Faliro area, with the chamber-tomb cemetery of Palaio Faliro (F 13); microregion 4b2: the area of the Hymettian marble quarries (Kakorema, Kareas), with the Sanctuary of Zeus on Hymettos (F 14),37 and microregion 4b3: the coastal 9 kmlong western strip extending from Agios Kosmas (F 16)38 to Vouliagmeni (F 19).39 Several remata (streams) coming from Hymettos form the valleys of Trachones (F 15), Chasani and Pirnari (F 17). In the S, at Voula, the chamber-tomb cemetery of Alyki (F 18) is most important.40 This sub-mesoregion ends in the naturally protected Bay of Vouliagmeni (F 19)41 (ancient Zoster), which seems to have been an ideal place for a harbour. Sub-mesoregion 4c: The Piraeus-Mounichia Region: Recent palaeographical studies42 have shown that during the Neolithic period Piraeus was an island. In the second millennium the northern Piraeus area was definitely influenced by the sediments deposited by the Kephissos river and the currents of Korydallos, forming swampy areas well-known in antiquity as ‘Halmyris’ and the ‘Halipedon’43 (= modern deme of Nikaia). It is, therefore, quite possible that the Piraeus area was separated from the ancient Cholargos-Menidi-Dekeleia strip and geographically closer connected to Salamis and the Athenian plain. If this is correct, then the former area extended as far as the modern demes of Peristeri, Agia Varvara and Korydallos.

 37 Privitera 2013, 99f. no. 5. 38 Privitera 2013, 110–113 no. 11. 39 Milchhöfer 1889a, 17. 40 Milchhöfer 1883b, 29f. The location of these sites is indicated in Eliot 1962, 18 fig. 1. The location of the Alyki tombs is marked with the letter ‘B’ (ibid.); see also Yannopoulou-Konsolaki 1990, 11 fig. 1 (‘Αλυκή’). 41 Privitera 2013, 118 no. 13. 42 Vandarakis et al. 2020, 35 fig. 5, A. 43 von Eickstedt 1991, 2 n. 7–8 fig. 1; Vandarakis et al. 2020, 35–37 with n. 19 fig. 5, B.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos

Fig. 3: Map showing mesoregion 4: the main area of the Athenian Plain and Mounichia. Map: Vyron Antoniadis.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

..

The Plain Between Kalyvia, Koropi and Vari or the Varkiza-Vari Plain

This fertile, grain-growing region44 is known as the ‘Varkiza-Vari’ plain (Varkiza in the S, Vari in the N).45 The acropolis of Kiapha Thiti in the N of the valley (‘Kitsi’ in the Hope Simpson and Dickinson’s Gazetteer) controlled the fork leading to Lavrion and the Mesogaia.46 The plain of Koropi (the Lambrika Plain) is closely related to this mesoregion since three passes connect it with Vari.47 In the S lies the plain of Varkiza (F 20),48 with the Kamini hill at its northwestern edge.49 At the W end lies the hill of Agios Ioannis.

..

The Three Plains of Anavyssos, Phoinikia and Olympos with Mt. Olympos in the Centre

Most important here50 is the natural bay of Agios Nikolaos (F 23),51 which lies c. 1.5 km W of Anavyssos Alykes. Geographically, the isolated plain of Metropisi in the N was most likely related to this mesoregion.52

..

The Small Coastal Plains of the Lavrion Region

The region of Lavrion (or Lavriotiki) forms a natural unit, since it is bordered in the W and NW by the plains of Anavyssos, Metropisi and Keratea53 and in the E and S by the sea. The area is extremely important from a metallurgical point of view, rich as it is in minerals and ore deposits, and the debris of their working. Mining and smelting techniques were developed at least as early as the Chalcolithic/Final Neolithic period.54 Evidence derives mainly from pieces of litharge, material discarded during the process of extracting silver from lead ore. Most important is the site of Thorikos with the hill of Velatouri (= ‘Viglatouri’ = Watchtower) overlooking Kea and Makronisos (F 27).55 Many

 44 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 2002, 48 fig. in the middle. 45 Milchhöfer 1889a, 13; Eliot 1962, 38 fig. 3. 46 Lauter 1996, 7. 47 Milchhöfer 1889a, 14; Eliot 1962, fig. 4. 48 Privitera 2013, 118f. no. 14. 49 Polyhronakou-Sgouritsa 1988, 4 plan 3 (location of Kamini). 50 Milchhöfer 1889a, 18; Eliot 1962, fig. 6 (Phoinikia), fig. 7 (Olympos and Agios Nikolaos). 51 Lohmann 1993, 60 fig. 5; 501 (An 17) pl. 2, 64.4, 68.1–2. 52 On the plain of Metropisi, see Eliot 1962, 112–116. 53 Milchhöfer 1889a, 22. 54 Davis 2008, 200; Maran, in this book. 55 Milchhöfer 1889a, 26.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos small natural bays (potential ports) lie to the S (Panormos, Pascha Limani, Sounion) and SW (the dry coastal plain of Legrena and the smaller plains of Charakas and Agia Photeini) of Thorikos.56

..

The Upper Plain of Keratea

This mesoregion occupies an intermediate position between the Lavrion area in the S and the plain of Mesogaia in the N. To the E lies the promontory of Kaki Thalassa at Agios Panteleimon (F 28), probably the port of this region.

.. The Plain of the Mesogeia The Erasinos river (Milchhöfer’s ‘Bach von Vraona’) roughly divides the plain into a northern and a southern part: a) The Fertile Northern Plain of the Mesogeia57 is bordered in the W and N by the chain of hills of Kontra Barde, Liopesi,58 Myrteza, Bourani and Pyreza, in the E by the Gouri Lachi-Zagani chain and in the S by the Vraona river (Erasinos).59 The most important site here in the Shaft Grave and the Early Mycenaean period was Brauron (F 38).60 b) The Southern Plain of Mesogeia is bordered in the N by the Erasinos river, in the E by the Perati hills, the deep bay of Porto Raphti and the Koroni peninsula, and in the S by the Maurinora–Merenta–Paneion mountains.61 Since the plain is open to the SW and exits to the Saronic Gulf, it is not improbable that the region of modern Lagonisi also belonged to this plain.62 As the hinterland of this coastal area I understand mainly the areas of Angelissi and Merenta, which lie E of modern Markopoulo,63 and the valley of Ziorti to the NE.

 56 Milchhöfer 1889a, 26–31; Eliot 1962, 128 fig. 8; Lohmann 1993, fig. 2 pl. 60.1–2, 63.1 (Charakas); 61.3 (Ag. Photeini); Salliora-Oikonomakou 2004, fig. 30 (Limani Pascha). 57 On Mesogeia see Philippson 1952, 815–22. 58 Privitera 2013, 127 no. 21. 59 Milchhöfer 1889a, 2–8. 60 Privitera 2013, 147–150 no. 33. 61 Milchhöfer 1889a, 7. 62 Milchhöfer 1889a, 9–10. 63 Privitera 2013, 125–127 no. 20.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

.. The Coastal Plain of Loutsa This coastal mesoregion is framed in the W and N by the hills of Zagani–Guri Lachi– Platychorapho and in the S by the hills of Kamariza.

.. The Crossroads Region Between Hymettos and Penteli The northernmost point of Hymettos is called Stavros. In his description of the area Milchhöfer was impressed: “Es beginnt unmittelbar östlich ein neues Reich”.64 To the same mesoregion belongs Gerakas and Charvati (Pallene) (F 43).65 Both sites are related to two streams: Gerakas to the river flowing from Moni Pentelis to Raphina, and Pallene (Charvati) to the river flowing from Pyreza (Penteli) down to Raphina.

.. The Megalo Rema River System The Valanaris river is the important feature in this mesoregion. It flows through Draphi, Pikermi and Etosi down to Megalo Rema and Raphina (F 45).66 The most important sites of the 2nd millennium BC are the chamber-tomb cemetery of Pikermi (F 47),67 the hill of Etosi and Raphina (F 45). S of Raphina lies Askitario (F 46),68 which seems to have been important in the LH IIA period.

.. The Western Penteli River System This region is bordered in the N by the Kokkinaras river, which flows into the Kephissos river, and in the S by the Chalandri river, which also flows into the Kephissos river. Important modern sites are: Kephissia, Koukouvaounes, Marousi (ancient Athmonon), fertile Chalandri (ancient Phlya), Kalogreza and Nea Ionia.

 64 Milchhöfer 1883c, 35. 65 Milchhöfer 1883c, 36. 66 Privitera 2013, 151f. no. 34. 67 Privitera 2013, 152 no. 36. 68 Privitera 2013, 151 no. 35.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos .. The Region Between the Eastern Penteli River System and the Charadros River in the Plain of Marathon (F 49) The important, 30 km-long Charadra or Charadros river flows from Mt. Parnes (at a place called ‘Karavola’) down the whole northeastern line of Attic hills (Diakria), crossing Kiourka, Aphidna, Charadra –or Lake Marathon (‘Limni tou Marathona’)– and Ninoi. In 1884/85, according to Hauptmann M. von Eschenburg, the Charadros river was in some places almost 100 m wide.69 Due to its relatively long distance, it is more reasonable to suggest that the river either formed the border of two mesoregions or was shared by two mesoregions across a border. Thus, the mesoregion in question is bordered in the E by the Charadros river, in the N by the mountains of Kotroni and Aphoresmos, and in the S by Mt. Agrieliki. Three smaller areas (microregions) can be separated here from N to S: microregion 14a: the valley of Vranas, which lies between Kotroni and Agrieliki; microregion 14b: the southern and southwestern part, with Brexisa as its S end, and microregion 14c: a 7 km-long coastal strip, from Brexisa (in the N) to Raphina (in the S).70 This is the area of the rivers of Gerotsakouli and Xylokeriza, where the sites of Agios Andreas (modern) and Nea Makri are located. In the ravine of Rapentoza, W of Xylokeriza, wild boars were still abundant in 1889.71

.. The Region Between the Charadros River and the Plain of Limiko (Rhamnous) The area is framed in the W by the Charadros river, in the N by the mountains of Stavrokoraki and Schelki, and in the E by the hills of Drakonera. This mesoregion can be divided into three microregions: microregion 15a: the fertile plain of the modern village of Marathon; microregion 15b: the plain of Kato Souli, between Stavrokoraki, Schelki and Drakonera, and microregion 15c: the plain of Limiko to the N with the site of Rhamnous at its northern edge.72

.. The Upper Plateau of Kiourka with Aphidna This is a large, very fertile plain lying between the mountains of Parnes, Penteli and Grammatiko. It is bordered in the N by the mountains of Mavrinora, in the W by Mt.

 69 von Eschenburg 1886, 2: “Ich habe den Bach im Verlauf von sieben Monaten als rieselnden Quell und als reissenden Gebirgsstrom in der Breite von fast 100 m gesehen”. 70 Milchhöfer 1889b, 40. 71 Milchhöfer 1889b, 55: “Nur wilde Schweine hausen in den fast unwegsamen Felsgründen”. 72 Milchhöfer 1889b, 42–50; Petrakos 1999, 8–10 fig. 3 and 6.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

Parnes, in the S by the northern Pentelikon region and in the E by the mountains of Dionysos (Ikaria), Aphoresmos and Kotroni. The northern part of the plain is a topographical entity extending from Oinoe’s Charadra (modern ‘Limni tou Marathona’) SN for some 7 km, and from Beletzi in the W as far as E as Kapandriti, in the area of Varnava in the E.73 In 1900 this great plain was occupied by the villages of Kiourka, Mazi, Kapandriti and Liossia. This is a strategic position controlling the roads from Athens to Oropos and from Marathon to Tanagra and Boeotia.74 East of Stamata the fertile plain of Koukounarti with a small river and a spring is located.75 To the W lies the small plain of Mygdaleza. The second region, which is very rich in water, is the area of Sourati, some 1.5 km to the N.

.. The Oropia This coastal area is defined in the W and NW by the Asopos river (connecting Tanagra in the W and with Dramesi in the NW), in the N by the southern Euboean Gulf (Lefkandi), in the E by Cap Kalamos (towards Rhamnous) and in the S by the Maurinora mountains (plain of Aphidna). It consists of several coastal plains and valleys, the most important of them being the valleys of Kakosalesi and Skala Oropou (F 57).76 Extensive mountain slopes suggest pasturage conditions,77 although maritime trade must have played an important role at least during the Mycenaean period.78

.. The Skourta Plain In the Attic-Boeotian borderland, the areas surrounding the Skourta plain (c. 12 × 4 km) consists of mountains.79 The southern border is Megalo Vouno, the northern limit is Mt. Kithairon.80 The most important site is Panakton in the W.81 The Bathesa river flows toward the plain of Kakosalesi and the Oropia.82 This upland plain is more or less oriented to the N.

 73 Milchhöfer 1900, 14f. 74 Milchhöfer 1889b, 60. 75 Milchhöfer 1889b, 57. 76 Milchhöfer 1900, 16–26; Petrakos 1968, fig. 1 (map with location of Kakosalesi, Skala Oropou, cap Kalamos and Rhamnous). 77 Fossey 1988, 41. 78 Cosmopoulos 2001, 73. 79 Munn 1989, 232 with fig. 4. 80 Milchhöfer 1900, 31. 81 Munn 1989, 233–237. 82 Milchhöfer 1900, 30.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos .. The Plain of Eleutherai and Oinoe Some 4 km SW of the Skourta plain lies that of Eleutherai and Oinoe. This region is bordered in the N by Mt. Kithairon, in the W by the mountains of Pateras and Karydis, in the S by Mt. Kerata and in the E by Megalo Vouno.83 Several passes connect this mesoregion to the N and to the coastal valley of Aigosthena (Porto Germeno): 1) through Vilia, an important ‘Dervenochori’ (= pass-village), 2) through the pass of ‘Dryos Kephalai’ NW of Kasa (Eleutherai) on the Mt. Stravaetos,84 3) through Hysiai (Kryekouki) to Thebes, and 4) through Palaiavilla to Plataiai.

.. Salamis Geographically, this mesoregion can be divided into three parts: a) The Main Northern Plain of Salamis. Most important is the bay of Limiona (or Koulouria or Selinia). From here communication is possible to all parts of the island: connection to Ambelakia in the E, to the bay of Paloukia in the N but also to Boudoron further W, which lies opposite of the Nisaia bays (the Megarid).85 b) The Southeastern Part of Salamis. The small coastal plains of the bays of Kaki Vigla, Perani and Peristeria dominate the landscape. The most important of these is the southernmost coastal plain of Peristeria, oriented towards Aegina (and to western Attica).86 c) The Southwestern Part of Salamis. The most important area is the coastal plain of Kanakia oriented to the Corinthia and the NE Peloponnese.87 Kanakia is the only place in Salamis with natural springs; here, too, is the only river of the island, already mentioned by Strabo: the Bokaros river.88

 83 Milchhöfer 1895a, 15. 84 Milchhöfer 1900, 35–39. 85 Milchhöfer 1895c, 35f. 86 Milchhöfer 1895c, 36. 87 Milchhöfer 1895c, 36. 88 Milchhöfer 1895c, 36.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

 Archaeological Record . The Megarid Located in a buffer zone, the few archaeological data available until now indicate some importance attached to this large mesoregion during the early Mycenaean period. Some of the published pottery found at Minoa can be dated to the later phase of the Shaft Grave period, such as the ring-stemmed ‘Dark’ Minyan Goblet.89 A beautiful LH I (?) Vapheio cup (with an ancient mending by means of clamps) is also reported from Megara itself.90 It is hoped that new evidence over the next few years will help to improve our rudimentary understanding of this mesoregion.

. The Plain of Eleusis The most important Mycenaean site here is Eleusis (F 9) itself.91 Apart from Eleusis, Mycenaean finds are also known from Skaramangas (F 8), the small plain opposite Salamis. Located close to the sea with access to the large alluvial Thriasian plain (350 km2 of flat land with the benefit of the three river-system),92 it comes as no surprise that Eleusis, a place which offered high agricultural potential was continuously occupied during the 2nd millennium BC. The expansion and elaboration of the so-called ‘West Cemetery’ during the Shaft Grave period is generally understood as reflecting population growth and social stratification. The West Cemetery was a necropolis on level ground, where the tombs were laid out in clusters, possibly representing large family groups. During LH I, a growth of the settlement in Eleusis can also be proven.93 Along with this expansion over the S and E slopes of the Acropolis came also the emergence of a warrior aristocracy: a warrior elite grave found in the area of the later Telesterion, beneath the so called ‘Philonian Stoa’ (‘Grave E III.6’)94 attests to this. Grave type and burial-goods repertoire strongly recall a similar warrior grave from Thebes.95 Furthermore, the technique of piercing the boar’s tusk plates in the warrior grave of Eleusis  89 Threpsiadis/Travlos 1934, 51f. fig. 11 no. 3 (?); for Shaft Grave period pottery from Minoa and Pagai stored in the BSA Sherd-Collection see now Philippa-Touchais/Balitsari 2020, 393f. figs 8–9. 90 Loeschcke 1891, fig. on p. 15; Dickinson 1977, 123 n. 9 (CH. VI [6]); Mountjoy 1999, 488 n. 24. 91 Privitera 2013, 100–108 no. 7. 92 Cosmopoulos 2015, 27–33. 93 Cosmopoulos 2014, 449. 94 Mylonas 1932, 54 fig. 119 down (boar’s tusks), fig. 119 top (bone object), fig. 121 (bronze knife); Cosmopoulos 2014, 450. 95 Kassimi-Soutou 1980; Kilian-Dirlmeier 1997, 83.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos is identical with that of the plates on the floor of House E,96 possibly a workshop (‘House of the Artisans’) of the Second Building period in Eutresis,97 dated by Joseph Maran to the Shaft Grave period.98 All this suggests a special connection between the military elite of Eleusis and southern Boeotia during MH III/LH I. The West Cemetery continued to be the cemetery for the Eleusis community for another 300 years (LH IIA–LH IIIB2). Unlike Athens, the community here retained the use of large, shared tombs, built in an L-shape.99 The chamber-tomb appeared, as a form, sporadically in the palatial period, but never gained popularity.100 It is clear, at this point, that the Eleusinian regional system was a stable one. The offerings follow the standard Mycenaean scheme of that time: miniature vases, a feeding bottle, Phifigurines and a necklace of faience beads.101 Another important feature of Eleusis is its elaborate ceremonial tradition. This is attested by the construction of the so-called ‘Megaron B’ in LH IIA on the east side of the Acropolis hill. Research conducted by Michael Cosmopoulos has shown that Megaron B was a long room with a platform/altar at one end and that it was surrounded by a peribolos during LH IIB–IIIA1.102 The construction is therefore plausibly re-interpreted by him as a building of religious function.103 Since the custom of offering Mycenaean figurines in mainland Greece, is, in contrast to Crete, not to be found before LH IIIA1, there is no reason why one should expect them in an LH II context in Eleusis. There is also evidence of an elaborate Minoan or Cycladic-style wall painting-fragment connected with Megaron B, which can be also (stylistically) dated to LH IIB– IIIA1. It shows part of a fine, elongated eye with the face of a life-sized female figure in fresco technique.104 This fragmentary evidence for wall painting is certainly a feature of architectural elaboration that in combination with the ceremonial architecture (peribolos, platform) gives a unique colour to Eleusis in this period. In the following Mycenaean palatial period, there is evidence that the settlement is extended to the E and S; a new extension is attached to Megaron B. That exchange systems existed with the palatial economy of Minoan Crete during LH IIIA2–IIIB1 is clear from a stirrup jar inscribed in Linear B with the indication ‘wa’  96 Varvaregos 1981, 94 pl. VIIβ. 97 Goldman 1931, 52–54, 220 fig. 290. 98 Maran 1992a, 309. 370 fig. 25. 99 Mylonas 1975, II, 226f.; Grave Hπ20 can be used as a characteristic example of these graves: an Lshaped tomb with a very short stomion at one end of a long side. The entrance was dressed with a stone threshold and closed with an upright slab. The tomb was apparently covered with flat slabs. The grave contained at least two burials. Five MH III–LH I pots have been found together with the burials (Papadimitriou 2001, 71 fig. 31d–e). 100 Cosmopoulos 2015, 116. 101 Cavanagh/Mee 1998, 71; Papadimitriou 2001, 72. 102 Cosmopoulos 2003, 8–11, 18. 103 Cosmopoulos 2003, 16–18. 104 Cosmopoulos 2014, I, 92 fig. 90; 442f.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

(which stands for wa-na-ka-te-ro, = royal) found under the Lesser Propylaia in a later, LH IIIC context. This Minoan jar has been plausibly interpreted, at that late date, as an heirloom or prestige object.105 The construction of a ceremonial elite building (Megaron B) in Eleusis probably may be connected to an unusual, for Greece, situation in the availability of a natural resource, namely water. Generally speaking, the most important natural element – the soil’s fertility apart– for an agricultural economy is water. Arguably, because of the rivers in the Eleusinian plain, the dependence of the community was not so much on rainwater, but rather upon irrigation practices, i.e. the supply of water to the land by means of channels. This, in my opinion, would have created a need to ensure efficient irrigation through the conduct of official religious rituals. In this context it is interesting to note that in Megaron B water from the interior of the main room exited via a drain (D1), set next to the sacrificial platform,106 suggesting that water played a key role (agent) in the religious rituals of Mycenaean Eleusis.

. The Corridor Region Between the Aigaleos-Parnes Mts. and the Kephissos River A site of exceptional power within this region had come to the attention of scholars already by the end of the 19th century namely, Menidi (ancient Acharnai).107 Indicative of this power is a fine tholos tomb108 containing six burials with rich offerings including an ivory lyre,109 and four jars imported from the Levant, so-called Canaanite amphorae.110 It is very possible that vases of this sort were initially royal gifts from an “Argive ruler” probably “as symbols of royal favour, to their allies and friends”, as Jeremy Rutter proposes.111 Near Menidi, exists a settlement of the Mycenaean palatial period at the site of Nemesis (F 5) about 1 km away on the left bank of the Athenian Kephissos river, commonly associated with the tholos tomb.112 However, Danielle L. Kellogg113 recently gave an account of Mycenaean remains at the right side of  105 Petrakis 2014. 106 Cosmopoulos 2015, 84 fig. 37. 107 Privitera 2013, 96–99 no. 2. 108 Lolling 1880; Wrede 1934, pl. 8; Platonos-Yota 2004, 112f. fig. 28. 109 Platonos-Yota 2004, 293 colour photo 12α (reconstruction); Konstantinidi-Syvridi/Pliatsika 2020, 487 fig. 5. 110 Benzi 1975, 149–153; Mountjoy 1999, 488. Platonos-Yota 2004, 296 colour photo 17. The finds from Menidi are displayed in the National Museum of Athens. On the phenomenon of the ‘Canaanite jars’ in the Aegean, see Kilian 1988, 127 fig. 4 (distribution); Papazoglou-Manioudaki 2004, 322f. with n. 12–15. 111 Rutter 2014, 65. 112 Privitera 2013, 99 no. 3. 113 Kellogg 2013, 23f. n. 53.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Kephissos at a place called Agia Soteira. Although very little is known about this location, too, its topographic setting (looking over the Athenian plain) argues in favour of the existence of an important settlement there. According to Mountjoy, the Menidi tholos –situated at Lykotrypa/Kokkinos Mylos, 2.5 km S of modern Menidi– was founded during late LH IIIA2 or early LH IIIB.114 But new significance was given to Menidi in 1994, when Merle Langdon drew our attention to a Cyclopean bridge spanning a small watercourse W of Menidi. The bridge is located in the northeastern corner of the Thriasian Plain.115 It comprises a single culvert in the form of a vault built in the manner resembling corbelled construction with the typical triangular opening116 and finds a close parallel in the wellknown Kazarma bridge in the Argolid.117 It lies between two important Mycenaean centres: nearby Menidi to the E, and Eleusis to the SW. According to Langdon, however, a Mycenaean road between these two sites would be rather too roundabout.118 The location of the bridge at the northern edge of the plain and its NW-SE orientation suggest rather another land connection, i.e., to the valley of Eleusinian Sarantapotamos, where the roads to Eleutherai and Thebes (G 23) crossed.119 The existence of this route is also supported by ruts, which Langdon was able to trace; their widths are comparable with the gauges known for Mycenaean chariots.120 In other words: Menidi seems to have been a major corridor for the important palatial centre of Thebes. The western Kephissos corridor and especially the area of the Menidi tholos did not only control the fertile plain stretching to the Kephissos river, but also and most importantly (due to its proximity) the slopes of Mt. Parnes, which are rich in forests and woodland. Consequently, it commanded also the timber resources of Mt. Parnes,121 providing at the same time an ideal hunting terrain for the Mycenaean aristocracy.122 It is worth mentioning that in the 5th century BC Aristophanes characterizes the people from Menidi/Acharnai as producers of charcoal,123 while in Pausanias’ time one could still hunt boars and bears on Mt. Parnes.124 In the NW, the corridor region in question is bordered, as already said, by Mt. Parnes (1410 m), where a cave dedicated to Pan (the so-called Lychnospilia) was used

 114 Mountjoy 1999, 485. 488. 115 Langdon 1994, fig. 1 (marked as ‘Cyclopean bridge’). 116 Langdon 1994, 55 pl. I, 2; II–III; IV, 1. 117 Langdon 1994, 55f. with n. 6; s. also Lohmann 2002, 112–114 fig. 2. 118 Langdon 1994, 56. 119 Langdon 1994, 56f.; Fachard/Knodell 2020, 408, 412. 120 Langdon 1994, 58–60 pl. IV, 2–3. 121 Kellogg 2013, 31. 122 Varvaregos 1981, 95. 123 Ar. Ach. 211–218; 331–334; 609–612; Kellogg 2013, 122f. 124 Pausanias I.32.1.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

in MH and Mycenaean times and apparently also in the LH IIIC period (F 56).125 The cave is located at an inaccessible part at Mt. Talmithi on the eastern bank of the Gouras/Yannoula river, some 4 km north of Chasia.126

. The Main Area of the Athenian Plain and Mounichia Sub-mesoregion 4a: The northern Athenian Plain or the Tourkovounia and the Upper Ilisos Area: The most important area is here microregion 4a5: the Eridanos-region, i.e. the area between Eridanos and Ilisos,127 dominated by the Acropolis of Athens.128 Otherwise Mycenaean occupation is known only from microregion 4a2, from a cave in Korakovouni (fig. 3).129 Archaeologists relatively recently have begun an attempt to understand better the nature of the culture that had produced monuments and artefacts of the Mycenaean period in Athens. The first important effort along these lines was made by Spyros Iakovidis (1962) with his painstaking Mycenaean Acropolis of Athens,130 followed in 1971 by Sara Immerwahr’s systematic presentation of the Mycenaean tombs in the Agora.131 Maria Pantelidou (1975) has synthesized the archaeological data that emerged from the excavations of the Ephoreia in the Lower Town up to 1975 and managed to organize this material into coherent periods based mainly on pottery typologies and traditions.132 This still remains a basic study. 20 years after Pantelidou’s work and 14 years after her own publication of the early Mycenaean vases from the wells from the South Slope of the Acropolis,133 Penelope Mountjoy has reviewed the situation in the core territory of ‘Mycenaean Athens’.134 The conclusion reached by Mountjoy seems appropriate: “Athens was not backward and isolated, as was once thought, but abreast of all the Mycenaean fashions in the same way as the palace centres at Tiryns, Pylos and Mycenae”.135

 125 Wickens 1986b, no. 47. 126 Wickens 1986b, 245–248. 127 See supra, n. 34. 128 Privitera 2013, 58–72. 129 Wickens 1986b, 183–189 no. 34 (“Korakovouni no. 1”); 186: fragments of LH III drinking vessels. 130 Iakovidis 1962/2006. 131 Immerwahr 1971. 132 Pantelidou 1975. 133 Mountjoy 1981. 134 Mountjoy 1995b. 135 Mountjoy 1995b, 9.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos As with the cases of Megara and Eleusis, there is also some ceramic evidence for LH I occupation on the Acropolis136 and good quality domestic material of the Shaft Grave period is known from the North and the South Slopes.137 A cist-grave (Tomb 5) in the South Lower Town with LH I pottery and rock crystal beads recalls –in a modest form– the material of the shaft graves of Mycenae.138 But it was indeed the 15th century BC (LH IIA–B) that was the time of major change for Athens, both within the Acropolis and in its surroundings. High quality LH IIA ceramic finds in the area of the later Agora139 and high-status items,140 such as the LH IIA palatial jars from the still unfortified Acropolis,141 as well as the production of high-quality local ceramic ware, the so-called Acropolis Burnished Pottery142 exported to several other Attic and non-Attic sites143 all indicate a general increase in Athenian activity from the early 15th century BC onwards. The existence of a social group mainly occupied with large-scale pottery production requires a surplus production on the part of the society as a whole to support these craftsmen. This is the context for the early Mycenaean settlement in Athens, a site conveniently located for access to communication networks – especially towards the W: during this period, it seems to have established its own organized cemeteries with the chamber-tomb as the preferred grave type. The two most important cemeteries of LH IIB–IIIA1 are the North Cemetery in the area of the Agora and the South Cemetery at Koukaki. Both cemeteries share a number of common features: first, they consist of chamber-tombs and cists used contemporaneously;144 second, the graves are similar in size and wealth; third, the grave offerings are almost identical in character, including the use of large flat alabastra decorated with rock pattern,145 and in particular tinned kylikes with high-swung handles, as well as shallow bowls.146 This picture is reinforced by the recent discovery of two more LH IIB–IIIA1 chamber-tombs in the

 136 Mountjoy 1995b, 14 n. 26. 137 The carinated cup (Dontas 1971, pl. 37α) has a good parallel in a MH III context in Kiapha Thiti (Maran 1992b, pl. 30 no. 939; 195 n. 402). 138 Pantelidou 1975, pl. 8 (T. 5). 139 Rutter 1975. 140 Weapons from male burials in the Mycenaean Athenian Agora whose bodies show no signs of injuries resulting from combats seem to point also to a hierarchically- structured society (Smith 2009, 107). 141 Mountjoy 1995b, 16 n. 36 fig. 6 bottom left; Kalogeropoulos 1998a, 150f. (‘Athen 1–3’). 142 Pantelidou 1975, 170f.; Mountjoy 1995b, 25; Mavroeidopoulos 2000, 51f. no. 26–27. 143 References in Kalogeropoulos 2019a, 243 notes 166–170. 144 Immerwahr 1978, 478. 145 North Cemetery: Immerwahr 1971, pl. 30 no. 5; South Cemetery: Pantelidou 1975, pl. 38α–β, 40, 41α. 146 North Cemetery: Immerwahr 1971, pl. 35, lower rows. South Cemetery: Pantelidou 1975, pl. 34β– γ, 35, 36α–β, 41β, 43α (cist-graves T. 15–T. 16).

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Agora, near the Stoa of Attalos.147 The existence of a monolithic block reused in a later building (Stoa Basileios), which has been interpreted as lintel from a tholos,148 as well as the appearance of a regular LH II tholos tomb in Thorikos (“tholos III”, see below 3.7) show that the supposed lack of Mycenaean tholoi in Athens was probably due to later building activity and the plundering of stone.149 One of the most striking trends among the Athenian elite in the second part of the early Mycenaean period is an increased interest in stylistic nostalgia. This is a particularly ‘Athenian archaism’,150 combined with a peculiar Minoan stylistic and cultural approach.151 We can exemplify this ‘anachronistic’ trend briefly in the following cases: 1) The use of LH IIA-style palatial jars in a local LH IIB/IIIA1 style. These jars seem to occur mainly in richer LH IIB/IIIA1 graves of the Athenian cemeteries, as evidenced by tomb I (the so-called Tomb of the Ivory Pyxides) in the Agora,152 and from tombs 15153 and 16154 (Odos Veikou 123–125), as well as from a chamber-tomb found by Artemis Onassoglou, in Koukaki, on the southern Ilisos bank.155 That the decoration is limited to the upper half of the body is a late characteristic,156 but the almost standard use of the horizontal syntax, one adopted from the LM IB Unity Decoration Systems,157 is typical of LH IIA and never attested in LH IIB/IIIA1.158 2) As already indicated, tomb I is one of the largest and wealthiest tombs in the North cemetery. The famous large ivory pyxis, which depicts two winged griffins attacking deer and fawns,159 was found standing on the east bench within the chamber. Several stylistic elements recall works of the Shaft Grave period, like the embossed gold plates decorating the hexagon wooden box from Shaft Grave V of Mycenae.160

 147 Camp II 2003, 254–273 (Grave J–K 2:2 and grave K 2:5). 148 Papadopoulos 2003, 291f.; Papadopoulos/Smithson 2017, 36 n. 7. 149 As already has been suggested by Pantelidou 1975, 251f. 150 By the word ‘archaism’ we understand cultural traits which are characteristic of earlier periods, especially during LH I and LH IIA, and no longer current in other regions of mainland Greece during LH IIB/IIIA1. 151 On the relatively strong Minoan influence in Attica during LH IIB/IIIA1, see Sgouritsa 2007, 268– 71. 152 Immerwahr 1971, 162f. nos. I–1 (Argonauts), I–7 (Ogival Canopy) pl. 30–1. 153 Pantelidou 1975, 97 no. 17; 101 pl. 37γ (Ogival Canopy) (of the FS 22 type). 154 Pantelidou 1975, 99 no. 10 pl. 42α (Rock Pattern) (of the FS 26 type). 155 Onassoglou 1979, 35f. no. ΓV, 8 pl. 11β (Spirals) (of the FS 22 type). 156 Kalogeropoulos 1998a, 173f. 157 Kalogeropoulos 1998a, 163–166. 158 The same phenomenon can be also found in the much later Minoanizing Palatial Jars from the palace of Pylos (Kalogeropoulos 1998b, 526 fig. 6b). 159 Langenbucher 2007, 88f. fig. 91; Vassilikou 2019, 417f. figs 259–260. 160 Rehak/Younger 1998, 248 n. 179; Vassilikou 2019, 418.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos 3) The third example is gold jewellery from the very rich tomb 17 in Koukaki which, according to Georg Karo, recalls work of the Shaft Grave period.161 4) The fourth example is the use of wooden biers. Wooden biers, which are attested in tomb XL of the North Cemetery (LH IIIA1),162 are a Minoan Neopalatial phenomenon,163 but they are first used on the Greek mainland to hold corpses in the Shaft Graves of Mycenae.164 The second part of the early Mycenaean period (LH IIB/IIIA1) can be considered an important stage in the development of the above mentioned ‘Athenian archaism’ and should perhaps be understood as a deliberate reference back to the Athenian elite of earlier periods. A smaller cemetery to the W, in the area of the later Kerameikos,165 and large amounts of LH IIB–IIIA1 material from wells and deposits in the area of the later Olympieion to the SE166 determine the approximate limits of the central settlement of Athens during this period. Within this extensive area numerous excavated deposits, mainly wells rich in pottery and artefacts, have been found.167 They indicate that the whole area was in domestic use between LH IIB and LH IIIA1. This is exactly the period (LH IIB/IIIA1) when the material in the wells south of the Acropolis probably accumulated after a disturbance process – probably on the Acropolis itself. Mountjoy suggested, for this reason, the existence of a “LH IIIA1 proto-palace” on the Acropolis.168 Whatever the circumstances, there is evidence of a contemporaneous abandonment and relocation in the area of Makrygianni.169 Unlike the previous period, relatively few burials can be actually dated to LH IIIA2170 and even less to LH IIIB1.171 On the Acropolis, however, the situation seems to be different. Terraces 1–5 can be dated between LH IIIA2 and IIIB1,172 and the published sherds from the hill give the impression that decorated kylikes and stemmed bowls,173 i.e., vessels for drinking and feasting, may have played a crucial role during this period.  161 Karo 1931, col. 213; on the content of the tomb, see Pantelidou 1975, 107–112 pl. 48–49. 162 Immerwahr 1971, 243 with n. 7–12. 163 Muhly 1992, 164. 174. 164 Hägg/Sieurin 1982, 178–180. 165 Pantelidou 1975, fig. 16 (T18–T22). 166 Pantelidou 1975, fig. 16 (Θ9–Θ10, Φ4–Φ6). 167 Pantelidou 1975 (passim); Mountjoy 1981 (South Slope). 168 Mountjoy 1995b, 24. 169 Mavroeidopoulos 2000. 170 Mountjoy 1995b, 37 n. 125. 171 Mountjoy 1995b, 48. 172 Benvenuti 2014, 208 n. 29; Iakovidis 2006, 111–114. 173 Graef/Langlotz 1925, pl. 2 no. 63; pl. 3 no. 87. 90. 201. 203: these were dated by Mountjoy 1995b, 35 n. 114 to LH IIIA2.

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Furthermore, a fortification wall was constructed, all in one go in LH IIIB2 according to Iakovidis,174 who carefully studied and published the few parts of the fortifications remaining. The building of the fortification wall is a dynamic matter because it is in response to changes within the Athenian LH IIIB2-society. What was the reason for constructing this Cyclopean wall? War or status, or both? The evidence is thoroughly discussed by Iakovidis in the context of other Mycenaean fortifications. His view is that the acropolis of Athens is a classic example of a Mycenaean Acropolis, having most of its features in common with the acropolis of Tiryns,175 and that it should rather be understood as a symbol of status established under royal rule, as a means of controlling trade and production.176 Impressive Cyclopean fortifications in general are, of course, also part of a much broader repertoire of aristocratic or royal building measures. In this connection, another feature is striking: the fortification on the Athenian Acropolis was undertaken alongside the construction of the so-called Fountain House, an underground spring, 34.5 m below the fortification wall.177 It is probable that this feature was indeed motivated by the need for defensive measures that arose during LH IIIB2.178 On the other hand, there is no evidence of a conflagration or violent destruction in late LH IIIB2 on the Acropolis of Athens, as witnessed in the other fortified centres of Mycenae, Tiryns or Midea.179 In summary, the archaeological evidence suggests that at the beginning of LH IIIB2 the people of Athens were forced to build a Cyclopean fortress. A special relationship to Tiryns, however, as observed by Iakovidis, deserves closer attention in the future. Do we have the right at all to speak of the existence of a Mycenaean palatial system in Athens? I think we do, since the culmination of the process can be formally recognized with the appearance of the Cyclopean wall on the Athenian Acropolis180 constructed according to Iakovidis in the end of the 13th century BC. Furthermore, the bronze hoard and artefacts of palatial character found on the Acropolis underline this view as I showed elsewhere.181 Politically it is, therefore, clear that at least with the last decades of the 13th century we are dealing with some sort of a ‘king’, the wana-ka in the terminology of the Linear B sources.182

 174 Iakovidis 2006, 113 (“toward the end of the LH IIIB period”); 231 (“LH IIIB2”). 175 Iakovidis 2006, 252. 176 Iakovidis 1999, 202f. Arguments for the existence of a palace on the Acropolis: Iakovidis 2006, 190–196. 177 Broneer 1939; Mountjoy 1993, 132; 1995b, 43f. fig. 55; Iakovidis 2006, 239–243; compare also Wickens 1986b, 346–352 no. 64 (“Acropolis N Cave S”). 178 Desborough 1964, 113. 179 Deger-Jalkotzy 2008, 390. 180 Jung 2016, 566. 181 Kalogeropoulos (in press). 182 Pantelidou 1975, 228.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos There are several indications that the site was destroyed or at least abandoned in LH IIIC Early (North Slope houses, Fountain House).183 However, in contrast to its surrounding area, the Athenian Acropolis was still occupied in LH IIIC, suggesting that there was no break in the importance of the hill during this period. Not only are there no traces of violent events but, according to the picture emerging from the excavation evidence published by Botho Graef and Ernst Langlotz as well as Oscar Broneer,184 the Acropolis apparently flourished during this time. Furthermore, based on the presence of several clay wheel-made bovine figures found on the Acropolis slopes,185 one can assume a cultic function of the hill.186 The bulls connect the cult activities on the Acropolis with those performed in other postpalatial Mycenaean ‘communal sanctuaries’, e.g. in the cult room 117 in Tiryns, in the Cycladic LH IIIC sanctuary of Phylakopi on Melos and in the LH IIIC extra-urban sanctuaries at Amyklaion near Sparta and at Kalapodi/Abai.187 The ‘unusual’ Phi-type figurine from the Acropolis, which seems to reflect a Close Style decoration, perhaps also dates to this phase.188 During LH IIIC Middle, the Acropolis was still surrounded by its older (LH IIIB2) Cyclopean wall, but since there is no substantial evidence of structures inside the Acropolis,189 it is also possible that the hill was more of an open cult place during this phase.

Sub-mesoregion 4b: The Southern Athenian Plain and the Long ‘Ramp-Plain at the Foot of Hymettos’ The sub-mesoregion 4b comprises the southern Athenian plain and the long ‘rampplain at the foot of Hymettos’.190 To the S of Athens, the number of small sites increased during the early palatial period, especially along small rivers (remata). This was the case at the sites represented by the so-called west-coast cemeteries (e.g. Agios Kosmas, Kalamaki, Trachones, Alyki/Voula).191 All these are either new sites

 183 Ruppenstein 2020, 569. 184 References in Mountjoy 1995b, 56 n. 206f. 185 Guggisberg 1996, 67–69; Gauss 2000, 171 with n. 41–3; at least the bovine figurine now in Heidelberg (Guggisberg 1996, fig. 15, 1) can be LH IIIC Middle. 186 The seals found on the Acropolis, now on display in the new Acropolis Museum, also have a cultic function, see Sakellariou 1964, 408–416 nos. 397–404; Sakellarakis 1974, 285f. fig. 1–7. Their exact date, however, is unclear. 187 For references, see Kalogeropoulos (in press). 188 French 1971, 121 fig. 5. This figurine and others of the Phi- and Psi-type (mentioned in French 1971, 171) are now on display in the new Acropolis Museum. 189 Mountjoy 1995b, 55 n. 202. 190 As defined by Philippson (supra, n. 36). 191 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 1988, 1 n. 2–5 (references).

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(Alyki/Voula) or sites re-occupied in LH IIA, as in the case of Agios Kosmas.192 It is worth mentioning that Georgios E. Mylonas’ investigations in Agios Kosmas supplied evidence for purple-dye production during LH II,193 an economic activity attested during this phase also in Kolonna/Aegina.194 The density of settlements along the western coast of Attica during this phase (even if evidence derives mainly from funerary contexts) lasting until LH IIIC Early, i.e. more than 250 years, indicates a certain degree of sociopolitical stability, which in turn implies some kind of effective government. This view is strengthened by the recent discovery at the Phaleron Delta of 14 homogeneously constructed pits. They were filled with pottery mostly of the LH II-IIIA period and animal bones, which may have been built and used by members of the Mycenaean communities, who once occupied the area of the Phaleron bay.195 Regardless of whether these pits were used for water supply, clay extraction or for ritual purposes,196 the system of pit digging reflects a considerable amount of labour force planned and organized by some sort of leadership. Athens would be the most appropriate candidate for such an institution, since we must accept that some degree of political and social centrality had developed in the area around the Acropolis of Athens by LH IIA or LH IIB at the latest. During the final palatial period the west-coast cemetery horizon was still a densely settled area, but in Agios Kosmas197 a possible fortification wall on the S and E edge of the site was built.198 If Mylonas was right and Agios Kosmas was a fortified settlement during LH IIIB2, it may well have had the function of guarding one of the entrances into the Athenian plain, suggesting that the Saronic Gulf was no longer safe for Mycenaean ships coming to Athens. The site of Agios Kosmas is abandoned at the same time as the North Slope Houses in Athens.199 Similarly, the chamber-tomb (or tombs) in Kalamaki,200 which was apparently related to the settlement of Agios Kosmas, was still in use until LH IIIC Early201, but afterwards abandoned. The latest identifiable vases from Trachones are also LH IIIC  192 For a settlement context with a range of storage, cooking and drinking vessels that were in contemporaneous use in Agios Kosmas during LH IIA, see Mylonas 1959, 48–50 fig. 135 no. 59 (mattpainted jar decorated with ivy sprays), no. 69 (cooking pot), no. 71 (matt-painted pithos), no. 72 (semiglobular cup decorated with double axes). This context is associated with the very fragmentary House R and perhaps also House U (Hiesel 1990, 173 fig. 120–121) and suggests an agricultural background. 193 Mylonas 1959, 156. 164 fig. 37. 194 Forstenpointner et al. 2007, 145f. (LH IIIA1, area of the pottery kiln). 195 Kakavakis/Skiadaresi 2020, 53-55 figs 6-9. 196 Kakavakis/Skiadaresi 2020, 55f. 197 In Agios Kosmas Houses S and T are dated to this period; they belong to the type of Hiesel’s Antenhaus, see Hiesel 1990, 39f. fig. 30 (House S); 40f. fig. 31 (House T). 198 Mylonas 1959, 58. 156. 199 Mountjoy 1999, 489. 200 Privitera 2013, 110 no. 10. 201 Lewartovski 1987, 130.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Early202 and in Voula/Alyki (F 18)203 both chamber-tomb cemeteries were abandoned in LH IIIC Early.204

Evidence for Athens’ Control Over Pottery and Flax Production At least by LH IIIB2 Kontopigado near Trachones (fig. 3) had been incorporated within the regional system of Athens. (The site was occupied since LH IIIA1.)205 It was the location of the large-scale production of a wide range of pottery types (table ware, storage jars, bath tubs, vessel associated with cooking, etc.), as is evidenced by the large amount of wasters and remains of a potter’s wheel.206 Analytical work has shown that the cooking vessels were produced only for the Athenian Acropolis and the recently discovered LH IIIB/IIIC Early settlement in Plaka, i.e. they were restricted to local consumers.207 However, the reason that Kontopigado was chosen as a location of habitation was to take advantage of the specific rock-cut features and the watery environment of the microregion for flax processing.208 Kontopigado interacted with Athens on a regular basis, the two sites being visually connected. There is also a special link between craft production and ritual activities,209 which is congruent with Mycenaean economy in general, as known from the Linear B texts.210 The site appears to have been abandoned during the early stages of LH IIIC Early.211

Sub-mesoregion 4c: The Piraeus-Mounichia Region An important natural bay was the Bay of Drapetsona,212 where there is also evidence of a Mycenaean grave.213 Of the three natural ports of Piraeus, only Mounichia (modern Mikrolimano) seems to have been important during the 2nd millennium BC, especially during its first half.214  202 Mountjoy 1999, 489. 203 Privitera 2013, 114–118 no. 12. 204 Benzi 1975, 173–192. 205 Kaza-Papageorgiou/Kardamaki 2018; Kardamaki 2020, 556. 206 Kaza-Papageorgiou et al. 2011, 205 fig. 3 (wasters) 206 fig. 4 (remains of a wheel); Kaza-Papageorgiou/Kardamaki 2012, 194; Kaza-Papageorgiou 2020, 546. 207 Gilstrap 2015, 203; Kaza-Papageorgiou 2020, 547f. 208 Kaza-Papageorgiou et al. 2011, 230. 266. 209 Kaza-Papageorgiou/Kardamaki 2014, 121; Kardamaki 2012/13; Kaza-Papageorgiou 2020, 548. 210 Lupack 2008; Kardamaki 2012/13, 76. 211 Kardamaki 2020, 551 n. 7. 212 Milchhöfer 1883a, 8. 213 Lazaridis 1966, 106. Compare Hope Simpson/Dickinson 1979 ‘Charavgi (F 6)’. 214 Palaiokrassa 1989, 12; 1991, 129 nos Κα1-5 pl. 26a.

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The question where the Athenian harbour was located in Mycenaean times must remain undecided for the time being – the choice lying between the natural ports of Mounichia, Palaio Faliro215 and Vouliagmeni (fig. 3).

. The Plain Between Kalyvia, Koropi and Vari or the VarkizaVari Plain Kiapha Thiti (F 22)216 is here the most important site in the Shaft Grave and Early Mycenaean period. Vourvatsi, situated on the slope of a low hill to the N is the most important LH IIIA–LH IIIC Early cemetery.217 There seems to have been a cave here, in use during the same main periods as the acropolis of Kiapha Thiti and the cemetery of Vourvatsi,218 as well as the cave on Krevati, at the southeast end of Hymettos, with LH IIIB material.219 Several LH IIA–IIIC Early chamber-tombs and pits have been found in Varkiza,220 mainly N of Kamini.221 The hill of Agios Ioannis was perhaps the area of a Mycenaean settlement. The acropolis of Kiapha Thiti has the only securely attested fortification of the Shaft Grave period known in Attica.222 It resembles that of Kolonna/Aegina,223 but is not as wide (the width varies from 2.70 to 6 m) and rather rudimentary. Even so, two towers with internal staircases dominate a ramp of Cyclopean dimensions.224 The pottery of the Shaft Grave period of Kiapha Thiti is very similar to that of Brauron, Athens and Eleusis.225 The archaeological assemblages (mainly pottery) indicate a largely ru-

 215 Kaza-Papageorgiou 2017, 234–236 fig. 7–9. 216 Privitera 2013, 119–123 no. 15. 217 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 2001b, fig. 1 (map); Privitera 2013, 123f. no. 16. 218 Wickens 1986b, 86–88no. 18. 219 Wickens 1986b, 121–125 no. 21 (esp. 123). 220 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 1996, 156f. Especially on the Varkiza cemetery, see PolychronakouSgouritsa 1988, which is the final publication of several excavations conducted in the 1950s, 60s and 70s mainly to the North of the hill of Kamini by the Greek Archaeological Service (D.R. Theocharis [1951, 1953], I. Kontis and V. Petrakos [1960], A. Vavritsas [1968] and P. Themelis [1974]). 221 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 1988, 103–105. 222 Maran 1995, 68; Lauter 1996, Beilage 18. 223 Lauter 1996, 91. 224 Hope Simpson/Hagel 2006, 66. 225 For example: Grey Minyan Goblets with S-profile from Kiapha Thiti (Maran 1992b, 122 pl. 16 no. 532, from a MH III context; pl. 25 no. 78, from a LH I context), occur in the area of the South Slope of the Acropolis in Athens (Demakopoulou 1964, pl. 40a) and in the West cemetery of Eleusis (Mylonas 1975, pl. 143 B 770). A Pale Burnished Cup from a MH III context in Kiapha Thiti (Maran 1992b, 133 pl. 33 no. 1007) occurs on the North Slope of the Acropolis of Athens (Hansen 1937, fig. 7). On the similarities between pottery from Brauron and Kiapha Thiti during the Shaft Grave Period s. Kalogeropoulos 2010, 215–217.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos ral population living mainly at a subsistence level but with some specialization visible in the construction of the fortification (expert builders, workers). In addition, planning for the fortification and the organization of labour suggest that some type of leadership should have also existed. The detailed publication of the LH IIA–IIB/IIIA1 settlement material from Kiapha Thiti, which was still inhabited during this period but was, apparently, not as important as earlier, documents a strong connection to Athens. Exactly as in Athens the two most important wares for this period in Kiapha Thiti are the Acropolis Burnished Ware and Mycenaean Decorated Ware.226 After LH IIB/IIIA1, the fortified acropolis of Kiapha Thiti seems to have declined as a centre of settlement. Its place as a major focus of urban life in this part of Attica was taken by the settlement on the lower slopes of the hill which belongs to the cemetery of Vourvatsi.227 The Kalyvia-Koropi-Vari area is now dominated by the large cemetery of Vourvatsi (F 22), which was continuously used from LH IIIA2 to LH IIIC Early.228 This cemetery may have belonged to the settlement of this period localized recently on the NE and E slopes of Kiapha Thiti.229 The plans and the contexts of the Vourvatsi-tombs are lost, but the burial pottery gives the usual picture of that time: stirrup jars, piriform jars, alabastra, jugs, feeding bottles, flasks, conical and piriform rhyta. To sum up, within the ‘cultural system’ of this mesoregion there is a dynamic situation as demonstrated by the fact that about LH IIB/IIIA1 the upper part of Kiapha Thiti is abandoned and the population concentrates on the lower slopes of the same hill.

. The Three Plains of Anavyssos, Phoinikia and Olympos with Mt. Olympos in the Centre The natural harbour of Agios Nikolaos at Anavyssos (ancient Anaphlystos) seems to have flourished during the whole Middle Helladic period, the Shaft Grave period included.230 Based on the archaeological record published, we can state with certainty that amounts of storage pottery (pithoi) were imported from Aegina and burnished pottery from the Cyclades, especially from Kea.231

 226 Maran 1992b, 207, “Gattung A6” (Acropolis Burnished Ware) and “Gattung C1” (Mycenaean Decorated Pottery). 227 Lohmann 2010, 40. 228 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 2001, 76. 82. 229 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 2001, 3f. fig. 1 (plot Chalkiadi). Compare also: Benzi 1975, 355–367; Mountjoy 1999, 489. 230 Lohmann 1993, 64 fig. 6–8; 501 (An 17) pl. 68.3; Oikonomakou 2010; Philippa/Touchais 2020, 390f. figs 4–6; for good photos see ibid. fig. 3 and Pantelis 1995, photos 1–2. 231 Philippa-Touchais/Balitsari 2020, 391.

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. The Small Coastal Plains of the Lavrion Region Lying on the NE coast of the silver-rich Lavrion area, the site of Thorikos reached, during the Shaft Grave and the subsequent Early Mycenaean period, a level of unprecedented complexity and variation in its elite funerary architecture. Excavations by the Belgians in 1965 on the saddle of the double-summited hill of Velatouri brought to light a settlement and a house of the MH III/LHI period where pieces of lead and litharge were recovered.232 These can plausibly be considered as evidence of silver mining in Thorikos during the Shaft Grave period. This may also imply that by that time people in Thorikos had achieved a more systematic exploitation of the mines, not only by controlling the trade of the local metal-resources but also in developing the technology of separating metal from ore.233 It is interesting to note that not only metals (especially lead) from the Lavriotiki have been found in sites such as Nichoria in Messenia,234 but also objects made of Lavrion-metals have been found in Middle and Late Bronze Age contexts on Crete.235 During the same period –and very close to the above mentioned house– the oldest elite-style grave (tomb V)236 was constructed. Tomb V, a large rectangular structure, was situated in the middle of a large, low tumulus with a so-called shaft grave under its floor, very similar in appearance to the older (MH II) built structures within tumulus I in Vranas,237 indicating a grave type of deep-rooted Helladic238 or perhaps more specifically western Marathonian character. Both the shaft and the overlaying structure were plundered in antiquity. However, some pottery of the Shaft Grave period indicates the time of its use.239 Interestingly enough, some fragments of stone vessels found in the tomb are Minoan in character and were dated by Jean Servais and Brigitte Servais-Soyez to MM III–LM IA.240 It has been suggested that the amplified need for metals in Neopalatial Crete and the increasing complexity in Thorikos are somehow connected.241 Although it is true that the explanation for the sudden appearance of this elaborate tomb and its Minoan contents should be sought in the exploitation of the ore deposits of the site, the argument of some socioeconomic Minoan  232 Servais 1967, 20–24 fig. 16 (litharge); Papadimitriou 2001, 98 n. 333; 2010, 252 n. 71. The recently published EH II-LH IIA material from Valerios Stais’ excavations at the top of the Velatouri hill (Papadimitriou 2020) needs to be studied carefully in order to understand the nature and the extent of its archaeological significance, as N. Papadimitriou already stated (2020, 466–468). 233 Papadimitriou 2001, 99 n. 343. 234 Stos-Gale/Kayafa/Gale 1999, 117f. 235 Davis 2008, 201. 236 Servais/Servais-Soyez 1984, 61–66; Laffineur 2010a, 713. 237 Laffineur 2010b, 28. He expresses now a different view in Laffineur 2020, 453. 238 Papadimitriou 2001, 91–93 with references. 239 Laffineur 2010a, 713. 240 Servais/Servais-Soyez 1984, 65. 241 Niemeier 1985, 224; Laffineur 2010b, 37.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos expansion, which supposedly exploited the indigenous SE of Attica and coincidentally upgraded the Lavrion area,242 fails to take into account that exactly in this period (LH I) the elites in Greek mainland consciously adopted Minoan objects as part of an internal strategy of their own making (so-called phenomenon of the ‘Minoanization’).243 In LH IIA, a new elite grave, tomb IV, appeared in Thorikos. This tomb is situated near the older tomb V and is an extremely experimental construction:244 an oblong vaulted tomb with apsidal short sides and a stomion and entrance placed at the centre of one of the short sides. The carefully built and long stomion incorporates one of the earliest known relieving triangles. The tumulus above the tomb was retained by a massive peribolos approximately 30 m in diameter. The tomb had been robbed but contained many sherds of palatial jars. The structure combines elements of built chamber-tombs with the newly introduced techniques of a tholos. The published palatial jar from this tomb is the latest identifiable object herein and finds its best parallel in a tall LM IB alabastron from Agia Triada on Crete.245 While the LH IIA tomb IV was still in use, another tholos is constructed some 300 m S of the older tumuli. The newly-built tholos is called ‘tholos III’ and constructed as a regular Mycenaean tholos, i.e., with a circular built chamber, a stomion and a long dromos.246 According to Nikolas Papadimitriou this emphasizes for Thorikos an implicated shift from the above supposed Cretan connection to that of the Greek Mainland. He suggests that in that period Thorikos was subordinate to a larger Mycenaean power controlling not only the Lavrion mines but the entire Peloponnese as well.247 As we said earlier, we do not believe that there is sufficient evidence to postulate a Minoan connection for tombs V and IV. Chronological correlations, by themselves, are in general not sufficient to explain the phenomenon of the rise of Thorikos. The Minoan need for metals and increasing complexity in Thorikos may be contemporaneous, but the architecture, which in our mind is the decisive criterion, does not show Minoan elements. Tumuli are a conspicuous Helladic grave form, tomb V is closely related to Vranas tumulus I, suggesting that the most likely source for the derivation of the form is Marathon, while the experimental oblong tomb IV can be best explained as local development, especially since there are no parallels from Crete either. Another new feature occurring during this period in Thorikos which rather emphasizes cultural (architectural) variation within Attica is the appearance of ‘tomb I’,  242 Papadimitriou 2010, 255; Papadimitriou/Cosmopoulos 2020, 375f. 243 Kalogeropoulos 2015. 244 Servais/Servais-Soyes 1984, 16–60; Papadimitriou 2001, 93f. fig. 38b; Laffineur 2010a, 713f.; 2010b, 28f.; Vassilikou 2019, 45, fig. 14. 245 Kalogeropoulos 1998a, 151f. (‘Thorikos 1’) pl. 31b. 246 Papadimitriou 2001, 97 (references). 247 Papadimitriou 2001, 99 with n. 353; compare also Phialon 2011, 363.

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the so-called ‘Stais Bothros’ and the L-shaped tomb II, the shape of which shows affinities to the L-shaped graves from Eleusis. All three are variants of “built chamber tombs” which seem to date no later than into the LH II period.248 In pointing to connections with other important Attic sites of the Shaft Grave and Early Mycenaean period, such as Vranas and Eleusis, I am not advocating a diffusionist perspective for the origins of the Thorikos elite-style graves. But further research should be undertaken with the aim to distinguish among sporadic contacts, persistent interaction and integration into a regional system. There is no evidence of chamber-tombs in Thorikos and one wonders were the general population was buried. In the hills W of Thorikos (Mikro Rimbari), the Kitsos cave (F 26) was in use at this time, as is evidenced by an early Mycenaean alabastron.249 This might be indicative of a pastoral population living in the mountains, rather than farmers on the plains. It is striking that the Belgian excavations at Velatouri have revealed little evidence from the LH IIIA and IIIB1 periods.250 Basically, only a few fragments are found in tomb III251 and especially in tomb II.252 However, this one-dimensional picture has started to change after the discovery at the NE slope of Mikro Velatouri by the Ephoreia of East Attica of a L-shaped Grave dated to LH IIIA2, which belonged to a high-ranking family.253 Finally, excavations N of the theatre, at the foot of the W slope of Velatouri, in the so-called mine 3 have revealed a transitional LH IIIB2–LH IIIC Early (in Mountjoy’s terminology) pottery assemblage, including a number of water jars and jugs, as well as cooking pots and dippers.254 Mountjoy associated these vessels with the process of extracting metals from ore.255 It is also possible, however, to connect them with the mines being used as shelters by the local inhabitants during times of danger other than earthquake.256 The LH IIIC Early pottery found in mine 3 in Thorikos gives the impression that the place was abandoned at a moment coinciding with the time when  248 On the construction date of tomb I and of the “Stais bothros” s. Papadimitriou 2001, 95f. 165; Laffineur 2010b, 33f.; on the date of tomb II s. Papadimitriou 2001, 165 n. 28 (“between MH III and LH IIA”). 249 Wickens 1986b, no. 1; Privitera 2013, 140 no. 26; on the alabastron, see Vandenabeele 1981, fig. 390. 250 Laffineur 2010a, 717f. 251 Laffineur 2010b, 33. 252 Laffineur 2010a, 718; 2010b, 34; Lohmann 2010, 41 n. 35. 253 Andrikou 2020b, 24 n. 57 fig. 4. 254 Mountjoy 1995a, 198–212. 214–227. 255 Mountjoy 1995a, 197, by using the method of alternating hot and cold water in order to crack the rock (or just cold water on a fire-heated rock). 256 The opinion of using the mine as an earthquake shelter (Stockhammer 2007, 317f.) makes no sense. It would have been very dangerous for the inhabitants of Thorikos to seek protection in the mines under such circumstances.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos the northern houses on the Acropolis of Athens were abandoned as well (= Perati I phase, s. below 3.9).257 Excavations at Velatouri have revealed little evidence from the LH IIIC Middle and LH IIIC Late phases.258 It is of interest that for this late period Mountjoy observed, among others, some pottery affinities to Perati259 which have been taken by Robert Laffineur as indication for an exploitation of the mines by people from this new LH IIIC site.260 We have, however, nothing more than these slight resemblances on which to base this assumption.

. The Upper Plain of Keratea Mycenaean sites in this buffer zone (between Mesogaia and Lavriotiki) have been, until recently, largely overlooked. But there were some exceptions: some Mycenaean sites were identified in earlier years. MH and LH evidence comes from the hill of Kephali, 1.5 km NW of Keratea (F 29),261 a cave near Keratea, on the SE slopes of Keratovouni, with pottery bearing connections to Perati, from the promontory of Kaki Thalassa at Agios Panteleimon (F 28) and recently from the slopes of Velatouri Kerateas.262 An important recent find, because of the large number of bronze weapons and tools, is reported by Eleni Andrikou who states that it was found at Zapani. Among these finds are a bronze dagger of the Shaft Grave period263 and a LH IIB/IIIA1 bronze sword of Sandars’ type Cii,264 which apparently are from two separate burials. Andrikou associated these with the newly identified Mycenaean palatial -mainly LH IIIA2- settlement on the N and S side of Zapani, a hill E of Keratea,265 which geographically appears very close to the extensive mines at Thorikos.266 In the northern part of the settlement installations of craft specialization activities (more than 700 litharge fragments indicate the practice of extractive metallurgy) have been found, to the S two oval storerooms with grain were recovered, and additionally part of a Mycenaean road (27 m long) leading to the summit of the hill.267 Whatever the case, these features  257 This special relation between Thorikos and Athens observed during the earliest phase of LH IIIC Early is emphasized by two other features: first, by the presence of large quantities of Lavrion lead at all depths of the Fountain House in Athens (Mountjoy 1995b, 44 with n. 156–157) and second, by the appearance of exported Aeginetan cooking pottery at both sites (Rutter 2003, 196f. n. 14 fig. 7). 258 Mountjoy 1995a, 212–214; Stockhammer 2007, 318 n. 1131. 259 Mountjoy 1995a, 212 n. 77. 260 Laffineur 2010a, 719; 2010b, 35. 261 Phialon 2011, 138; Privitera 2013, 125 no. 18. 262 Oikonomakou 2010, 236 fig. 2; Philippa-Touchais/Balitsari 2020, 392. 263 Andrikou 2020b, 25 fig. 5, c. 264 Andrikou 2010, 96 no. 2 pl. 2α-β; 2020b, 25 fig. 5, d. 265 Andrikou 2010, 101; 2015, 434; 2020a, 13 no. 33a-b; 2020b, 26. 266 Andrikou 2010; 2015. 267 Andrikou 2020b, 26 fig. 6.

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at the site indicate a surplus production during at least LH IIIA2: whether intended for exchange or to pay taxes in agriculture products must remain open for now. The presence of a large number of elite weapons and tools of the Shaft Grave period and the Early Mycenaean period seems to suggest that the site was important also in the previous period.

. The Plain of the Mesogeia The most important site in this mesoregion, at least in the Shaft Grave and the Early Mycenaean period, was Brauron (F 38).268 Its acropolis is situated on the E border of Attica, on the eastern edge of the fertile plain of the Mesogeia, at the estuary of the river Erasinos. To the E of the acropolis lies the deep bay of Brauron. This was a wellprotected natural harbour, which could accommodate a number of boats and therefore fulfilled one of the criteria for a trade nodal point. Recent palynological analysis from the coastal plain of Brauron points to cereal cultivation there already during the Early Helladic period. Furthermore, studies from coastal deposits confirmed that the coastal plain of Brauron had sources of constant fresh water during the entire 3rd and the 2nd millennia BC. Consequently, Brauron enjoyed good agricultural resources and ample water; it possessed a natural port and controlled a large extent of land near the sea. It comes, therefore, as no surprise, that the archaeological investigations conducted there in the 1950s and 1960s by Ioannis Papadimitriou under the auspices of the Archaeological Society at Athens revealed evidence for continuous human activities at the area from the Middle Neolithic period onwards.269 I have argued elsewhere,270 that during the whole Mycenaean period the site of the acropolis of Brauron was a ceremonial focal point and not a settlement as it has hitherto been viewed. The following is a summary of the most essential points of my argument. First we should emphasize that, in general, the site shows great similarities with Eleusis (coastal site controlling a large fertile plain) but with one difference: in contrast to Eleusis whose harbour is enclosed by the island of Salamis, Brauron, located in a pivotal position for navigation to and from the Cyclades, is open to the sea. An Early Cycladic (EC) figurine271 and imported EC pottery272 as well as a somewhat later Cycladic duck vase273 are indicative of the fact that already during the third and the first half of the 2nd millennium BC Brauron attracted attention from the Cyclades.  268 See supra, n. 60. 269 Kalogeropoulos 2010; 2019a, 223. 270 Kalogeropoulos 2019a. 271 Kalogeropoulos 2019b, 55–57 fig. 7.2. 272 Kalogeropoulos 2019b, 58 fig. 7.3 273 Kalogeropoulos 2019a, 226 n. 24.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos The material evidence, especially from the Acropolis, suggests that the site became suddenly important during the Shaft Grave period and especially during LH I. Evidence includes: (a) a central Early Mycenaean (LH I–IIB) structure on the plateau of the hill, (b) a pit found immediately to the NE of the LH I–IIB structure, which was filled with cult debris (fine decorated pottery and ritual equipment) and (c) a post-LH IIB/IIIA1 wall at a higher level after the abandonment of (a) and (b).274 (a) The pottery groups associated with the early Mycenaean structure/room (2.5 × 3 m) are of similar character: they constitute feasting equipment. A large number of drinking vessels, such as goblets, cups, kraters and several bowls, indicate an extensive consumption of wine. Fragments of cooking pots on the other hand indicate that meals were also cooked here.275 Interestingly enough, among the fragments of the lower level of this room (early LH I according to our definition), Papadimitriou found the upper part of an elongated, narrow-necked jar with lid. This is a Minoan shape, but the clay of the jar found is reddish-brown and contains a large amount of silver mica, both typical features for the pottery from the Minoanizing island of Kea.276 Further, in this context it is interesting to note that already in 1977 Jack Davis had put forward the idea that all the fine pottery from Brauron was brought there from the island of Kea.277 The presence of a crocus-like floral motif that decorates the area directly below the neck of the jar is the motif par excellence of the Great Minoan Goddess. She is best known from the LM IA Saffron Goddess Fresco from Xeste 3 at Akrotiri, where the Goddess is shown receiving offerings of crocuses from young girls. Since our vessel dates roughly to the same period, it is not unreasonable to suppose that this container from the LH I levels of the Early Mycenaean room in Brauron may have had a special symbolic meaning. (b) Ritual objects, such as the fragment of a painted plaster offering table and a clay miniature composite vessel (kernos), found in the pit immediately to the NE of the early Mycenaean room, indicate that this installation was possibly a repository for ritual equipment or for offerings. The kernos is a combination of a cross-shaped base and four miniature cups of the same size, apparently for holding offerings. It is interesting to note that the miniature-cups are imitating a cup-shape that was dominant in Agia Irini on Kea during the early Mycenaean period (town VII). (c) The third structure from the acropolis that deserves attention in our context is a post-LH IIB/IIIA1 wall. It is 168 m long and 0.85–1.20 m thick, and overlaid the previously mentioned Early Mycenaean structure after its abandonment; it surrounded the top of the hill on three sides. As I have stressed elsewhere,278 this is clearly not a  274 Kalogeropoulos 2019a, fig. 12. 275 Kalogeropoulos 2019a, 227 figs 6–8. 276 Kalogeropoulos 2010, 217 fig. 6,d. 277 Davis 1977. On the relationships between Kea and eastern Attica in the Late Helladic period s. now Gorogianni/Abell/Hilditch 2020. 278 Kalogeropoulos 2019a.

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fortification wall but rather a peribolos in the form of a Π, which encloses and delineates a courtyard area of approximately 800 to 1000 m2. The wall has only one opening in the middle, which may indicate a central entrance at exactly the place where the previously named pit with the, now buried, ritual equipment was found. In the 800 to 1000 m2 of open space at the plateau of Brauron, no evidence of any large residential domestic occupation was found. The focus of the activities here seems, according to our present state of knowledge, to only concern a single set of superimposed structures in one area at the centre of the plateau (the early Mycenaean room). Apart from these features, the excavators found scattered over the open space of the plateau fragments of pithoi (indicating storage potential, possibly of grain) – the majority of them imported from Aegina– and several grinding stones (indicating some kind of food preparation that required milling grain).279 Interestingly enough, in a supplementary excavation on the Brauron acropolis which took place in 2001, again under the auspices of the Archaeological Society at Athens, Klairi Efstratiou found in an Early Mycenaean context on the eastern part of the plateau an intact stone mould for casting bronze daggers.280 Should this be interpreted as coming from debris of the ceremonial site and indicating the production there of metal daggers (metalworking activities) or should it be understood as a depositional act (no matter if community hoard, foundation deposit or fertility rite)? In any case, we seem to encounter here a ritual connection between ceremonial site and metalworking. The material of the Mycenaean palatial period of the acropolis of Brauron is not so numerous as the material of the previous period, but it does not show any sharp break in character with the preceding period II. Feasting equipment (especially kylikes and deep bowls) continues to dominate. Compared to ordinary Mycenaean domestic contexts, the assemblages on the highest plateau on the acropolis of Brauron are atypical in two respects: (a) they do not come from a dense agglutination of Mycenaean habitation (domestic) remains, as one would expect based on the picture we have from other contemporary walled harbour sites; and (b) in contrast to ordinary settlements, a distinctive feature of Brauron during the Mycenaean period is that almost all the ceramic vases found on the plateau of the acropolis, if not Mycenaean decorated ware, were not produced locally but at other sites, such as Kea, Aegina, Athens, Boeotia, and Crete. Of course, this does not exclude the presence of a possible domestic site nearby, after all the nearby Mycenaean cemetery of Lapoutsi must have had an attendant settlement.281

 279 Kalogeropoulos 2019a, 232. 280 Efstratiou 2001, 25 pl. 17α. 281 The fact that the Mycenaean cemetery reflects the existence of an ordinary settlement (see also below) does not necessary mean, of course, that this “standard settlement” should be located on the

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Finally, it should be emphasized that a LH IIIB2/IIIC Early deep bowl from what Efstratiou describes as a “destruction layer” on the acropolis is an indication that the abandonment of the acropolis at Brauron is chronologically related with the latest use of the Acropolis Fountain and the Northeast Ascent on the Acropolis at Athens and coincides with the collapse of the Mycenaean palatial system (LH IIIB2/IIIC Early).282 Approximately contemporary with the Mycenaean cultural activities on the acropolis of Brauron is a group of chamber-tombs known as the cemetery of Lapoutsi on the NW slopes of Chamolia, overlooked by the acropolis. The small cemetery, which was recently published by Thanasis Papadopoulos and Litsa Kontorli-Papadopoulou,283 consists primarily of non-monumental, rather regular Mycenaean chamber-tombs of modest size and traits.284 A degree of uniformity can also be seen in the case of the grave goods (luxury wares discovered on the acropolis, such as the palatial jars,285 have not been found in the cemetery) and the body treatment of the 53 buried individuals. It has been suggested that certain persons appear to have enjoyed differential access to particular goods,286 but to assume that these people formed a distinct class is unwarranted, since what variations exist are consistent with age distinctions (child burials)287 or with differences based on rather personal factors, such as was the case with the exceptional LH IIIA1 cremation in ‘Verdelis Tomb A’.288 Egyptian objects, such as a scarab of Ramses II, point to external contact with foreign peoples, but there is no evidence of the deceased being a king or a leader.289 Individuals in possession of more wealth held of course positions of more than ordinary importance in the community of Brauron, but may have been heads of families or religious leaders of the community, and were probably not part of a separate elite class. In sum, the character of the local society as reflected in the cemetery does not seem to suggest significant differences in status and wealth among its members (i.e. the presence of an elite class). Furthermore, it is suggestive that after the acropolis went out of use at the transitional phase LH IIIB/IIIC Early, i.e. around ca 1200 BC (due to a breakdown in agricultural production?), within two or three generations the cemetery was abandoned.

 plateau of the Brauronian acropolis as Papadimitriou/Cosmopoulos 2020, 378 n. 56 recently argued. On the contrary, the scarce remains of building structures on the plateau do not fulfill the requirements needed to speak of a settlement. 282 Kalogeropoulos 2019a, 231. 283 Papadopoulos/Kontorli-Papadopoulou 2014. 284 Papadopoulos/Kontorli-Papadopoulou 2014, 161 (“routine chamber tombs of moderate size”). 285 Kalogeropoulos 2019a, 230 fig. 10. 286 Papadopoulos/Kontorli-Papadopoulou 2014, 162. 287 Papadopoulos/Kontorli-Papadopoulou 2014, 122. 288 Papadopoulos/Kontorli-Papadopoulou 2014, 121. 289 Papadopoulos/Kontorli-Papadopoulou 2014, 61 n. Δ1 fig. 3.147 pl. 45; 159.

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In the case of Eleusis, we have suggested that religious rituals within Megaron B may had something to do with the need to ensure an efficient irrigation. Life at Brauron was, as in Eleusis, that of a subsistence agricultural society. Both sites seem to have commanded an area with large agricultural potential and in both sites the purpose of the religious dimensions was surely directed at growth and fertility. It is therefore plausible to suggest, that the main ritual activity attested in Brauron, i.e. the preparation and consumption of meals, probably celebrated events directly linked with the economic and social objectives of the community, i.e. growth and fertility, be the crop agricultural surplus, children or even the production of utilitarian items such as bronze daggers, as the stone mould might imply. A different approach for reinforcing the stability of the system in cases of environmental uncertainties may be detected between the two. In Eleusis the system seems to have been more restricted, using the political/religious leaders of the site as agents within a closed structure (Megaron B). In Brauron, the system looks more open, using a broader social entanglement, i.e. people from several sites (pilgrimages) in an open space (plateau of the Acropolis). As noted previously, the fertile plain of the Mesogaia is divided roughly into two portions, a N and a S part, bordered by the river Erasinos. It is upon the northern part of the plain, on the SW slopes of a lower hill called Magoula, at Spata, that Panagiotis Stamatakis discovered in 1877 two tombs, including the famous three-chambered tomb (F 42),290 in use mainly during the Mycenaean palatial period,291 but also in LH IIIC.292 The form of the tomb is extraordinary. There is no other site in Attica where a similar grave form occurs. Although looted, some 100 vases were found. 420 ivory objects of diverse functions and decorated with various motifs in relief or incision,293 as well as c. 1400 glass-paste inlays and beads dating to LH IIIB1 were there recovered.294 100 gold beads, 43 boar’s tusks making up a helmet, as well as few bronze, silver and stone artefacts also date mainly to this period.295 This chamber-tomb, with another smaller one W of it, belong to a cemetery that has not yet been excavated. The closest parallel for the grave form comes from the cemetery of Prosymna in the Argolid (chamber-tomb XXV), which has one main chamber and three side chambers,296 while according to Anna Grammenou “the Spata ivories are closely related to

 290 Koumanoudis/Kastorchis 1877, pl. Z; Papadimitriou-Grammenou 2003, B, 2.; Privitera 2013, 127– 130 no. 22. 291 Grammenou 1992, 49. 292 Grammenou 1996, 141. 293 Grammenou 1996, 140. 294 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 2002, 49 with good coloured photos (49–53). 295 Papadimitriou-Grammenou 2003. 296 Kontorli-Papadopoulou 1987, 147.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos those belonging to IIIB from Mycenae”.297 The implication is for trade with elite groups from the Argolid. Magoula near Spata was not the only site N of the Erasinos to experience a remarkable increase in architectural complexity during the Mycenaean palatial period. The recently (2009) discovered Mycenaean cemetery of Kolikrepi, 3 km to the E of Magoula, seems to have been the scene of developments at least as interesting as at Magoula/Spata. The life of the basically chamber-tomb cemetery (53 of the 65 until now excavated graves are chamber-tombs) seems to begin in LH IIA, revealing some interesting palatial vases not very common in Attica contexts.298 Architectural variations exist mainly in the case of the double pit graves, with possible parallels occurring mainly in graves from sites from Central (Fouresi at Glyka Nera), Eastern (Perati) or West Attica (Alyki).299 During the Mycenaean palatial period the cemetery increased, but for the time being there is no evidence for luxury goods in the community of Kolikrepi (as was the case in Magoula/Spata with the ivories). The cemetery was in use until LH IIIC Early.300 The available archaeological evidence at the northern part of the plain of the Mesogaia suggests that the number of the population here shrank. The plausible reason given is that sites such as Magoula/Spata, Kolikrepi, and Brauron were so closely dependent upon the structure of the palatial administration in Attica that once their economic and political structure had declined, these sites held no further attraction. On the other hand, the little LH IIIC evidence from the tomb in Magoula/Spata and from the Lapoutsi cemetery suggests that after the collapse of the structure of the palatial society, some inhabitants must have stayed put. Exactly during this period (beginning of LH IIIC Early) something peculiar happened along the E border of the southern part of the plain of Mesogaia. On the lower hill of Perati (F 34)301 at the NE end of the Bay of Porto Raphti, a very interesting new cemetery was founded in a place never before settled. Iakovidis conducted excavations here between 1953 and 1963 and published his results in an exemplary way in 1969 and 1970.302 The cemetery covered the entire 12th century BC, which is itself a unique phenomenon in Attica. The settlement belonging to this impressive cemetery has not yet been discovered.303 A total of 219 graves were uncovered with a minimum of 600 individuals, men and woman of all ages. Iakovidis recognized three phases in  297 Grammenou 1992, 49. On the stylistic similarities especially of the Spata ivory warrior’s head with Mycenae, see Vonhoff 2008, 128. 312f. cat. no. 228 pl. 54. 298 Papakonstantinou/Triantaphyllou/Stathi 2019, pl. CCXLIIa (bridge spouted jug, FS 103); Stathi/Psallida 2020, 477 fig. 7, α. 299 Stathi/Psallida 2020, 473f. fig. 4, β. 300 Stathi/Psallida 2020, 471. 301 Privitera 2013, 141–146 no. 29. 302 Iakovidis 1969; Iakovidis 1970. 303 Cavanagh/Mee 2009.

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the cemetery: Perati I, II and III. Perati I is roughly LH IIIC Early,304 Perati II is LH IIIC Middle and Perati III is LH IIIC Late.305 During Perati I–III, two main tomb types occur: chamber-tombs and pits. A third of the burials were single,306 in the other cases two to three burials were placed in one tomb. The largest group of burials (some 90 %) consisted of small-sized chambertombs with mostly rectangular chambers.307 Half of the children were buried in a chamber together with an adult.308 Another group consisted of pits covered with schist slabs, among them a small group consisting of double pit burials.309 There were also some pits with a shallow dromos.310 The large number of bronze burial gifts and the great amount of corroded bronze debris are striking. Iakovidis concluded that the people of Perati were casting bronze objects during LH IIIC and, consequently, that they were responsible for the development of the bronze industry in the region.311 Perati I (LH IIIC Early) marks a cultural break in the cultural history of Attica for many reasons. First, cremation appears as a burial custom.312 Cremation, although not absolutely new in the LH IIIC-Aegean (as we already have seen in the case of Brauron),313 is as a burial custom better known from Asia Minor.314 In Perati, it seems to mark relatively rich burials.315 Second, as already mentioned, the custom of single burials in chamber-tombs appears. Chamber-tombs were traditionally used by the Mycenaeans of Attica almost only as family tombs. Now, at Perati, as William Cavanagh and Christopher Mee convincingly suggested “there may have been a tendency to emphasise the status of the individual rather than the family”.316 Third, the absence in many chamber-tombs of the typical stomion and herewith the absence of liminal rituals at this particular place is noted.317

 304 Perati I corresponds both to LH IIIC Early and with Mountjoy’s Transitional LH IIIB2–IIIC Early phase (Mountjoy 1999, 496 with n. 95). 305 Iakovidis 1970, 401–405; Mountjoy 1986, 133f. table II; Mountjoy 1999, 496–499. 306 Iakovidis 1970, 28. 307 Iakovidis 1969, pl. 156. 308 Iakovidis 1970, 67. 309 Iakovidis 1969, 24 pl. 159β and 160α. 310 Iakovidis 1969, pl. 161α. 311 Iakovidis 1970, 339. 372. 312 Cavanagh/Mee 1998, 93f.; Murray 2018, 52. 313 Cavanagh/Mee 1998, 74. 94; Jung 2007, 215f. pl. LVIIa (distribution map). 314 Iakovidis 1970, 43. 56f. 415; Mountjoy 1993, 25. 315 Dickinson 2006, 181. 316 Cavanagh/Mee 2009, 177. 317 Cavanagh/Mee 2009, 177.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Fourth, the typical female Mycenaean figurines as grave offerings are almost completely absent.318 The very few female terracotta figurines now are either of the Psi-type319 or depict wailing women, showing the typical mourning gesture known from the Tanagra larnakes,320 placed on the rim of a new funerary pot form, the kalathos.321 This combination of features connects Perati I with Rhodes in particular.322 Fifth, iron items as burial gifts appear for the first time.323 The presence of iron during LH IIIC is very rare and always connected with the leading regions of the Aegean.324 Sixth, the cemetery attests for the first time an amalgam of different pottery and artefact styles, especially from Crete, the Cyclades (Melos) and the Dodecanese (Rhodes), whilst exotic objects found in Perati, such as scarabs, cartouches with the name of Ramses II, and cylinder seals bear witness to links further afield, with Asia Minor, Cyprus, Egypt and the Syro-Palestinian region and others (e.g. fibulae) even reflect contacts with Italy and Central Europe.325 Finally, during LH IIIC Early pottery production shifts from Athens to Perati.326 This shift also suggests a changing distribution of wealth from W to E Attica during this period. This special importance of Perati I –no matter if we choose to consider the site as a ‘gateway community’ for traders from the East327 or its material record as cultural expression of a heterogeneous post-palatial world328– culminated during the following LH IIIC Middle (= Perati II). 25 of the old tombs of the Perati I period remained in use, and there was no break in the character and repertoire of the burial gifts of the previous phase. However, the occupied area in LH IIIC Middle (63 new chambertombs and four pits) was certainly larger than in LH IIIC Early.329 Clear signs of a leading role –at least in a military sense– within Attica are reflected in the appearance of a couple of distinguished warrior graves.330 The special relationship of Perati to the

 318 Iakovidis 2003, 127. Zoomorphic figurines, however, especially bovines are frequent, see Iakovidis 1970, 268–270 fig. 117. 319 Iakovidis 1970, 266f. fig. 115. 320 Vassilikou 2019, 402 fig. 245 (Perati), 470 fig. 322 (Tanagra). 321 Iakovidis 1970, 267f. fig. 116. 322 Vlachopoulos 2006, 332. 323 Iakovidis 1970, 376–378. 324 Dickinson 2006, 148 fig. 5.18 (distribution map). 325 Murray 2018, 50; Iakovidis 1970, 415. For the Minoan imports during LH IIIB2–IIIC Early in Attica in general, see Hallager 2007, 193–195. 326 Mommsen 2003, 18–21; Stockhammer 2007, 265; Crouwel 2009 (especially for the octopus stirrup jars from East Attica). 327 Dickinson 2006, 203. 328 Murray 2018, 57. 329 Iakovidis 1970, 401f. 330 Deger-Jalkotzy 2006, 154–157.

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Cyclades (Naxos) and the Dodecanese is still to be investigated, especially with regard to the distribution of pottery shapes and decorative motives.331 Given all those eastern connections, the question arises how does Perati fit into the settlement pattern of its own geographical unit, the southern plain of Mesogaia? If we exclude a few isolated cases such as the fortified Shaft Grave/Early Mycenaean acropolis ‘Kastro tou Christou’ (F 40),332 which lies at the western margin of the southern plain, 3 km NW of Koropi and seems to have much in common with Kiapha Thiti (mesoregion 5), information for the southern part of the Mesogaia derives, interestingly, only from the eastern border of the southern plain and its surroundings. It involves (1) Kopreza (F 31),333 c. 2 km SE of Markopoulo, (2) Ligori (F 32),334 c. 4 km E of Markopoulo, (3) a LH IIIC chamber-tomb found by Nikolaos Kyparissis at the 33rd km stone (F 32A), (4) the small island of Raphtis (F 35) (some evidence of LH IIIC habitation), (5) Raphtopoula (F 35 A) in the bay of Porto Raphti,335 (6) the recently discovered LH IIIC cemetery at Drivlia (Porto Raphti)336 and (7) Merenta.337 Except for the relatively recently excavated two small chamber-tomb cemeteries of Merenta, which both seem to have been abandoned at LH IIIC Early,338 all the above were contemporary with the LH IIIC cemetery of Perati. The presence of smaller contemporary cemeteries around Perati may indicate an interrelated hinterland population linked to the large settlement of Perati, wherever this was placed.339

. The Coastal Plain of Loutsa At the moment, there are two more important Mycenaean sites known in this mesoregion: the low-rising hills of Velanideza (F 44)340 in the hinterland, where Kyparissis found a looted chamber-tomb cemetery of the Mycenaean palatial period in 1927–28 and Loutsa (ancient Halai Araphenides) on the coast, where later the Classical sanctuary of Artemis Tauropolos was founded. The analysis of the available archaeological data from the excavations conducted in the area of the sanctuary of Artemis Tauropolos by Ioannis Papadimitriou (1956–57) has shown that Loutsa seems to have functioned as a port from the Shaft Grave period until at least LH IIIC Early with a  331 Thomatos 2007, 318f. table 2. 332 Hope Simpson/Hagel 2006; Privitera 2013, 124 no. 17. 333 Privitera 2013, 125 no. 19. 334 Privitera 2013, 140f. no. 28. 335 Privitera 2013, 146 no. 31. 336 Kakavogianni/Douni 2009, 395f. figs 14–15; Andrikou 2020a, 13 no. 31. 337 Kakavogianni 2003, 28f.; Salavoura 2006; Petrou 2008, 344–346; Andrikou 2020a, 13 no. 27e. 338 Petrou et al. 2009, 127–131. 339 On this topic see now Ruppenstein 2020, 571, who favors a location of the settlement on the Raphtis island. 340 Milchhöfer 1889a, 6f.; Privitera 2013, 132 no. 24.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos significant presence of Aeginetan pottery in the Early Mycenaean period.341 A sudden increase in the population during the Shaft Grave period must have been involved in this development.

. The Crossroads Region Between Hymettos and Penteli At Stavros, behind Agios Ioannis Kynegos, there is a spring called ‘Glyka Nera’ (= Sweet Waters),342 where an important Mycenaean cemetery at the hill Fouresi is located.343 Until now little data have been published from this cemetery, but the custom of offering painted pinakes during this time344 seems to connect Fouresi/Glyka Nera with the Kadmeia in Thebes.345 The tombs in Fouresi were relatively small, rock-cut and densely packed. The majority were chamber-tombs, but a few pit-shaft graves for single burials and few examples of child inhumation exist.346 Many clay vessels, figurines, beads of glass-paste and spindle whorls have been found.347 Metal finds were rare, but warrior graves, indicated by bronze spearheads348 and a type F sword,349 are attested. Outstanding among the common tombs at Glyka Nera is a large chambertomb with a 24 m-long dromos, comparable (only in its dimension) to those of Magoula at Spata (F 42).350 This variety of tomb sizes and forms is probably evidence for social differentiation. Intentional care and social differentiation are indicated by the deposition of a LH IIB/IIIA1 Minoan style lead figurine and of two one-handled carinated cups inverted next to a cluster of six skulls within this tomb.351 Glyka Nera probably owes its importance to the fact that it was located at the crossroads near modern Stavros, which in its modern name still preserves the meaning of a crossroad.

 341 Kalogeropoulos 2013, cat. nos. K1–K41 (Shaft Grave period and Early Mycenaean), cat. nos. K42– K43 (LH IIIA2–IIIB), cat. nos. 44–57 (LH IIIB–IIIC Early–Middle). 342 Milchhöfer 1883b, 31. 343 Kakavogiannis 1999–2001; Privitera 2013, 130 no. 23. 344 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 2002–2005. 345 Aravantinos/Fappas 2012, 934 n. 18 figs. 9–10. 346 Kakavogiannis 1999–2001, fig. 2; Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 2002, 53. 347 Kakavogiannis 1999–2001, fig. 4–15. 348 Kakavogiannis 1999–2001, 67 fig. 16. 349 Chatzidimitriou 2013, 251 n. 25 fig. 3. 350 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 2002, 53–57; Chatzidimitriou 2013, 249 n. 6. 351 Sgouritsa 2007, 269f.; Chatzidimitriou 2013, 249; Sgouritsa 2019, 344f.; Polychronakou-Sgouritsa/Kakavogiannis 2020.

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. The Megalo Rema River System The cultural pattern of this mesoregion –until now widely known only from an extraordinary clay rhyton said to have been found in Pikermi352– is formed by a number of small sites representing settlements of people living and farming on both sides of the Megalo Rema (the Valanari river), such as Pikermi (F 47),353 Raphina (F 45) and Askitario (F 46).354 According to our present knowledge, Pikermi was a site existing during the Mycenaean palatial period, while coastal Raphina355 and Askitario356 seem to have been re-occupied at the latest in LH IIA. An increase of population during that period must have been involved in that development. The case of Raphina indicates that this settlement pattern persisted for nearly 300 years (c. 1500–1200 BC, LH IIA– IIIB2). The presence of a fragment of a palatial-style jar in Askitario suggests an Early Mycenaean coastal settlement (port?) of some importance.

. The Western Penteli River System With the exception of Koukouvaounes357 at the western border of this mesoregion, until recently no sites were identified as active during the Mycenaean period within the boundaries of the Western Penteli river system. This is rather surprising, given the fertile character of the area. The recent (2015) discovery of two LH IIIA2–IIIB chamber-tombs at Marousi358 has confirmed the –suspected– importance of the area at least during the Mycenaean palatial period.

. The Region Between the Eastern Penteli River System and the Charadros River in the Plain of Marathon The cultural pattern of this mesoregion is basically known from its NE end, microregion 14a. The most important site here is Vranas. On the northern edge of the Vranas plain, four tumuli of the 2nd millennium BC were discovered by Spyridon Marinatos in 1970. They are low mounds covered with rows of river pebbles. Tumuli I, II and III are closely clustered, tumulus IV lies c. 80 m to the E.359 The only indication of occupation during

 352 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa 2002, 60 fig. γ; Paschalidis 2002/03, 96f. fig. 7–12. 353 Privitera 2013, 152 no. 36. 354 Privitera 2013, 151 no. 35. 355 Theocharis 1952, 149 fig. 15 upper row, middle and right. 356 Theocharis 1955, 113 pl. 36γ. 357 Mountjoy 1999, 488 n. 27. 358 Sakellaraki 2015. 359 Travlos 1988, 230 fig. 281; Petrakos 1996, 60–63 figs. 19. 21; Privitera 2013, 152–155 no. 37.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos the Early Mycenaean (LH IIA–IIB/IIIA1) period in Vranas comes from tumulus II, situated in the direct neighbourhood of the earlier, MH I–II, tumulus I.360 The date is indicated by stone arrowheads361 of the standard Early Mycenaean type362 and seems to be confirmed by the earliest identifiable Mycenaean decorated pottery from the chamber of tumulus II. The latter has been recently dated to LH IIIA1363 in the course of a research program directed by Pantelidou,364 currently under way, aiming to publish the four prehistoric tumuli of Vranas. It is interesting that even during the Mycenaean palatial period the western Marathonian elite preferred to bury its members in the traditional way of heaping up an earth mound above the graves. This strongly conservative phenomenon, known in that period also from the western Peloponnese,365 is exemplified in the cases of Vranas tumuli III and IV. The published ceramic offerings from these tumuli belong to the LH IIIA–B phases.366 The character of the burial pottery does not seem, however, to be different from the contemporaneous burial assemblages of Eleusis and Athens.367 These four tumuli suggest that the W Marathon mesoregion possessed an elaborate tumulus-tradition lasting some 1000 years. It is therefore more than interesting that several hundred meters to the S of the Vranas tumuli, a regular Mycenaean tholos tomb was constructed, too. The tholos tomb, found by Georgios Sotiriades in 1926 and excavated by him and by Marinatos in 1933, was freestanding (and not built into a slope as usual) on the plain between the hills of Agrieliki and Kotroni.368 The tomb was apparently constructed in LH IIB/IIIA1, but Frank H. Stubbings, who seemingly saw it, gave it “a quite late date in the LH III period”.369 The tomb is very similar in construction with that of Menidi370 and the often illustrated early Mycenaean gold cup from this tomb (Matthäus’ type 33, “einteilige Tasse”)371 could easily be an heirloom from an earlier period.

 360 Pantelidou Gofa et al. 2014, 58. 361 Marinatos 1970a, 16 pl. 21β; Pantelidou Gofa et al. 2020, 445f. fig. 12. 362 Buchholz 1962, 24 (LH I–IIIA1) fig. 7 type IVa; compare also Kalogeropoulos 1998a, 70f. 363 Paschalidis 2015, 48 fig. 8, nos. 20/2 and 20/3. 364 Pantelidou Gofa et al. 2014; 2015; 2016; 2017; 2020. 365 Mountjoy 1993, 18; Vassilikou 2019, 49. 366 Paschalidis 2016. 367 As attested for example by a straight-sided alabastron and a handleless jar (Marinatos 1970a, pl. 25γ). 368 Sotiriadis 1934a, 1064f.; for the position of the tholos, see Sotiriadis 1934b, map on p. 18, Sign “C”. 369 Stubbings 1947, 7; Matthäus 1980, 220 n. 4. The schematic drawing of a clay alabastron used by Hope Simpson/Dickinson 1979, 218 (F 49) is insufficient as an argument for a LH IIB–IIIA1 date. An LH IIB date has also been proposed by Mountjoy 1999, 25. 370 Sotiriadis 1934a, 1062 fig. 2–3; Karo 1935, 179; Pelon 1976, 228–231. 371 Matthäus 1980, 220 pl. 74 no. 5.

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At any rate, we are dealing with a very rich grave. This is evidenced first by the just mentioned Early Mycenaean gold cup,372 which not only indicates the enormous economic and social standing of its owner but also “reinforces the importance of feasting, and especially drinking, for early Mycenaean society”,373 and further by a bronze object.374 But, most importantly, it is manifested by the burial of two horses symmetrically arranged and found in situ in 1958 by Ioannis Papadimitriou in the dromos of this tholos tomb.375 It has been suggested that this indicates the presence of a chariot and perhaps implies military status.376 Prominent is here the harmonious pairing and balanced positioning of the sacrificed horses. The ritual seems to be a straightforward adaptation of the NE Peloponnesian custom of the sacrifice of pairs of horses, as it is known especially from the cemetery of Dendra, where the ritual seems to have been a recurrent practice.377 The settlement associated with the LH tumuli II–IV of Vranas and/or the related tholos tomb has not been recognized yet with certainty. Earlier locations of a ‘Mycenaean acropolis’ on the NE part of Mt. Agrieliki378 seem now to be disputed.379 An alternative hypothesis would be to locate the LH settlement/s on terraces above the floodplains of the Rapentosa river (= Skorpio potami = “Bach von Vrana”), i.e. the alluvial valleys of Vranas and Avlona. There is, however, no evidence for this, to the present. The consistency of the water supply of the Rapentosa river would make it suitable to be used for irrigation of the agricultural land. As in the case of Eleusis we would expect here the presence of an irrigation system (either by diverting the river through channels or by constructing artificial reservoirs for floodwater storage) in order to increase agricultural productivity. The area’s later special connection with the hero Herakles,380 the forefather of hydraulical engineering,381 is certainly a valuable hint towards this direction. Recently, archaeological evidence has been found, which supports this suggestion. A probably Mycenaean cyclopean retaining wall (width 3.50 m), found in 2004 at the locality Seferia near Bei,382 indicates that a great flood-prevention project, in the

 372 Sotiriadis 1934a, fig. 4. 373 Pullen 2017, 63. 374 Sotiriadis 1934b, 18 (“utensil” or “jewel”). 375 Petrakos 1996, fig. 23. 376 Vermeule 1965, 144 connects it with Tanagra and the chariots themes depicted on the larnakes there. 377 Pappi/Isaakidou 2015, 477; see also Vassilikou 2019, 190f. 378 Goette/Weber 2004, 21. 379 Lohmann 2010, 41 n. 33 (references); Polychronakou-Sgouritsa et al. 2016, 306. 380 Marinatos 1970c, 155; Petrakos 1996; Goette/Weber 2004, 39. 381 Koutsoyiannis/Angelakis 2004. 382 Oikonomakou 2005, 42 fig. 1; Banou/Oikonomakou 2008, 93 fig. 82; Banou 2010, 41f.; Andrikou 2020a, 10 no. 7.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos manner of the well-known centralized projects of Tiryns and Orchomenos, must have taken place here.383 A settlement pattern can be observed, however, at the coastal site of Plasi (F 51),384 situated between the two arms of Charadros (the Skoupas and Oinois rivers), near arable, alluvium, land. Fifty years ago (1970), Marinatos commented that Plasi was “the oldest and most interesting settlement so far discovered at Marathon” and that among other structures a “large MH building, a kind of palace, with traces of a potter’s kiln” had been found here, protected by a fortification wall “of not later than MH date”.385 The apparent labour involved in the construction of the mansion and the fortification wall implies strong organizational design, whilst the pottery specialization as well as other elements, such as the discovery of imported pottery from Phylakopi on Melos386 and Kamares pottery,387 testifies to the existence of exchange systems with proto-palatial Crete: all these suggest that in the MH period Plasi must have reached a complex level of sociocultural integration. This conclusion is confirmed by the recent (2014–2017) excavations and studies conducted here by the University of Athens. In the course of these studies the rectangular ‘mansion’ was dated to MH II,388 the fortification wall “was still in use in MH II”,389 while the analysis of the potters’ kilns showed that the specialization in the pottery manufacture took place mainly in the Shaft Grave period (MH III–LH I).390 On the whole, the emerging picture is one of a fortified harbour protecting a large rectangular residential building, comparable to the so-called MH ‘Großsteinbau’ (Large Building Complex) of Kolonna on Aegina.391 During the Shaft Grave period, i.e. the time when Plasi flourished as a potteryproducing (and of course also agricultural) society, two well known Polychrome Bird Jugs demonstrate links of the site especially with the Cyclades: the earlier Cycladic piece392 belongs to Davis’ first type, with good parallels in the Temple Repositories of

 383 Steinhauer 2009, 65. 384 Petrakos 1996, 55 fig. 17; Privitera 2013, 155f. no. 38. 385 Mastrokostas 1970; Marinatos 1970b, 66; Marinatos 1970c, 150–154 fig. 2 (large MH Mansion, a MH pottery kiln and MH graves); on Plasi, compare also Kilian-Dirlmeier 1997, 112; Gauss 2004, 44. 386 Gauss 2004, 45. 387 Rutter/Zerner 1984, 82 Appendix IV B (7). 388 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa et al. 2016, 308 fig. 19.4. 389 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa et al. 2016, 309. 390 Kapsali 2019. 391 Gauss/Lindblom/Smetana 2011. 392 Mastrokostas 1970, 18; Petrakos 1996, 128. For a coloured photo, see Steinhauer 2009, 70.

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Knossos,393 and the later LH I one394 belongs to Davis’ second type, which should rather be understood as a typical example of the Polychrome Mainland Ware Bird Jugs known from the Argolid, Elis and the Cyclades.395 According to our present evidence Plasi was continuously inhabited from LH I to LH IIIC.396 But the evidence reflects also something more fundamental: the LH community/ties in Plasi seem/s to have invested considerable energy in constructing ceremonial facilities, such as arranging “graves around the building and very close to its walls but not inside it” (during the Shaft Grave period)397 or feasting and drinking rituals (during the palatial period)398 perhaps in part to demonstrate publicly their participation in feasts honouring the important ancestors of the MH period. Mycenaean material from microregions 14b and 14 c has not been published until now.

. The Region Between the Charadros River and the Plain of Limiko (Rhamnous) Within this mesoregion there are few secure indications of activities during the LH period, which is rather surprising in view of the numerous food resources available in the highlands and especially in the lowland (plains of modern Marathon, Kato Souli and Limiko). In the fertile plain of the modern village Marathon, c. 3 km W of the village, overlooking Charadros, lies the cave of Oinoe or Pan.399 I. Papadimitriou reported LH III pottery from this cave.400 Old reports from the hill Stavrokoraki (Trikorythos) above the plain of Kato Souli mention Mycenaean pottery, but firm evidence seems to be lacking.401 The most secure evidence comes from Rhamnous on the NE border of the mesoregion.402 Here, in 1982, the honoree discovered fine pottery from the Mycenaean palatial period associated with building structures, near the later sanctuary of Nemesis.403 The implication of this high-quality fine palatial pottery is that Rhamnous was incorporated in an effective regional communication network.

 393 Davis 1976, 81 n. 4. 394 For a coloured photo see: Kakavogianni 2008, 99 fig. 151 (Museum of Marathon no. 700). For parallels from the shaft graves of Mycenae, see Dietz 1991, 217. 219 no. IB-1 (beak-spouted jug). 395 Davis 1976, 82 n. 8. 396 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa et al. 2016, 309. 397 Theocharaki 1979; Gauss 2004, 45; Polychronakou-Sgouritsa et al. 2016, 312–314. 398 Polychronakou-Sgouritsa et al. 2016, 312 fig. 19.10. 399 Wickens 1986b, 223–233 no. 43; Petrakos 1996, 86; Privitera 2013, 156 no. 39. 400 Papadimitriou 1958, 20. 401 McCredie 1966, 41 n. 63–65 (references). 402 On the site, see Milchhöfer 1889b, 42–50; Petrakos 1999, 8–10 fig. 3 and 6. 403 Petrakos 1982, 129–131; 1999, 23; 2020, 169f. nos 578, 581–583 fig. 86.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos

. The Upper Plateau of Kiourka with Aphidna In the 2nd millennium BC this great fertile plain was dominated by Aphidna and the hill of Kotroni (F 54).404 At Aphidna, Sam Wide discovered in 1894 a MH tumulus comprising a total of 13 graves of different forms (pithoi, cists, pits).405 The radial placement of the pithoi and the cists is typical of Helladic tumuli. Also typical of Greek mainland burial customs is the position of the burial jars. These do not stand upright, as on Crete,406 but are lying in a horizontal position. As opposed to tumulus I of Vranas, these were plain graves, and not much effort had been expended in their construction. Grave III was a pithos-grave containing the richest burial in the tumulus. On the skull, which was placed at the bottom of the pithos, one silver and six gold rings were recovered.407 It thus comprises one of the rare tombs with metal objects datable prior to the Shaft Grave period. Apart from the gold items, this rich tomb contained unique pottery forms.408 Bowls placed at the opening and above the pithoi (graves I and III) indicate relations with Melos.409 But one bull-shaped vase from the fill of the eastern sector of the tumulus410 has good parallels to Minoan Crete, especially to proto-palatial Phaestos.411 One may conclude from the above that Aphidna was part of an important route of communication. It seems to have connected Attica with Boeotia and perhaps acted as a gateway for trade between the eastern Greek Mainland and the Cyclades/Crete during MH II. The above described architectural variety, the unusual richness of the grave offerings and the integration into a broad exchange system demonstrate an increasing social stratification. There is also an important LH settlement,412 but to the present there are no related published data which would help us understand its character. Since the turn of the 21st century a team from the University of Athens has begun work on the hill of Kotroni (2005)413 and more recently (2019) an interdisciplinary project (“The Kotroni Archaeological Survey Project”) has also initiated work on the same hill.414 It is hoped that soon we will be able to define Aphidna’s regional pattern in the LH period.

 404 Privitera 2013, 156 no. 40. For a good photo of the hill of Aphidna, see Wrede 1934, fig. 5. 405 Wide 1896, 388f. pl. XIII top. 406 Boyd 2002, 70. 407 Wide 1896, 392 no. 4. 408 Hielte-Stavropoulou/Wedde 2002, 23. 409 Hielte-Stavropoulou/Wedde 2002, 24. 410 Hielte-Stavropoulou/Wedde 2002, 23 fig. 1, NM 4705. 411 Guggisberg 1996, 210 n. 890. 412 Phialon 2011, 135 n. 269 (ref.). 413 Papadimitriou-Grammenou/Georgiou-Geka/Petridis 2011. 414 See the website (02/11/2020).

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. The Oropia Petrakos’ surface recoveries in the northern, coastal area of the Oropia in the late 1950s and 1960s firmly established the cultural development in that mesoregion and highlighted three of its main periods: the Shaft Grave Period and the Early Mycenaean Period (Sochoria near Skala Oropou),415 the main palatial period (LH IIIA–IIIB1) (Agioi Anargyroi/Vlastos) 416 and the post-palatial period (LH IIIC) (Amphiareion).417 As far as the Shaft Grave period is concerned, Sochoria near Skala Oropou, a fortified418 place favoured by its overseas trading possibilities, is not a unique case. As demonstrated by archaeological evidence provided by excavations conducted by the Ephoreia in the late 1980s419 and especially in the 1990s,420 another important settlement of the Shaft Grave period was located 4 km to the SW of Skala at the northern foothill of Maurovouno: Palaios Oropos.421 Combining the benefits accruing from a trading centre (Skala) with a profitable hinterland (access to a fertile valley to the south of it), Palaios Oropos fulfils the criteria for being a centre of power during the Shaft Grave period. The presence of high-quality local wares such as the impressive varieties of ‘Polychrome Mainland’422 and ‘Light on Dark’423 wares published from this site suggest that in the Shaft Grave period Palaios Oropos was able to generate sufficient surplus to support its specialization in pottery production. The next important period of the mesoregion is the main palatial period (LH IIIA– IIIB1). In 2001, Michael B. Cosmopoulos proposed, based on data from his Oropos Survey Project, that the LH settlements along the S Euboean Gulf (especially Skala Oropou, Sochoria and Lofos Taktikou) are sited along these coastal valleys at almost predictable distances, i.e. at 2–3 km from each other, and that they constituted coastal sites – potential ports which were important for the Mycenaean maritime trade. He suggested further that all these coastal sites, which were abandoned contemporaneously in LH IIIB1,424 were controlled by a single palatial power, possibly Thebes, because from a geographical point of view a connection to Boeotia from Oropos is easier than one to Athens.425

 415 Petrakos 1974, 97f. pl. 55α, 56. 416 Petrakos 1974, 96f. pl. 54–55β. 417 Petrakos 1974, 98f. pl. 57. 418 Andrikou 2020a, 7 fig. 2; 9 no. 2α. 419 Onassoglou 1989. 420 Agallopoulou 1996. 421 Phialon 2011, 61; Andrikou 2020a, 9 no. 3α. 422 Agallopoulou 1996, pl. 25γ–ε, 26β. 423 Agallopoulou 1996, pl. 26α. 424 Cosmopoulos 2001, 73. 425 Cosmopoulos 2001, 72.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos A different picture emerges, however, from a destruction fill in a building complex in Palaios Oropos. According to the excavator Onassoglou,426 the fill contains several ‘Group A Deep Bowls’ pointing, therefore, to a transitional LH IIIB2–IIIC Early date for the destruction. As far as the abandonment of the sites in the Oropia is concerned, there seems, in other words, to be a contradiction between the results of the survey at the coast and the excavation in the hinterland. But this can be explained. It could be argued that these coastal sites-ports flourished during the main palatial period because they lay on the route to Troy and NW Anatolia, but that they lost their significance after the withering of maritime long-distance trade with that area after LH IIIB1, a situation which, however, left Palaios Oropos, the settlement in the hinterland, more or less unaffected. In this connection it should be noted that the presence in the material at Agioi Anargyroi of a LH IIIA tinned (?) kylix with high-swung handles427 matches that of the N cemetery of Athens,428 indicating that a control of foreign trade in the Oropia from Athens should not be a priori rejected. Finally, a clay model of a ship, which according to Petrakos’ research was found in 1955 in the area of the Amphiareion429 and which typologically belongs to Michael Wedde’s type VI and probably had wheels (used as a toy?), could possibly date to LH IIIC.430 Representing a ship similar to the commercial ones that must have been frequently sighted off eastern Attica during LH IIIC Early, this terracotta model most likely highlights the importance the seaways had in the post-palatial period.

. The Skourta Plain In an attempt to investigate and document the diachronic cultural sequence in the Skourta Plain, Mark Munn undertook in the late 1980s and in the early 1990s intensive fieldwork, including survey and excavation in the area (“Stanford Skourta Plain Project”).431 Concerning the period in question here, careful evaluation of the selected material allowed Munn to conclude that evidence for habitation in the Skourta plain “re-emerged” in the Shaft Grave period.432 The most important of these new settlements –not only during the Shaft Grave era but throughout the Mycenaean period– was Panakton on the SW edge of the plain, which, according to Munn, must have

 426 Onassoglou 1989, 79. 427 Petrakos 1974, pl. 54α. 428 Mountjoy 1995b, 30 fig. 38. 429 Petrakos 1974, 98 pl. 57. 430 Wedde 2003, 291 n. 30. 431 Basic references concerning prehistoric material from this fieldwork are listed in Rutter 2001, 99 n. 18. 432 Munn/Zimmermann Munn 1990, 34.

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controlled the fertile central Skourta basin, the largest area of arable land in this mesoregion.433 Situated at a strategic position in the borderland between Attica and Boeotia, Panakton had also an excellent view of the most direct route between Thebes and Athens,434 and thus the possibility of commanding the borderland between the two regions.435 Furthermore, it controlled the Kokkini valley to the south and thus the plain of Eleusis. As it has been already observed by Maran436 the pattern of the site recalls other strategically significant sites of his ‘Acropolis-type’, such as Kiapha Thiti, which became suddenly important in the Shaft Grave period. The presence of imported Aeginetan pottery in Panakton437 reinforces this connection. The difference between these two sites lies rather in their occupational history: while Kiapha Thiti was abandoned after LH IIB/IIIA1, Panakton was apparently continuously inhabited until the post-palatial period. A variation of this pattern can be identified at some peripheral sites of this mesoregion between the remote Mazareika and the Vountina valleys, more than 10 km NE of Panakton. Two sites are here of importance: (a) Kastro, a MH III–LH I enclosure and (b) Agia Marina, a larger settlement, which can be dated between LH IIIA2 Late and LH IIIC. Both sites are of a defensive character, situated on very steep peaks, surrounded by deep ravines without arable land in the vicinity. It has been argued that during the Mycenaean period the inhabitants of these steep and defensible strongholds of Kastro and Agia Marina were “clinging to autonomy”, reflecting a local tradition (Pelasgians?) and trying to separate themselves from the “Mycenaean domination of the plains and larger valleys”.438 At this point, we should ask, however, how much of this local diversity is attributable to ecological factors. Perhaps all we have to deal with is a diversity in defensive strategies of the Mycenaeans.439

. The Plain of Eleutherai and Oinoe Recently (2014–2017), the study of the archaeology, human ecology, and history of the mountain plain between Attica and Boeotia has shifted towards another borderland with a crossland character: the NW part of the plain of Eleutherai and Oinoe, so called plain of Mazi. Work conducted here under the co-direction of the 3rd Ephoreia (later Ephoreia of West Attica) and the Swiss School of Archaeology in Greece (“The

 433 Munn/Zimmermann Munn 1990, 35 and M. Munn (pers. comm.). 434 Munn 2010, 193. 435 Munn 1996, 48. 436 Maran 1995, 68f. with notes 6–7. 437 Rutter 2001, 127 fig. 12. 438 Munn/Zimmermann-Munn/Zangger 1991, 332. 439 In this context it is important to note that Kastro has been identified by Munn/Zimmermann Munn (1990, 35) “possibly as an outpost of one of the major Mycenaean palatial centers”.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos Mazi Archaeological Project”) has shown that the area constituted a coherent regional system/entity and as far as the Mycenaean period is concerned, it possessed a clear settlement pattern. The three main and local Mycenaean settlements incorporated within this system appear to have been established to take particular advantage of the strategic location of the mesoregion: (a) A concentration of LH sherds NW of Oinoe is at a point of access from the East to the plain of Mazi,440 (b) a concentration near at least one LH II cist-grave at Eleutherai, discovered by the Ephoreia in the 1980s,441 was possibly connected with a contemporaneous roadway or path,442 and (c) an MH III/LH concentration at a topographically prominent hill (marked as “C064”) to the northern edge of the plain of Mazi is compared by the authors with Kiapha Thiti.443 It should be noted that, broadly speaking, the Skourta plain and the Mazi plain share similarities, not only in their use of strategic locations, but also by the fact that after an apparently long gap in their settlement history (EH II–MH II) both mesoregions became suddenly important in the Shaft Grave period.444 A possible difference between them, as suggested by the conductors of the Mazi survey, is that the Mazi plain set-up was designed in conjunction with a system of paths and roadways. The abandonment of the mesoregion after c. 1200 BC (a gap that according to present evidence lasted for 600 years) suggests that the system failed after the important alliances of the Mycenaean period had broken down.

. Salamis Until recently,445 when dealing with Mycenaean Salamis we had only the cemeteries to depend on. Leaving aside the later, well-known, Submycenaean cist-tomb cemetery at Paloukia, so-called Arsenal (Nafstathmos) cemetery (F 10) and its special relation to the Pompeion cemetery at Kerameikos,446 the evidence consisted mainly of chamber-tomb cemeteries of the Mycenaean palatial period. Extensive cemeteries such as those of Agia Kyriaki at the E slopes of Prophitis Ilias at Koulouri (modern Salamis) (F 12)447 and especially a series of cemeteries along the E coast of the island such as Ambelakia (F11) and Chalioti448 are indicative of the growth of the population

 440 Fachard/Knodell/Banou 2015, 182; Knodell/Fachard/Papangeli 2016, 138. 149; 2017, 160. 441 Baziotopoulou-Valavani 1985. 442 Knodell/Fachard/Papangeli 2017, 157. 443 Papangeli/Fachard/Knodell 2018, 160f. 444 Knodell/Fachard/Papangeli 2017, 160 n. 33. 445 Benzi 1975, 161–172; Anastasiou-Alexopoulou 1998, 148 n. 1; 2003, 103 (LH IIA–IIIAC Early). 446 On the chronological relationship between the Salaminian and the Athenian cemetery, see Ruppenstein 2007, 242. 447 Davaras 1965, 125f. pl. 98–103; Benzi 1975, 162. 166–172 pl. II–II; Anastasiou-Alexopoulou 1991. 448 Lolos 1995, 297 n. 15 (ref.).

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

during the palatial period. As in the case of the west-coast cemeteries in the Athenian sub-mesoregion 4b, the density of the small settlements corresponding to these cemeteries449 as well the duration of the exploitation (c. 250 years) are indicative of some kind of stability, which in turn implies the existence of a leadership enabling the same. But which Mycenaean settlement in Salamis would have been complex enough to provide that sort of leadership? As implied above, areas with domestic architecture have been only recently uncovered, in investigations conducted by the Ephoreia at Koulouri and by the University of Ioannina at Kanakia. The very promising new excavations, begun at Koulouri in 2008 by the former 26th Ephoreia under the direction of Triantaphyllia Kattoula, are revealing part of a planned Mycenaean settlement (town) with a differentiated pattern of usage. These limited contexts give us, of course, just restricted views into the domestic quarters, and unfortunately do not allow a fuller reconstruction of the layout of the city, which is covered by the modern town of Salamis. However, the already published evidence suggests that during the Mycenaean palatial period Koulouri had, besides ordinary buildings,450 workshops both for pottery production451 (something long suspected from the study of the funeral material apparently from this settlement)452 and for the production of something involving steatite (judging by the presence in an LH IIIA–B layer of burnt remains of the very soft raw material, easily workable with the associated obsidian blades).453 Furthermore, in 2009 the discovery in the locality of Tsami (in addition to the MH III–LH I cemetery with grave circles found in 2008 in the locality Kastro)454 of a cist-grave containing multiple (nine) burials accompanied with prestigious metal objects of the LH I–IIA period is significant. The funerary goods, comparable with those of the shaft graves of Mycenae, included such as a bronze pin with a rock crystal head, a Type A bronze sword (indicative for a high rank male individual) or two pairs of bronze scales.455 This grave, as well as others associated with Early Mycenaean material,456 indicate that Koulouri possessed a hierarchical society already during the Shaft Grave period. According to our present knowledge, this is a unique instance on Salamis during the Shaft Grave and the Early Mycenaean periods.457 It is reasonable, therefore, to suggest, that in Koulouri, a site which owed its importance to its very favourably geographical position (well protected harbour, close proximity to  449 Chairetakis 2018, 47f. (evidence for settlement material). 450 Kattoula 2009, 249 n. 16. 451 Chairetakis 2018, 46 n. 191 (ref.). 452 Anastasiou-Alexopoulou 1991, 166 n. 161. 453 Kattoula 2009, 249f. n. 18. 454 Kattoula 2008, 213f.; Chairetakis 2018, 45 n. 187 (further references). 455 Kattoula 2009, 245 n. 1 fig. 45; 2020, 641f. fig. 8. 456 Kattoula 2009, 246f. n. 4–5. 457 Chairetakis 2018, 49 n. 211.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos the Megarid, access to the fertile valley of Vassilika)458 was the base of the elite responsible for the organization of these east coast settlements/cemeteries. The second place of especial interest is the town of Kanakia, which lies on a commanding hillside SW of Salamis (probably controlling the sea route of the western Saronic Gulf). In 1999, Yannos G. Lolos discovered here an important LH IIIA2 Late/B1–LH IIIC Early settlement,459 which led to the systematic excavation of the site from 2000 onwards. In the last 20 years these excavations, carried out under the auspices of the University of Ioannina, have revealed a representative settlement (urban) complex consisting of an acropolis with several multiroomed buildings on its higher terraces, among them (a) the central building complex Γ including a double megaron460 dated to LH IIIB2–IIIC Early,461 (b) the eastern building complex, an industrial complex consisting of Buildings ΙΑ, ΙΒ and ΙΔ and two harbours (to the W the bay of Kanakia and to the S the bay of Pyrgiakoni). The site was partially destroyed by fire in the earliest phase of LH IIIC. After a short reoccupation in one area, it was abandoned in LH IIIC Early and never reoccupied. According to Christina Marabea’s analysis, Buildings IA, IB and ΙΔ were used for lapidary craftmanship, colour industry, the repairing of bronze tools and possibly for the manufacturing of jewellery.462 Building’s ΙΔ association with the repair or production of bronze tools, is further indicated by the bronze tools found in a hoard of bronze objects deposited in the floor of an anteroom in the upper wing of the building. Here was also found the piece of a military corselet, with the name of Ramses II (1279–1213 BC).463 Considering how well Kanakia was organized, with its planned building lay-out and the organization of a considerable labour-force, it all suggests that some type of central leadership existed during the construction of the site in LH IIIB1. The analysis of objects and especially of the pottery, as discussed by Lolos and Marabea, provides information regarding trade with Cyprus, the Dodecanese, and especially Attica464 and Aegina.465 A raw copper oxhide ingot from Cyprus466 for example strongly suggests that an exchange system of some sort with Cyprus must have existed during the final palatial

 458 Chairetakis 2018, 46. 459 Lolos 2007; 2013, 83; Marabea 2019, 450. 460 Lolos 2013, 84 fig. 10. 461 Lolos 2007, 222. 225. 462 Marabea 2010, 254. 257. 259. 263–264. 272. 463 Marabea 2010, 257; Lolos 2013, 84 fig. 13. 464 Marabea 2011, 14 fig. 6 and 8. 465 Marabea 2019 (especially cooking pottery). 466 Lolos 2007, 225 fig. 13. On the special relationship between Kanakia and Cyprus during this period, see ibid. 229 fig. 17.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

period. The corselet with the name of Ramses II argues for elite alliances or links with specific groups with elite alliances. Ceremonies (ritual meetings and communal meals) performed at the neighbouring acropolis of Pyrgiakoni –where a cult building with a large hypostyle hall and a hearth,467 all associated with a Mycenaean monumental tumulus,468 was discovered in 2011– could have provided a milieu for exchanging these goods. Marabea has suggested469 that since Salamis was in antiquity well known for its pines, pine resin and its derivatives may have functioned as a focus of exchange, for example as tar for waterproofing naval ships. Archaeological data neither denies nor confirms this suggestion. There is a lack of features within these buildings which can be clearly correlated with storage of resin, unless the clay bath tubs found covered with lime plaster in their interior would have serve this purpose.470 In summary, Kanakia may have functioned as a port-of-trade and a centre of craftmanship within this Attic mesoregion in the 13th century BC. Lolos has presented a strong case for the existence of a complex social organization here during the 13th century.

 Concluding Remarks About Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica As demonstrated by the archaeological evidence within the 20 mesoregions reviewed separately in this work, from the Shaft Grave period (“Middle Bronze Age C” in Jeremy Rutter’s terms)471 onwards several sites in Attica became centres of power, although with distinctive characteristics. Though there exist discrete features to be associated specifically with the mesoregions, these nuclei of power yet share a common feature: they were firstly located in places favourable to conduct overseas trading and secondly enjoyed a productive hinterland (e.g. Eleusis, Plasi, Koulouri on Salamis, Palaios Oropos), which made it possible to produce a surplus and consequently left members of their community free to establish a more complex division of labour (for example to construct a fortification as in the case of Kiapha Thiti).472 The Shaft Grave era is a period of noticeable cultural change compared with the preceding MH I–II (“Middle Bronze Age B” in Rutter’s terms): the architectural evidence (funerary and domestic) on these new sites reflects significant social stratification and political authority not easily discerned in the earlier phases of the MH. Settlement geography  467 Lolos 2013, fig. 15. 468 Lolos 2013, 86 fig. 14. 469 Marabea 2010, 277. 470 Marabea 2010, 268f.; 2011, 17. 471 Rutter 2017, 27 table 2.1. 472 Phialon 2011, 156.

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos suggests that, as elsewhere in the Aegean,473 an increasingly competitive political landscape emerged, as the elites established their own sites. It appears that during this period Attica was split into several independent political units. Thorikos is an exception to this pattern. It displays an unparalleled level of variation in elite funerary architecture, but it cannot be considered as a typical centre of power like all the other agricultural communities, as current scholarship would have it. It represents a concentration of metal-working communities, not farming ones. Moreover, the complex architectural forms are not indigenous to the Lavriotiki: it is therefore difficult to imagine that such complex architectural forms could have originated in Thorikos itself. The funerary arrangements rather reflect the standard forms of the west Marathonian and Eleusinian traditions. In contrast to this marked cultural diversity of MH III/LH I, the following LH IIA– B period sees stronger interregional links developing within Attica, with a widespread movement of concepts and goods, principally the chamber-tomb and the fine Mycenaean decorated pottery. A range of new chamber-tomb cemeteries are founded now, such as the cemetery at Agia Kyriaki on Salamis, those of the Attic west coast or those of Kolikrepi and Brauron in Mesogaia, amongst others. Furthermore, the presence of palatial jars (LH IIA) on the Acropolis suggests that the Athenian rock had taken on in the 15th century BC much of the symbolic meaning and ceremonial function of a centralized sociopolitical and religious nucleus of power, and this well before the 13th century BC when a Cyclopean fortification and a palace where built there. This suggests that the ‘regionalistic’ development of the Shaft Grave period was cut short: arguably after a centralized authority had been established and Attica was unified under a single ruler. It is not surprising therefore that in the second half of this period, in LH IIB, many of the facets of social organization that are habitually viewed as arising at the start of the palatial period (images of power, signs of ranking in both burial and settlement contexts) were actually already in place. It seems that this period in Attica is especially affected by Minoan cultural (?) influence (e.g. the Minoan style lead figurine in Glyka Nera). At the end of this period (after the transition of LH IIB/IIIA1, probably in LH IIIA1) a widespread horizon of changes throughout Attica can be observed. This is expressed by (a) the accumulation of mainly ceramic material in the wells south of the Acropolis probably after a disruption on the Acropolis itself, (b) the abandonment of the fortified acropolis of Kiapha Thiti, which flourished in LH I–II, (c) the surrounding with a peribolos wall of the ceremonial places in Eleusis and Brauron. One is inclined to think that these changes are linked in some way with the destruction of the palace of Knossos in LM IIIA. This occurrence reflects the evolving settlement pattern of Attica during this period: while settlements located on commanding positions (on the top of the acropolis)  473 Rutter 2017, 25f.

Cultural Variation in Mycenaean Attica. A Mesoregional Approach  

and thus fulfilling mainly defensive functions were declining, locations on the slopes (e.g. the slopes of Kiapha Thiti) or in open valleys and plains became more popular, suggesting a change in settlement patterns. A sudden increase in small, low-lying coastal sites (e.g. Skala Oropou) indicates regular commercial contacts. Most of the sites of the previous period, notably those founded towards the end of the phase (Palaio Phalero, Agios Kosmas, Voula/Alyki, Vouliagmeni, Pikermi), continued to exist in LH IIIA, and –with the exception of Agios Kosmas– possibly became larger, judging from the number of tombs found in their cemeteries. Attica shows a very active image during LH IIIA2.474 Connections to the palatial economy of Crete are attested in Eleusis (Linear B-inscribed jar), while a group of interesting shoe-shaped clay rhyta from the chamber-tombs in Alyki at Voula475 and Pikermi476 demonstrate clear influence from the Hittite sphere. Mycenaean harbours like those identified by the honoree on the coasts of the Oropia, in the south Euboean gulf, were probably engaged in maritime trade with Western Anatolia. LH IIIB1 sees another new stage in the cultural development of Attica. A series of important new sites were founded in order to control trade in the interior, but also overseas. These events were contemporary with the new building program in Mycenae (construction of the Lion Gate, enclosure of Grave Circle A within the fortification wall, construction of the Panagia houses near the Atreus-tholos, etc.).477 It has been suggested478 that, judging by the display of funeral architecture, Athens itself was not particularly important during this period. However, the significant change in the settlement pattern mentioned above may have been due in part to emerging elites changing their strategy and arenas of competitive display from the burial ground to the settlement. The substantial deposits of LH IIIB1 fine-ware drinking and feasting vessels from the Acropolis of Athens point to the continued special function and nature of the site, while the monumental tombs constructed for the first time in Menidi and Spata suggest, as already stated, a new focus of public display and ceremony, apparently at places where trade transactions had taken place. Destructions and abandonments throughout Attica marked the end of LH IIIB or the early stages of LH III C Early. Leaving Perati aside (a rather short existence, and a phenomenon without significant long-term effects for the subsequent history of Attica), it is again Athens that takes the initiative in the post-palatial age: conducting religious rituals on its Acropolis, Athens looks to reinvest in the values of the Mycenaean palatial period, and to build on their solid foundations in the forthcoming ages.479 So, it became the focus and dynamo of life in Attica for the next centuries.  474 Demakopoulou 2005, 281. 475 Papadimitriou 1955, 94–96 pl. 25β–γ (grave Gamma); Paschalidis 2002/03, fig. 1, left; 2–6. 476 Paschalidis 2002/03, fig. 7–12. 477 Mountjoy 1993, 142-150. 478 Ruppenstein 2010, 30; Papadimitriou 2017, 5 §2; Papadimitriou/Cosmopoulos 2020, 378. 479 Kalogeropoulos (in press).

  Konstantinos Kalogeropoulos This evolution would have a significant impact, not only in Attica but also for the Greek world over the next millennium.

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Emanuele Greco

Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence Comme de nombreux exemples l’indiquent, lorsqu’un héros n’existait pas, il fallait l’inventer A.M. Snodgrass, 1982 The gods are remote, the heroes are near at hand W. Burkert, 1985

Abstract: The literary sources provide us with some information about the heroic cults reserved for the founders of cities, as we can read in the classic works of Roland Martin and Angelo Brelich, for example. Herodotus (6.38) reminds us that the cult of the oikist in the Greek poleis was a nomos. The situation looks very different, however, if we limit ourselves to the archaeological evidence, which cannot always be directly attributed to the ritual practice. This article examines some emblematic cases. We begin with the dedication to Antiphemus, oikist of Gela, represented in a graffito on the base of an Attic kylix of the end of the sixth century; this is followed by an analysis of the sources relating to the herōon of Theseus in Athens. The two cases allow us to compare a mythical hero (Theseus) with a historical one (Antiphemus), which also clearly illustrates the difference between the traditions of Greece and that of the apoikiai. We then pass to a discussion of the Cyrene documentation (the mnēma of Battus, whose identification as a herōon is, archaeologically, the most secure) and to the cases of Selinunte, Iasus and Poseidonia, proposing, for each one, a critical reading of the archaeological evidence.

Herodotos (6.38), after mentioning that Miltiades (the Elder) died childless and left his power and wealth to his half-brother Stesagoras, son of Cimon, states that on his death the Chersonesians sacrificed as was the custom for an oikist and organized a horse-race and athletic competition, from which the people of Lampsacus were banned because, after capturing him, they only liberated him at the forceful intervention of Croesus. We must begin from this fixed point: to honour an oikist there was for the Greeks a nomos, applicable in any part of the world a polis was established. Alongside the quote from Herodotus’ citation, we can place two other literary relevant documents. The first is the scholium to Pindar (Ol. I.149) which strongly reaffirms the tradition of burying the oikist within the walls, stating that: oi oikistai en mesais tais polesin ethaptonto ex ethous. The second, even more extraordinary, document is the

https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-012

  Emanuele Greco famous fragment 50 of book II of the Aetia of Callimachus, rich with learned quotations typical of the gifted poet.1 At the banquet attended by the Muses, the invited poet wants to know why “no city at the ritual banquet permits the name of he who built their walls to remain unknown”, there is yet one city in which this event does not occur, in other words there actually exists a place in which the founder is invited, but without being named. The implicit reference is to Zankle: Clio, the Muse of History, explains it thus, summarizing the events which brought about the anonymous cult of the oikist. The Cumaeans (of Cuma in Opicia) and the Chalcidians, led by Perieres and Cratemenes (as we also know from Thuc. 6.4.5–6), founded Zankle, but did not pay attention to the flight of the harpasos, a bird of prey, which was not an auspicious act for someone founding a city. For this reason the two oikists argued over the right to be considered as the founder. The Oracle of Delphi punished both of them, decreeing that neither should be recognized as the oikist of the city (and here the Muse, with a certain wit, warns the poet that if one day he should wish to found a city, to ensure beforehand that he has favourable omens). Thus, from that time onwards the magistrates invited the founder to the banquet without pronouncing his name, but added that he had the right to get involved, and accompany the other heroes. This final detail is not without importance, because it implicitly acknowledges the parity of his treatment with other personages (oikists of later epochs? or persons elevated to heroic status for other merits?).2 The fragment of Callimachus was the object of an exemplary comment by Gaetano de Santis,3 who took the opportunity (equally relevant even today) to observe how the preservation of the names of the oikists allows us to put a stop to the hypercritical interpretations of Greek colonization (the reference here was to Pais, but it is worth remembering the valid point of view of the great Italian historian in the context of the debates of today4). For de Sanctis, the anomaly revealed by Callimachus is explained by the events of Zankle and by the numerous changes of citizens it underwent from the foundation until 494 BC (the arrival of the Samians), but we could add to the list those of successive periods too.5

 1 Massimilla 1996, 54–83, fr. 50; according to Suda (s. v. Καλλίμαχος) Callimachus wrote a work entitled Κτίσεις νήσων καὶ πόλεων καί μετονομασίαι (see Vallet 1958, 62 n. 3). 2 Bacci et al. 2012, 933–938 present a find of extraordinary interest from Messina in which the ashes and the remains of collective meals are associated by scholars with the ritual banquet for the oikists, of which Callimachus speaks. Obviously, this association can not be accepted ut sic, but the archaeological discovery is of enormous importance in the context of our knowledge of public banquets of the archaic period. 3 De Sanctis 1966. 4 See Malkin 2002; Moggi 2003; Mele 2007. 5 Massimilla 1996, 340, with bibliography relating to the possibility of also inserting in this long list of changes in the inhabitants both the repopulation of Zankle after the Carthaginian destruction of 396 BC (on the argument, see also Vallet 1958, 61–63) and also the Mamertine occupation of 288 BC.

Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence  

In the immense bibliography on Greek heroes, Angelo Brelich’s monograph6 still retains a role of primary importance today. Brelich, having declared his debt to the philological work of Friedrich Pfister, of Paul Foucart and of Lewis R. Farnell,7 to cite the most important contributors, directs his research to the historical-religious status of the hero in his diverse manifestations (as warrior, the hiatrica, divination etc.). In the context of the aspects which we are dealing with here the chapter on ‘the hero and the city’ is important:8 here mythical heroes and historical personages are treated together, documented by numerous examples taken from the literature.9 At the end of his detailed analysis, Brelich denies that the founder of a city was a particular type of hero; he states that rather than listing ‘types of founders’, one could create a typology of foundations.10 This is a very perceptive and highly valid comment, because if the cult of the founder is a nomos universally respected by the Greeks, as has been said, yet the typology of the foundations, which cannot all be assigned to the same category, is very different.11 A decisive turning point in the studies defining the figure of the founder hero came later from the contributions of Claude Bérard and of Anthony Snodgrass. First, though, I believe it is useful to clarify some aspects of the similar cults reserved for mythical and ancestral heroes, in particular those which could only derive from (the conditional is obligatory) archaeological sources. After the contribution of Hadzisteliou Price on the relationship between the heroes and Homer,12 as regards the cult of the Ancestors, the argument became the object of Antonaccio’s monograph13 for a long time the fundamental work of reference. After the survey by Alexander Mazarakis Ainian who, generally speaking, confirms Antonaccio’s approach,14 recent critical re-analyses, carried out above all by James Whitley and by Paola Contursi,15 compel us to use caution in the often hurried interpretation of the material evidence. There is an attendant danger in attempting to distinguish the cults granted to mythical heroes, prompted by the discovery or the survival of the Mycenaean tombs (for  6 Brelich 1958. 7 Pfister 1910–12; Foucart 1918; Farnell 1921. 8 Brelich 1978, 129–141. 9 On this argument, see also Martin 1951, 194–204; Burkert 1985, 203–208 and Boehringer 1996 who examines the heroization of historical characters. 10 Brelich 1958, 138f. 11 This is what is maintaied by Greco-Lombardo 2012, concerning Greek colonization in the West. 12 Hadzisteliou Price 1973. 13 Antonaccio 1995, where the author examines the problem of the heroic cults in colonization from the point of view of the literature, limiting himself to listing the names of the oikists known from the sources. Compare also Antonaccio 1999. 14 See Mazarakis Ainian 1999 and 2017. 15 Whitley 2002, especially 124; in Contursi 2013 the conclusions are convincing, which invite us to look again at the whole business of ‘tomb cult’, given that that not all the proposed hypotheses stand up to a severe critical examination of the archaeological evidence.

  Emanuele Greco example), from the cults reserved for ancestors, without the existence of any secure material basis: this situation inexorably precludes any unequivocal interpretion. But, apart from this, if we return to the cult of the oikist, the latter practice is out of the question. Bérard has called the custom of granting post mortem honours to the founder of the city “récupérer la mort du prince”,16 supporting a close relationship between heroization and the formation of the polis. His thinking observably starts from the famous hērōon at the western gate of Eretria; reflecting on the context of this monument, Bérard states a justly illuminating fact: the sceptres, which until then had passed from hand to hand, are now buried. But, in my opinion, the greatest importance of the contribution of the Swiss scholar lies in having highlighted the differences between the hērōs ktistēs of the mother country and that of the colonies (or in general of the cities founded in more recent periods where our documentation is sufficiently reliable). The oikists of Magna Grecia and Sicily did not have royal prestige in the mother country, although in the colonies we must not underestimate all the manoeuvres aimed at promoting the emergence of the local aristocracies17 a factor which, as we shall see, should at least indicate their historical authenticity, a situation not pertaining to the oikists of the native country who were mythical. Snodgrass18 takes credit for having revealed the dependence of the heroic cult on the Homeric poems,19 demonstrating how in Homer and Hesiod the concept of hērōs refers to a living person, one who, in fact, carries out heroic feats. Finally, for Snodgrass, the heroic cult was closely linked to the ‘rise of the polis’, in which our attention must concentrate on the oikist, whose cult, as the British scholar states, is not a prehistoric practice, but derives from ‘morte recente’.20 At this point my paper sets out to show, through case studies documented archaeologically, the diversity of the honours granted to the founder hero, which, according to Brelich’s observation, in the context of a ritual practice broadly respected by everyone, will yet depend on the diversity of the situations, traditions and history, as applicable city by city.

Antiphemus of Gela I shall begin with an artefact, recovered over a century ago, during the legendary excavations of Paolo Orsi.21 It is the base of a black-glaze Attic kylix (fig. 1), dating be-

 16 Bérard 1982. 17 Bérard 1983, 58–9, note 63. 18 Snodgrass 1982 and 1988; on the argument, see also Burkert 1985, 203. 19 A theory supported especially by Coldstream 1976. 20 Snodgrass 1988, 23. 21 Orsi 1900 and 1906.

Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence  

tween the end of the 6th and the beginning of the 5th centuries BC, found in the excavation at the foot of the hill of Calvario at Gela. This carries, in graffito and in Doric lettering, the dedication to Antiphemus (Mnasithalēs anethekē Antiphamōi). Given that it is an anthroponym and not a theonym, there can be no doubt that Antiphemus is to be identified with one of the oikists of Gela, as indeed we learn from the Sicilian archaiologhia of Thucydides (6.4.3: forty five years after the foundation of Syracuse, Antiphemus and Entimus as leading colonists – the first from Rhodes, the second from Crete – jointly founded Gela). Orsi’s comment is exemplary (remember that it was written in 1900): “That Antiphemus had a cult in Gela was really not known until now, although in general the cult of the oikisti eroizzati is so obvious, normal in Greek cities”.22 Unfortunately, the fact that the modern city overlies the ancient centre has prevented an accurate archaeological analysis of the monument, which is presumed to be located in the upper part of the city, perhaps in the agora. Therefore, the vessel fragment is the only evidence of the heroic cult of the oikist of Gela. Here, two factors need to be taken into consideration. The first regards the dedication only to the Rhodian oikist and not involving the other, the Cretan (indicated by Thucydides as coming from the island of Crete and not from a particular city). Must we infer from this that each of the two population components venerated its own oikist? It does not seem possible, if we believe that around two centuries had passed sinced its foundation, which by the words of Thucydides we must fix around 688 BC, a period unless, at limit, one faction had not prevailed over the other. The second point regards the chronology of the vessel fragment; clearly this is an argumentum ex abstentia, because we do not know if the cult existed earlier. The late date can be explained as indicating a revival of the memory of the founder. Antiphemus is therefore a historical character who was honoured (we do not know from when), but certainly by around 500 BC, namely the period of the kylix.

 22 The quote is that of Orsi 1900, 275; further comments on the kylix of Antiphemus in Guarducci 1949–51; Guarducci 1959-60 and Orlandini 1968, 44–5.

  Emanuele Greco

Fig. 1: Gela. Attic kylix with dedication to Antiphemus (from Orsi 1900).

Theseus and Athens Only a quarter of a century later, the Athenians completed the task of bringing back home Theseus, the national hero, who, according to the myth died far from home, at Skyros. There is a vast literature on this argument, also recent.23 Here I will only give a brief summary, though we shall dwell a little longer on the place whither the bones were transported. To set the phenomenon in its historical context, we must make it clear that Theseus is the hero of synecism, elevated to a father-figure by the Athenian democracy; he is not the founder of the city, a role which the Athenians assigned instead to Erechtheus/Erichthonius and to his extremely close relationship with Athena and the myth of autochthony.24 But Athens needed its hero, at least from the period of Solon, when around 570 BC the figure of Theseus comes to dominate the imagery,

 23 R. di Cesare’s book includes a precise and well-documented summary of the historical event (Di Cesare 2015, 77–81) with the essential bibliography. 24 See Brelich 1958, 130; on autochthony, see in particular Loraux 1981, 35–73: “ceux d’Athènes et le peuple d’Erechthée sont des synonymes” (36 note 5), on the strong presence of Theseus as evident not on the acropolis, but in the lower part of the city, see Luce 1998.

Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence  

especially that of the figured vases.25 It was Cimon who physically fulfilled this need. Such an operation was intended to bring back home the bones of heroes lost overseas and served to maintain the equilibrium in internal politics: for example the repatriation of the bones of Orestes or those of Tisamenus at Sparta.26 As we learn from Plutarch (Thes. 36. 2; Cim. 8.7), the expedition against Skyros, motivated by the aggression of the Dolopian pirates, was the opportunity both to revenge Theseus’ death at the hands of the king-brigand Lycomedes, as Pausanias also states (1.17.6), and to bring the bones of the hero back to the Athens. Cimon’s exhumation party, after identifying the tomb, satisfyingly found the remains of a gigantic body (obviously gigantic: how could Theseus be of merely mortal stature?) with, next to him, a bronze spear and sword. What interests us here is to follow Plutarch’s account (together with that of Pausanias in order to identify the place where the bones were deposited) with some help from the archaeological evidence. We shall base our arguments on two elements: the first is the Plutarchean mention ἐν μέσῃ τῇ πόλει, in the middle of the city, which, without a shade of doubt, indicates not the geometrical but the metaphorical political centre par excellence, that is the agora. The second complicates the question because, thanks to Pausanias, we can establish that the Theseion was situated in a place far from the present Athenian agora, at least this is what we know thanks to the important American excavations. The route of the Periegeta is clear: after the agora and the altar of the Pietà, Pausanias (1.17.1–1.18.3) describes the gymnasium of Ptolemy, the Theseion, the Anakeion, the sanctuary of Aglaurus, and the prytaneum. Two archaeological discoveries allow us to create links between Pausanias’s text and the physical places: the discoveries of the stele of Aglaurus found in situ and those made around the church of H. Dimitris Katephoris.27 It follows that prior to the agora becoming situated on the eastern slopes of the Kolonòs agoraios, which certainly did not occur before the 6th century BC and perhaps not even before the end of that century, the Athenian agora must have been on the eastern slopes of the Acropolis.28 A further problem regards the chronology. This is not easily resolved due to the lack of archaeological documentation (something that is difficult to obtain, given that the sanctuary

 25 Von den Hoff 2010, 164 underlines the emergence of the myth of Theseus much earlier than Marathon and the development not of new stories but of “new modes of telling these stories” after Cleisthenes. On the construction of the figure of Theseus, see Turner 2015. 26 See Huxley 1970, 67f.; Di Cesare 2015, 78. 27 On the discoveries which took place after the demolition of the church of H. Dimitris Katephoris, see Greco 2011, 551–553 (Di Cesare). On the Aglaurion, see Dontas 1983. 28 See Greco 2014a with bibliography and discussion. The point of view of Marchetti 2017 is also interesting: although agreeing on the location of the prytaneum, the author does not particularly believe (99) in the existence of an agora archaia on the eastern slopes of the acropolis, where the prytaneum, seat of the archon, was situated but where assemblies were not held, because they would not have existed in the Archaic period.

  Emanuele Greco lies under the houses of the Plaka). According to Aristotle (Ath. Pol. 15.4), the cult place already existed at the time of Peisistratus: Cimon increased its importance with adding the bones of the hero and embellished it with the paintings of Mikon and perhaps also of Polygnotus.29 In other words, we are to believe that the sanctuary originated with Cimon. Personally, I prefer the first hypothesis, i.e. the age of Peisistratus, if we consider that the site chosen by Cimon is based solely on the pre-existence of the hērōon of Theseus. Cimon did not have any choice on the matter. Otherwise, he could have placed the remains of the hero in the area, namely the north side of the agora of the Kerameikòs, where par excellence the glories of his father and of his family were extolled, as he had earlier done with the hermes of Eiones, only a couple of years before the expedition to Skyros.30

The Tomb of Battus, Oikist of Cyrene The archaeological evidence for this monument is the most reliable of all those concerned with a founder’s cult. Its discovery now dates to over half a century ago, occurring at the beginning of the 1960s and satisfactorily published by Sandro Stucchi, director of the Italian mission at Cyrene, in 1965.31 The careful stratigraphical excavation allowed the scholar to reconstruct the diverse phases of the monument which continued down the years from the 6th century BC to the 1st century AD, with some changes, to act as a marker of the memory of the ktisis of Cyrene. The historical reconstruction, in this exceptional case, uses two fundamental elements: above all the excavation, but also Pindar’s account in verses 93–98 of the Pythica V, composed in honour of Arcesilaus IV, victor at the games of Delphi in 462 BC. The poet writes that [Battus] lies ἔνθα πρυμνοῖς ἀγορᾶς, which Stucchi interprets as the ‘stern’ of the agora, using the metaphor of a ship. However, the more recent and now generally accepted translation is that of Gentili who interprets ἔνθα πρυμνοῖς ἀγορᾶς more convincingly as “at the far end of the square”.32 Apart from this, we know for certain that the tomb of Battus was in the agora of Cyrene. Furthermore, the poet (who had not seen the monument, but which he describes thanks to the testimony of Cyrenean informants) also specifies that this privilege was reserved only for the founder, while the other kings, even though define as sacred, were buried πρό δωμάτων, in front of the houses, an expression which clearly indicates the necropolis outside the city. Therefore, the archaeological evidence not only confirms the indications of Pindar  29 See Di Cesare 2015, 96–105. 30 See Di Cesare 2015, 59–62. 31 See Stucchi 1965, 58–60; 111–113; 139–142. 32 See Santucci 2016, 179f. who cites Gentili’s translation, giving the reasons as to why it is preferable.

Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence  

and his scholiasts,33 but enriches the dossier, providing information on the history of the monument subsequent to its situation at the time of the V Pythica of Pindar. The first phase consists of the cremation tomb, with the ashes collected in a pit 0.20 m deep, under a stone paving, in turn covered by a tumulus of 6.20 m in diameter. With good sense, the excavator hypothesizes that the deceased had actually been buried elsewhere, and that his ashes were later translated here, in the first quarter of the 6th century BC, judging by the archaeological evidence which dates the deposition and the tumulus. The latter was then dismantled in antiquity. A similar tumulus, set over a stone cist with a flat cover, was raised nearby: of the same dimensions as the earlier tomb, it is roughly datable to the 5th century BC. Finally in the 4th century BC, the hērōon took the form of a cist grave with a gabled and sloping roof, set within a peribolus which enclosed a rectangular space (fig. 2). A final note is necessary, regarding the position of the tumulus – hērōon in the agora, on which point there are diverse opinions. Ida Baldassare34 has hypothesized that the tumulus was situated in the open countryside and not on the acropolis, which location could fit with the setting of the archaic city, before the urbanization of its lower part. This hypothesis recalls the keen observation of Roland Martin,35 who maintained that the tomb of the hero attracted political assemblies. This would mean that the agora was established in the place where the hēros ktistēs was already buried (and not the other way about): for example, we can recall in the Iliad (10.414–415) the assembly convocated by Hector near the tomb of Ilos.36 More recently, Anna Santucci,37 based on new documentation, has argued that the tomb of Battus was placed in the agora after or contemporary with the urbanization of the lower part, attracted by the route of the famous Skyrotà (the paved road) which crossed the city from west to east. However, the decision to create an inseparable connection between the agora and the hērōs ktistēs was clearly fundamental from the very start of the town planning.

 33 For the scholiasts of Pindar, see the collection and comment of Stucchi 1965, 64f. 34 Baldassare 1999: the scholar sustains there was a relationship between the tomb and the agrarian land owned by the hero, which then became the pivot of the agora, while his hetairoi were buried elsewhere; on the construction of Cyrene’s past, see Giangiulio 2007. 35 Martin 1951, 194; for a similar example of the relationship hero tomb-agora, see Heraclea Pontica in Cordano 2017. 36 Martin 1951, 47. 37 Santucci 2016.

  Emanuele Greco

Fig. 2: Cyrene. The heroon of Battus (from Stucchi 1965).

Megara Hyblaea: the Hērōon – Oikopedon The excavation of the agora and the exemplary nature of the publication of the monuments of Megara Hyblaea provide us with another, totally different, case: that of heroization. On this are built the interpretative hypotheses proposed by the French archaeologists, who open up new horizons of great relevance, without ever forming dogmatic conclusions. There emerges a range of possibilities which lend themselves to discussions rich with innovative hypotheses. In the first publication of the monuments of the quartier de l’agora archaïque,38 Georges Vallet, François Villard and Paul Auberson had identified in the northwest corner of the square a building which they interpreted as a hērōon (fig. 3) The structure has a rectangular ground-plan, “un faux rectangle” (12.80 × 9.85 m) divided in two: a cult function is primarily suggested by the presence of a row of six stone cavities (cupules) on the eastern facade at the level of the entrance towards the square. The monument has been dated to around 630 BC. Its identification as a hērōon has been confirmed by recent studies which have seen substantial progress, above all thanks to the research of Michel Gras and Henri Treziny. In effect, after the careful study of the distribution of the urban lots, made possible thanks to a long campaign of very well-documented excavations, we now know the dimensions of the single lot used in the urban division a few decades after the ktisis. According to Gras and Treziny, the foundation took place around 730 BC, while the urban division into lots dates to ca. 700 BC. The most interesting discovery which accords with the argument we are discussing is precisely concerned with the hērōon  38 Vallet et al. 1976, 209–211.

Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence  

of the agora, because its ground-dimensions correspond with that of an oikopedon of the urban division. In this paper, I will not discuss the relationship that Gras and Treziny strongly hold between the urban division into three parts (based on the distribution of the urban quarters) and the social organization of the polis. This is an argument vital to be studied in more depth, given its extreme interest, due to the rarity, not to say the uniqueness, of the archaeological evidence and its stimulating interpretation. Instead, I shall seize upon on the interpretation of the monument as a hērōon, which I believe is convincing. The historical argument, advocated by the authors, regards the important information given by Thucydides (6.4.1) who tells us that the head of the Megarean expedition, Lamis, died at Thapsos before the foundation of the city. Despite this, he was officially considered the hērōs ktistēs, who would have been assigned an oikopedon in the agora, of the same dimensions as the others, which the polis, after having constructed the building which enclosed the area, would have dedicated to the cult of the founder.39

Fig. 3: Megara Hyblaea. Plan of the heroon in the Archaic Agora (from Vallet/Villard/Auberson 1976).

 39 Gras/Treziny 2018, 153–158 with earlier bibliography.

  Emanuele Greco

Selinunte and Iasos: The Deceased in the Agora More recent and earlier discoveries together provide us with new documentation and above all new interpretative dilemmas. We begin with Selinunte. A few years ago, thanks to the excellent and untiring work of Dieter Mertens, the agora of the Megarean apoikia was identified and in great part excavated (fig. 4). Here I will not discuss the relationship between Megara Nisea – Megara Hyblaea – Selinunte in terms of the transmission of experiences and of urban models, a difficult matter to confront and also, in my opinion, a dangerous one, because there is always the possibility of anachronism.40 Instead here we shall look at the extraordinary discovery of a group of tombs in the central area of the square. The agora of Selinunte is located in the heart of the city where is seen the juncture between the orientation of the acropolis and that of the northern quarter of the Manuzza. The discoveries now discussed were made roughly in the centre and the eastern side of the square. I refer in particular to the Archaic necropolis investigated by Antonia Rallo:41 it consisted for the most part of trenches, one containing fifteen cinerary urns and a second greatly damaged in later periods. Further and around 30–40 m to the west of this cemetery, Dieter Mertens brought to light two stone cist graves inside a pit dug into the rock. Near to the north tomb, a wall of blocks was brought to light, clearly belonging to a peribolus, which seemed to enclose the tomb. To the south, the second tomb lies on the outside of the same wall. Finally, 2 m to the west of the peribolus two pits were found. One was full of burnt remains, bones and table-wares and drinking vessels for the symposium, datable to 5th century BC. The second pit was greatly disturbed and only yielded fragments of burnt bones.42 Such are the data recovered by the excavation. The interpretation is clearly difficult: Mertens’s prudence is commendable in only hinting at the possibility of interpreting the peribolus with the tomb as a hērōon. Unfortunately the tomb, in which only five teeth of a young male of 19/20 years were found, had been robbed and perhaps re-used, while the south tomb was empty.43 The trench cemetery to the east Rallo was in favour of identifying as holding the deceased of the first generation colonists (late 7th century BC). At the same time, however, the scholar unintendedly offers another possible interpretation (in my opinion different),  40 I believe that the concept of transmission of the model is more appropriate to the Latin colonies than to Archaic Greek apoikiai, a period during which the model itself, substantially different, of an urban plan was being defined in metropolitan Greece: the research into analogies is however handled well in the debate at the 50th Convegno di Taranto, on which see Gras/Treziny 2012, 1133–1147 and Mertens 2012a, 1149–1170; and more recently Mertens 2012b. 41 Rallo 2007–2008. 42 Linda Adorno in: Mertens 2012b, 153–165, publishes with precision the material from the north tomb and that from the pit, maintaining their cult function in an interpretation of the peribolus and the tomb it contains as a hērōon. 43 Mertens 2007–2008; Mertens 2012b, 63.

Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence  

when she remarks on “the not insignificant presence of indigenous cultural material, which is ill-suited to a Hellenic cultural complex” in the necropolis.44 If we keep in mind the ever increasing number of cases where in the first generation the Greek apoikoi and the local populations are argued to have live together,45 I would say that this co-existence could be considered the norm. However, the most difficult problem in the case of Selinunte is that the peribolus and the tomb are on a different orientation from each other and not situated at the centre of the precinct. On the basis of the current evidence, any argument that the monument was a hērōon and not the tomb of an eminent personage linked with the cremation necropolis to the east, remains somewhat hypothetical, just as we cannot exclude a priori that the pit with material of the 5th century BC was a rubbish tip from the houses on the east side of the square. The cemetery with its Greeks and indigenous people (or only indigenous?) on the eastern side of the square could also provide the terminus post quem for the creation of the agora of Selinunte, given that it was clearly earlier than the latter.

Fig. 4: Selinous. Plan of the agora (from Mertens 2012b).  44 Rallo 2007–2008, 495. 45 On the problem of Greeks and Natives living together, see Greco/Lombardo 2012 and the synthesis in Lippolis 2017.

  Emanuele Greco Tombs in the agora have also been discovered at Iasos, in Caria, but in a completely different stratigraphical situation. Beneath an exedra in the square of Roman date, situated on the east side, and some 0.50 m under its paving, a large cist grave was found (Tomb I) dating to the late 4th century; at an even deeper lever a second burial was brought to light (Tomb II) dating to the end of the 6th – beginning of the 5th centuries BC.46 Both had been robbed and re-used: therefore, also in this case, the conclusions must be seen as provisional. It is necessary then to begin from the one fact which suggests that the tombs should be interpreted as the burial places of heroic personages, namely that at the time of the most ancient internment the agora was in an already urbanized area.47 We have though to acknowledge that there are two tombs, of different periods (as their stratigraphical relationship makes plain) and therefore the motivations behind them are likely to be diverse.

Fig. 5: Iasos. Plan of the Agora in Roman times (from Donati 1999).

 46 Donati 1999, 316–326. 47 Donati 1999, 331.

Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence  

The identification of the older burial with the tomb or the hērōon of Iasos remains highly hypothetical (fig. 5). Regarding the second burial, given its date in the period of the Hecatomnids, one could, as Luigi Donati proposes,48 think of a change in the settlement’s approved oikist (if it is the hērōon of the oikist). We know such happened at Sicyon at the time of the tyrant Cleisthenes and again at Amphipolis, when Brasidas the Spartan supplanted the Athenian, Hagnon.49

Poseidonia: The Hērōon of the Agora From the moment of its discovery, by Pellegrino C. Sestieri in July 1954, the monument we shall now discuss has occupied the particular attention of numerous scholars involved with the study of the building and its interpretation (fig. 6). The variety of approaches are reflected in the diversity of the very names assigned to the building: amongst them, underground sacellum and hērōon. For the sake of brevity, I will limit myself to a synthesis of the main hypotheses proposed: sacellum of a nymph, cenotaph of the oikist of Sybaris, tritopatreion, and hērōon of the oikist of Poseidonia.50 Each hypothesis is based on a single emphasized aspect: the fragment of a black-figure olpe with the dedication to the nymph, which Sestieri found in the fill which covered the building. This led her to interpret the monument as an underground sacellum dedicated to Hera (the bride par excellence), with the characteristics of a catachthonian cult which would have likened her to Persephone. Paola Zancani Montuoro was attracted by the dating of the monument, firmly established as 510 B.C. by the Attic black-figure amphora of the Chiusi painter and the extraordinary bronze vessels containing honey.51 Accordingly, she interpreted it as the cenotaph (definitely the latter because it did not contain the remains of an inhumation) to the destruction of Sybaris which took place, significantly, in 510 B.C. This interpretation is a clear example (something much in evidence still today) of the scholarly tradition by which the archaeological evidence is dependent on the ‘histoire événementielle’. To the present writer and to Dinu Theodorescu, while we were investigating the part of the city where the sacellum was situated, the possibility that a better appreciation could be obtained from the exploration of the urban context in which the monument was sited

 48 Donati 1999, 329–332. 49 For Sicione/Sicyon, see Hdt. 5.6.7; for Amphipolis, see Thuc. 5.11.1. 50 Sestieri 1955; Zancani Montuoro 1954; Greco/Theodorescu 1983. Rausch 2000 proposes the tritopatreion on the basis of the monument cited in the lex sacra selinuntina (on which see Jameson et al. 1993, 30f.) which interpretation is impossible to relate to the Paestum monument, which is completely closed and offers no possibility of the carrying out libations from the roof as Selinuntian law prescribes; on the ‘sacellum-hērōon’ see, most recently, Greco 2014b with earlier bibliography. 51 See Ficuciello, in Greco 2014b, 50–57.

  Emanuele Greco seemed to be of fundamental importance. (Until that moment the sacellum was the sole late Archaic building, sited in the middle of houses of the Roman imperial period.) However, the discovery of the ekklesiasterion circa 120 m to the east52 appeared to us as an extraordinary confirmation of the identification of the area in question, which we then defined through later excavations, with the agora of Poseidonia. For this reason, we can be fairly certain that our cenotaph is to be identified with a hērōon. Obviously, this is not enough to establish if the heroized deceased was the oikist of Sybaris or that of Poseidonia, or another person altogether. The solution that we have proposed (which however remains hypothetical) is that the monument is that of the oikist of Poseidonia. Why? Among all the hypotheses advanced in the past, only that of Zancani Montuoro seemed to us worthy of taking into consideration, given that it corresponded to the context, the agora, which we were investigating. The sole difference with our interpretation lies in the fact that Zancani saw the oikist as of Sybaris, given that it was the mother-polis of Poseidonia, whither the refugees had after the destruction of Sybaris, bringing with them the memory of their founder hero: a sort of Aeneas with the Penates (household gods) of Troy. Apart from the fact that no source states that the Sybarites took refuge at Poseidonia (on the contrary Herodotus [6.21] explicitly says that, after the disaster, they lived at Laos and Skidros, on the Tyrrhenian coast), it should also be noted that the hypothesis of the move to Poseidonia depends on viewing the apoikiai as installations heavily dependent on the mother country. However, this argument does not seem plausible: if we consider the numismatic evidence, this unequivocally demonstrates that Poseidonia was autonomous from its metropolis.53

Fig. 6: Poseidonia. The ‘heroon’ in the Late Archaic Agora (from author).

 52 Greco/Theodorescu 1983, 34–49. 53 On the coinage of Poseidonia see, most recently, Cantilena/Carbone 2015, 13–28.

Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence  

Therefore, and if we indeed are dealing with the heroization of an oikist, we prefer to think that he is that of Poseidonia itself. The studies we have effected have established that the underground sacellum, which had the form of a tomb with a gabled sloping roof, was covered by a tumulus, further evidence of its heroic definition. The tumulus was then dismantled at the time of the foundation of the Latin colony in 273 BC, when the rectangular peribolus was erected which still encloses it today, and which remained unaltered until its recent discovery.54 Finally, we must touch on the identity of the oikist of Poseidonia, whose name is not found in any of the written sources. There is one sole possibility of recovering the name of the founder – that indicated by Margherita Guarducci who, by correctly reading the name Μεγυλ on a double relief stater of the 5th century BC, proposes that the name should be interpreted as (Μεγυλλος or Μεγυλλις), like that of the oikist of Poseidonia.55 Renata Cantalena has recently criticized this reading, which I had also followed, proposing instead that the name on the coin should be read as that of a financial magistrate.56 This hypothesis now opens up a discussion on the interpretation of the names on coins in such an early period, keeping in mind the lack of parallels: does this instance involve both the name of the oikist and that of the magistrate, in the first half of the 5th century BC? I want to now add one last element to the Poseidonian dossier: in the excavation of Sestieri, nine fragments of Ionic cups of Bloesch C-type were recovered with the letter μ in graffito; furthermore in the excavations carried out immediately to the east of the sacellum, Marina Cipriani found other fragments of black-glazed ware inscribed with the letters με.57 These documents could be related to the ritual practices which took place around the hērōon. Naturally we are not able to prove that με is the initial syllable of Μεγυλ, but we hope that the research recently taken up again in the area of the agora of Poseidonia will produce new elements to resolve a historical dilemma of no little interest.

Conclusions The archaeological dossier presented here, which does not pretend to be exhaustive, is in reality modest, compared to the the number of literary attestations regarding the

 54 Greco/Theodorescu 1983, 25–33; on the agora of Poseidonia see, most recently, Longo 2016, 387– 389. 55 Guarducci 1965; note that Kluge 1909, 57, completely ignored by later bibliography, had already read and correctly interpreted the legend on the coin. 56 Greco 2014b, 39–43; Cantilena, in Cantilena/Carbone 2015, 35f. 57 See Ficuciello, in Greco 2014b, 47; I wish to thank Dr. Marina Cipriani for the information regarding the fragments inscribed with the letters με and for kindly giving me permission to use the photograph of the pieces found in the excavation she directed.

  Emanuele Greco cult that the Greek poleis everywhere gave to the founders of their cities. Apart from the Athenian case, a typical example of a myth-led recovery of the allegedly relevant bones, the only monument which unequivocally links the written sources and archaeology is the tomb of Battus I, founder of the city and of the royal dynasty ruling at Cyrene. All the other examples, in all their great variety, here drawn together and commented on are hypotheses. The foot of the Attic kylix with the dedication to Antiphemus – the sole piece of evidence of the cult at Gela – regrettably cannot be associated with a relevant monument. It is correct to say that it is often the presence of burials or cenotaphs in the agora which, as at Cyrene and in tune with the numerous literary attestations, leads us to pronounce in favour of the recognition of the heroic monument of the founder of the city. On the other hand, as again both the literature and the archaeology demonstrate, we definitely know that other heroes were also placed in the agora. To give just one example, there is the case of Glaukos at Thasos: his mnēma would never have been interpreted correctly (on the contrary, it is probable that it would have been identified with the hērōon of the oikist), if not for the inscription with the dedication to a well-known historical person.58 And finally, a last note of caution involves the dating, a key point here in observing behavioural diversity and dawing deductions from the same. The test case of Battus takes us back to the period of the foundation: it almost represents the prototype of the relationship between the tomb of the oikist and the agora. But, in other cases, from Gela to Poseidonia, the heroic cult is definitely much later than the foundation date of the polis. In these cases, for an historically faithful approach we must turn to the anthropology of memory.59 Such an argument, however, is outside the limits of this contribution: it needs to be examined case by case, but with, we hope, more consistent documentation available.

Bibliography Antonaccio, C.M. (1995), An Archaeology of Ancestors. Tomb Cult and Hero Cult in Early Greece, Lanham. Antonaccio, C.M. (1999), “Colonization and the Origins of the Hero Cult”, in: R. Hägg (ed.), Ancient Greek Hero Cult, Proceedings of the Fifth International Seminar on Ancient Greek Cult, Göteborg University, 21–23 April 1995, Stockholm, 109–121. Assmann, J. (1992), Das kulturelle Gedächtnis. Schrift, Erinnerung und politische Identität in frühen Hochkulturen, München (ital. trans. La memoria culturale, Torino 1997).

 58 For Glaukos, see Pouilloux 1955; Martin 1951, 200f. n. 5 lists the heroes commemorated in the agorai, whose burials are attested by the sources. 59 On this theme, Assmann 1992 is fundamental; for the West, Giangiulio 2010; for a recent attempt to test the approach to foundation myths over a wide chronological spectrum, see the collection of essays in MacSweeney 2015.

Mythical and Historical Heroic Founders: The Archaeological Evidence  

Bacci, G.M./Tigano, G./Ravesi, M./Zavettieri, G. (2012), “L’area sacra dell’isolato Z a Messina e la ktisis di Zancle”, in: M. Lombardo (ed.), Alle origini della Magna Grecia, Mobilita migrazioni fondazioni, Atti del L Convegno di Studi sulla Magna Grecia, Taranto 1–4 Ottobre 2010, Taranto, 927–945. Baldassarre, I. (1999), “Cirene”, in: E. Greco (ed.), La città greca antica. Istituzioni, società e forme urbane, Roma, 385–394. Bérard, C. (1982), “Récupérer la mort du prince: héroïsation et formation de la cité”, in: Gnoli/ Vernant 1982, 89–105. Bérard, C. (1983), “L’héroïsation et la formation de la cité”, in: P. Gros (ed.), Architecture et société, Actes du Colloque, Rome décembre 1980, Rome, 43–59. Boehringer, D. (1996), “Zur Heroisierung historischer Persönlichkeiten bei den Griechen”, in: M. Flashar/H.J. Gehrke/E. Heinrich (eds.), Retrospektive Konzepte von Vergangenheit in der griechisch-römischen Antike, München, 37–61. Brelich, A. (1958), Gli eroi greci. Un problema storico-religioso, Roma. Burkert, W. (1985), Greek Religion, Harvard. Cantilena, R./Carbone, F. (2015), Poseidonia-Paestum e la sua moneta, Tekmeria 17, Paestum. Coldstream, J.N. (1976), “Hero Cults in the age of Homer”, in: JHS 96, 8–17. Contursi, P. (2013), “Antenati negati. Spunti critici per una revisione del Tomb Cult”, in: ASAA 91/3, s. III, 13, 289–307. Cordano, F. (2017), “Gli hegesamenoi di Eraclea Pontica”, in: Rationes Rerum 2017/1, 85–91. De Sanctis, G. (1966), “Gli ecisti di Messina e Callimaco”, in: G. De Sanctis, Scritti minori I, Roma, 43–48 (reprint of: “Callimaco e Messina”, in: Atti dell’Accademia delle Scienze di Torino 63, 1928, 112–17). Di Cesare, R. (2015), La città di Cecrope. Ricerche sulla politica edilizia cimoniana ad Atene, SATAA 11, Athens/Paestum. Donati, L. (1999), “Sull’heroon di Iasos”, in: PP 54, 316–332. Dontas, G.S. (1983), “The true Aglaurion”, in: Hesperia 52, 48–63. Farnell, L.R (1921), Greek Hero Cults and Ideas of Immortality, Oxford. Foucart, P. (1918), Le culte des Héros chez les Grecs, Paris. Giangiulio, M. (2007), “Constructing the Past: Colonial Traditions and the Writing of History. The Case of Cyrene”, in: N. Luraghi, (ed.), The Historian’s Craft in the Age of Herodotus, Oxford, 117–137. Giangiulio, M. (2010), Memorie Coloniali, Hesperìa 27, Roma. Gnoli, G./Vernant, J.-P. (eds.) (1982), La mort, les morts dans les sociétés anciennes, Cambridge. Gras, M./Treziny, H. (2012), “Megara Hyblaea: le domande e le risposte”, in: M. Lombardo (ed.), Alle origini della Magna Grecia, Mobilita migrazioni fondazioni, Atti del L Convegno di Studi sulla Magna Grecia, Taranto 1–4 Ottobre 2010, Taranto, 1131–1147. Gras, M./Treziny, H. (2018), “Groupements civiques et organisation urbaine à Mégara Hyblaea”, in: Aristonothos 13/2, 145–170. Greco, E. (ed.) (2011), Topografia di Atene I,2. Colline sud-occidentali – Valle dell’Ilisso, Athens/Paestum. Greco, E. (ed.) (2014a), Topografia di Atene I,3,2. Quartieri a nord e a nord-est dell’Acropoli e Agora del Ceramico, Athens/Paestum. Greco, E. (2014b), La “tomba” del fondatore e le origini di Poseidonia, Paestum. Greco, E./Lombardo, M. (2012), “La colonizzazione greca: modelli interpretativi nel dibattito attuale”, in: M. Lombardo (ed.), Alle origini della Magna Grecia, Mobilita migrazioni fondazioni, Atti del L Convegno di Studi sulla Magna Grecia, Taranto 1–4 Ottobre 2010, Taranto, 37–60. Greco, E./Theodorescu, D. (1983), Poseidonia – Paestum II. L’agora, Rome. Guarducci, M. (1949–1951), “Note di epigrafia siceliota arcaica”, in: ASAA 27–29, 107–109.

  Emanuele Greco Guarducci, M. (1959–1960), “Nuove note di epigrafia siceliota arcaica”, in: ASAA 37–38, 264–266. Guarducci, M. (1965), “Alcune monete di Poseidonia e la fondazione dell’antica città”, in: Gli archeologi italiani in onore di Amedeo Maiuri, Cava de’ Tirreni, 203–216. Hadzisteliou Price, T. (1973), “Hero-Cult and Homer”, in: Historia 22, 129–142. von den Hoff, R. (2010), “Media for Theseus, or: the Different Images of the Athenian Polis-hero”, in: L. Foxhall/H.-J. Gehrke/N. Luraghi (eds.), History – Spinning Time in Ancient Greece, Stuttgart, 161–188. Huxley, G.L. (1970), Early Sparta, Shannon. Jameson, M.H./Jordan, D.R./Kotansky, R.D. (1993), A lex sacra from Selinous, Durham. Kluge, Th. (1909), “Studien zur Topographie von Paestum”, in: CPhil. 1909, 57–75. Lippolis, E. (2017), “Integrazione e ibridazione tra Greci e Italici in Magna Grecia”, in: A. Alessio/ M. Lombardo/A. Siciliano (eds.), Ibridazione e Integrazione in Magna Grecia, Atti del LIV Convegno di Studi sulla Magna Grecia, Taranto, 25–28 Settembre 2014, Taranto, 37–51. Longo, F. (2016), “Alcune riflessioni sullo spazio pubblico nelle poleis della Magna Grecia”, in: A. Alessio/M. Lombardo/A. Siciliano (eds.), Poleis e Politeiai nella Magna Grecia Arcaica e Classica, Atti del LIII Convegno di Studi sulla Magna Grecia, Taranto, 26–29 Settembre 2013, Taranto, 371–396. Loraux, N. (1984), Les enfants d’Athéna, Paris. Luce, J.-M. (1998), “Thesée, le synoecisme et l’agora d’Athènes”, in: Rev. Arch. 1998, 3–31. MacSweeney, N. (ed.) (2015), Foundation Myths in Ancient Societies, Philadelphia. Malkin, I. (2002), “Exploring the Validity of the Concept of ‘Foundation’: a Visit to Megara Hyblaia”, in: V. Gorman/E.W. Robinson (eds.), Oikistes. Studies in Constitutions, Colonies, and Military Power in the Ancient World. Offered in Honor of A.J. Graham, Leiden/Boston/ Köln, 195–225. Marchetti, P. (2017), “Les prytanées d’Athènes”, in: Archimède 4, 94–109. Martin, R. (1951), Recherches sur l’agora grecque, Paris. Massimilla, G. (ed.) (1996), Callimaco. Aitia I–II, Pisa. Mazarakis Ainian, A. (1999), “Reflections of Hero Cult in Early Iron Age Greece”, in: R. Hägg (ed.), Ancient Greek Hero Cult, Proceedings of the Fifth International Seminar on Ancient Greek Cult, Göteborg University, 21–23 Avril 1995, Stockholm, 9–36. Mazarakis Ainian, A. (2017), “« ΚΩΜΗ » et « ΠΟΛΙΣ » : Réflexion sur la formation de la Cité dans la Grèce ancienne”, in: CR Acad. Inscr. 2017/1, 21–50. Mele, A. (2007), “La colonizzazione greca arcaica: modi e forme”, in: A. Coppola (ed.), Eroi, Eroismi, Eroizzazioni, Atti del convegno internazionale, Padova 18–19 settembre 2006, Padua, 155–162. Mertens, D. (2007–2008), “L’‘heroon’ sull’agora di Selinunte. Nota preliminare”, in: G. Bartoloni/M.G. Benedettini (eds.), Sepolti fra i vivi, Atti del convegno internazionale (Roma, 26–29 aprile 2006), Roma, 473–487. Mertens, D. (2012a), “Selinunte : l’eredità di Megara Hyblaea e tante domande aperte”, in: M. Lombardo (ed.), Alle origini della Magna Grecia, Mobilita migrazioni fondazioni, Atti del L Convegno di Studi sulla Magna Grecia, Taranto 1-4 Ottobre 2010, Taranto, 1140–1170. Mertens, D. (2012b), “Die Agora von Selinunt. Der Platz und die Hallen”, in: MDAIR 118, 51–178. Moggi, M. (2003), “Le storie di fondazione coloniale fra diacronia e sincronia”, in: Incidenza dell’Antico. Dialoghi di storia greca I, 41–48. Orlandini, P. (1968), “Gela. Topografia dei santuari e documentazione archeologica dei culti”, in: Rivista dell’Istituto nazionale d’archeologia e storia dell’arte 15, 20–66. Orsi, P. (1900), “L’heroon di Antifemo (?)”, in: Not. Scav. 1900, 272–277. Orsi, P. (1906), Gela. Scavi del 1900–1905, Mon. Ant. 17, Milan. Pfister, F. (1910–1912), Der Reliquienkult im Altertum, Gießen. Pouilloux, J. (1955), “Glaucos, fils de Leptine, Parien”, in: BCH 79, 75–87.

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Rallo, A. (2007–2008), “Considerazioni su un gruppo di tombe protoarcaiche in Selinunte”, in: G. Bartoloni/G. Benedettini (eds.), Sepolti tra i vivi. Evidenza ed interpretazione di contesti funerar in abitato, Atti del Convegno Internazionale, Museo dell’arte classica, Odeon, Rome, aprile 26–29, Scienze Antichità 14/1, Rome, 489–496. Rausch, M. (2000), “Das Hypogäum auf der Agora von Poseidonia. Ein Kultort der Tritopatres?”, in: Kernos 13, 107–116. Santucci, A. (2016), “Cirene, la Skyrotà e la prima apoikia”, in: L. Fausto/R. Di Cesare/S. Privitera (eds.), Δρόμοι, Scritti sul mondo antico offerti a Emanuele Greco dagli allievi della Scuola Archeologica Italiana di Atene, Athens/Paestum, 177–187. Sestieri, P.C. (1955), “Il sacello poseidoniate”, in: Boll. d’Arte 1955, 53–64. Snodgrass, A.M. (1982), “Les origines du culte des héros dans la Grèce antique”, in: Gnoli/Vernant 1982, 107–119. Snodgrass, A.M. (1988), “The Archaeology of the Hero”, in: AION. Annali del Seminario di studi del mondo classico 10, 19–26. Stucchi, S. (1965), L’agora di Cirene I, Roma. Turner, S. (2015), “Who’s the Daddy? Contesting and Constructing Theseus’ Paternity in Fifth-Century Athens”, in: N. MacSweeney (ed.), Foundation Myths in Ancient Societies. Dialogues and Discourses, Philadelphia, 71–102. Vallet, G. (1958), Rhégion et Zancle, Paris. Vallet, G./Villard, F./Auberson, P. (1976), Mégara Hyblaea 1, Le quartier de l’agora archaïque, Rome. Whitley, J. (2002), “Too many ancestors”, in: Antiquity 76 (291), 119–126. Zancani Montuoro, P. (1954), “Il Poseidonion di Poseidonia”, in: Archivio storico della Calabria e della Lucania 23, 165–185.

Manolis Korres

Das Volutenkapitell aus Sykaminos Abstract: Given that a lot about the Ionic capital EAM 4797 is already widely known, this two-part paper, is necessarily selective. Part one: (1) Perception of a spiral’s direction of growing (differing in mathematics, nature and art – including Ionic capitals). (2) Issues of a terminology corresponding to true properties, origin and perception. (3)–(5) Questions of an analytical typology and issues of carving and styling. In brief, terminology has to be rather explanatory, capable of associating more reasonably styling and carving. After all, the stages of carving, which inevitably follow a given order or sequence, largely coincide with certain established types of styling the volutes, the bolster and the echinus. The simpler types of styling demand only a sort sequence of carving stages, while others being more complicated – undergo many more stages of carving and other treatment. But while the more advanced fashioning stages may be omitted, the carving-stages preceding the final one for any chosen styling, modest or more complex, are in their complete sequence always the same and always compulsory. Part two: (1) Geometric documentation, with a mechanical pantograph for the 3-dimensional objects, compass, mason’s squares, and profile gauge. (2) Accidental or deliberate deviations from the normal form (mainly an upwards converging of façade-planes). (3) Analysis-based interpretation of the capital’s design as a process encompassing concept, selection of type, selection of styling details, quantity of repetitive components, selection of overall dimensions and further dimensioning by division. The number 22 decided for the leaves of the abacus (like in few other capitals) is the only choice linked with a commensurable diameter value (7, with a deviation of only 0,0012 – the mathematical calculation was achieved much later by Archimedes). (4) Geometric analysis of the spirals. (5) Stylistic elements of the capital as interrelated with particular steps of the usual carving process. Comments on irregular echinoi (odd-number or lateral shifting of leaves). (6) Evidence for the Sphinx’s type. (7) Technical issues of assembly and disassembly.

Vasileios Petrakos ist seit langem für seine herausragenden archäologischen und epigraphischen Forschungen und seine Studien zur Geschichte der Archäologie und ihren Institutionen bekannt. Zur effektiveren Tätigkeit des Antikendienstes, in dem er  Ich möchte auch an dieser Stelle den Kollegen M. Tiverios und A. Rengakos für ihre Anregung, an dieser Festschrift teilzunehmen, der Direktorin des Nationalmuseums Dr. Μ. Lagogianni für die reibungslose Fortsetzung meiner Dokumentationsarbeit, Dr. D. Ignatiadou, Leiterin der Skulpturenabteilung des Museums für nützliche Informationen und Klaus-Valtin von Eickstedt für sprachliche Korrekturen des Textes herzlich danken. Alle Abbildungen sind vom Verf. ausgeführt. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110699326-013

  Manolis Korres sowohl als Mitarbeiter als auch als leitender Angestellter tätig war, hat er einen besonderen Beitrag geleistet. Es ist offensichtlich, dass das seltene Zusammenspiel von Quantität und Qualität in Vasileios Petrakos Handeln auf seinen physischen Fähigkeiten, der strikten Einhaltung von Prinzipien und Disziplin sowie seinem ständigen Engagement für das beabsichtigte Ziel auf der soliden Grundlange einer umfassenden klassischen Ausbildung beruht. Während die großen Publikationen des Geehrten bekannt und stets aktuell sind, ist seine Beschäftigung mit vielen anderen kleineren und älteren Projekten, die bis in die späten 1950er Jahre zurückreichen, nur wenigen Fachleuten bekannt. Ein gutes Beispiel hierfür ist der Bericht im Archäologikon Deltion über das ‛Hellenikon’, ein Denkmal an der Stelle des gleichnamigen Flughafens, das versetzt werden musste, um die notwendige Erweiterung der Start- und Landebahnen zu ermöglichen1. Aufgrund seines Umfangs und seiner wissenschaftlichen Vollständigkeit übertrifft dieser Bericht bei weitem den Rahmen, der in den Chronika des Arch. Delt. üblich war. Zur gleichen Zeit richtete Petrakos sein Augenmerk auf drei bis dahin unbekannte oder kaum bekannte ionische Kapitelle, denen sich der Verfasser erst sehr viel später wissenschaftlich zuwandte. Das bekannteste ist das der Marmorsäule des Tropaion in Marathon, das auf Petrakos Betreiben aus der Nähe der Panagia Mesosporitissa-Kirche in das Museum in Marathon überführt wurde, wo es mit zwei zugehörigen Säulentrommeln so ausgestellt wurde, dass eine gute Erhaltung und Zugänglichkeit gewährleistet blieb.2 Weniger bekannt ist das Kapitell im Museum von Eretria (Inv. Nr. 628).3 Das dritte (Abb. 1), das einen völlig anderen Stil aufweist und vielleicht aus diesem Grund häufiger in der Fachliteratur erwähnt wird,4 befindet sich im Archäologischen Nationalmuseum (EAM 4797). Ursprünglich war es, unbekannt seit wann, in der Agia Eleousa-Kirche in Sykaminos von Oropos verbaut. Dort wurde Petrakos auf dieses Kapitell aufmerksam und sorgte aufgrund der großen archäologischen Bedeutung, aber auch, um das Risiko von Beschädigung oder Verlust auszuschließen, für den Transport nach Athen.5 Mit Zustimmung von Nikolaos Gialouris übernahm der Autor 1976 im Rahmen einer umfassenderen zweijährigen Studie über ionische Kapitelle der archaischen und klassischen Zeit die zeichnerische Dokumentation der Kapitelle im Nationalmuseum,

 1 Petrakos 1961/1962, 30–35, Zeichn. 1–5, 7 (von Steph. Zacharakis) Taf. 33. 2 Petrakos 1995, 27–30. 3 Petrakos/Kallipolitis 1963, 127, Zeichn. 6, 7 (von Charal. Bouras) Taf. 162β. 4 Betancourt 1977, 106, 141, Taf. 67; Kirchhoff 1988, 215 Nr. A3; Ohnesorg 1993, 116 Taf. XXI,8; McGowan 1993, Nr. 6; Shoe-Meritt 1996, 122–124, Taf. 34,35; McGowan 1997, 222, Anm. 67; Wilson-Jones 2014, 100, 102, Abb. 4.22; Holzman 2019, eine Studie über ionische Kapitelle mit durch konvexe und konkave Volutenstreifen differenzierten Fronten, in der auch das Kapitell EAM 4797 in mehrfacher Hinsicht behandelt wird. 5 Kallipolitis 1969, 5 «…σημαντικόν αρχαϊκόν αιολικόν κιονόκρανον εκ της βάσεως αναθήματος, ίσως μαρμαρίνης σφιγγός, μεταφερθέν εξ Ωρωπού …».

Das Volutenkapitell aus Sykaminos  

einschließlich desjenigen aus Sykaminos. Zu dieser Zeit bestand ein großes Interesse an den ionischen Kapitellen, und es ist kein Zufall, dass in den siebziger Jahren bereits mehrere sehr wichtige Studien durchgeführt und veröffentlicht wurden.6 Neue Aufgaben erlaubten dem Autor jedoch nicht, seine Studie abzuschließen und nur ein kleiner Teil von dieser konnte erst sehr viel später veröffentlicht werden.7 In der Zwischenzeit (1996) wurde das Kapitell aus Sykaminos von Lucy Shoe-Meritt im Rahmen ihrer eigenen, viel umfassenderen – und viel älteren – Studie über ionische Kapitelle angemessen veröffentlicht.8 Die Bemerkungen der erfahrenen Wissenschaftlerin zum Kapitell aus Sykaminos sind so zutreffend, dass kein Grund besteht, auf dieses Thema zurückzukommen. Deswegen werden im Folgenden weitere Themen erörtert und behandelt, mit denen sie sich nicht auseinandergesetzt hat. Dies sind: 1) die genaue geometrische Dokumentation des Kapitells, 2) zufällige oder absichtliche Abweichungen von der Normalform, 3) der Entwurf, 4) die geometrische Konstruktion der Spiralen, 5) Stilelemente der plastischen Gestaltung, 6) die Art des Bildwerks, das einst auf dem Kapitell aufgestellt gewesen war sowie die Abmessungen seiner Plinthe, und 7) technische Fragen zur Montage und Demontage. Bevor wir jedoch darauf eingehen, wollen wir zunächst einige der allgemeineren Fragen der ionischen Kapitelle kurz zusammenfassen: 1) Richtung der Spirale, 2) Terminologie unter Berücksichtigung des Werdens und des Verstehens, 3) Typologie, 4) Verarbeitungsstufen, 5) Herkunft und Entwicklung.

 Teil 1 . Mathematisch gesehen ist die flache Spirale eine richtungslose Kurve mit stetiger Änderung der Krümmung, deren eines Ende gegen das Unendliche und das andere gegen einen Punkt (Abb. 2a), das Zentrum der Spirale, tendiert. Im allgemeineren Fall ist die Spirale auf einer konischen Oberfläche zu verstehen (Abb. 2b), deren Kegelspitze das Zentrum der Spirale darstellt. Flache und zylindrische Spiralen sind nur  6 Martin 1956, 1972, 1973; Bakalakis 1958, 1964, 1975; Boardman 1959; Gruben 1960, 1963; Wesenberg 1971; Alzinger 1972–73; Theodorescu 1964, 1968, 1973/1980, 1974; Kirchhof 1988; Betancourt 1977. In den folgenden Jahren setzte sich das Interesse an den ionischen Kapitellen mit nur kleinen Unterbrechungen und mit immer wesentlichen Beiträgen fort: Koenigs 1979; Mertens 1979; Margineanu-Castoiu 1990a; 1990b; 1997; Bingöl 1993; Ohnesorg 1993, 1996, 1999, 2004; Gruben 1997, 1999; McGowan 1993, 1995, 1997; Weber 2002; Keesling 2005. Mit den älteren von diesen Studien sind auch diejenigen von L. Shoe-Meritt (1969, 1993, 1996) einzuordnen obwohl sie erst später veröffentlicht werden konnten. 7 Korres 1994, 1996, 1997, 1999, 2017. 8 Shoe-Meritt 1996, 122–124, Taf. 34,35.

  Manolis Korres Sonderfälle der konischen (Abb. 2a 2c). In der Natur haben Spiralen im Gegensatz zur Mathematik normalerweise nur eine eindeutige Richtung: In Schneckengehäusen, z.B., vom Zentrum zum freien Ende (Abb. 3a), während bei den Ranken von Weinreben und anderen Kletterpflanzen das freie Ende zum imaginären Zentrum der Spiralform tendiert (Abb. 3b). In den ionischen Kapitellen gilt nur das zweite; die Richtung der Spiralen fällt also mit der Richtung der Windung zusammen (Abb. 3c). Daher muss die geometrische Konstruktion der Spirale (in Kapitellen, Konsolen, Akroterien usw.) sowie jede Beschreibung einer Kapitellvolute von der Mitte des Kapitells ausgehen und im Zentrum der Spirale bzw. dem Auge der Volute enden.

. Im Fall des ionischen Kapitells tragen die Namen, wie fast überall in der Sprache, dem Verständnis nicht angemessen bei, da sie nicht immer dem genauen Aussehen, der tatsächlichen Herkunft oder dem Entstehungsprozess entsprechen und häufig auch bei unvollkommenen oder nicht vorhandenen Ähnlichkeiten verwendet werden. Ein gutes Beispiel ist der Name Canalis, der in ionischen Kapitellen die Stelle über dem Echinus zwischen den Voluten angibt, da diese in der klassischen Version als flache Rille ausgebildet ist. Aber bei anderen früheren Kapitellen ist dieser Teil oft gekrümmt, flach oder gar nicht vorhanden, und wird, da er keinen genaueren Namen hat, ebenfalls Canalis genannt. Ähnliche Probleme verbinden sich mit den Namen der linearen geraden oder spiralförmigen Elemente der ionischen Kapitelle. Der griechische Name Σχοινίον (Seil, Corde, Rope, Corda) ist passend, wenn dieses Element einen markanten halbkreisförmigen Querschnitt aufweist, nicht jedoch, wenn es einen nicht gekrümmten oder sogar konkaven Querschnitt hat, wie bei den Kapitellen des Erechtheion. In gleicher Weise lassen sich Schwierigkeiten mit anderen Namen verschiedener Teile beobachten, während nur wenige, ausreichend beschreibende, wie Auge, Ohr, Blatt, Speer, Kelch, Blütenblätter (als Elemente des Echinus und des sonstigen Schmucks) zutreffend sind. Im Allgemeinen kann die Wahl oder die Bildung der Namen mit der Konzeption einer Form, dem Herstellungsprozess oder der Art und Weise zusammenhängen, wie die zu nennenden Gegenstände als Ergebnis dieses Prozesses wahrgenommen und verstanden werden. Als man einmal mit dem Zeichnen einer Spirallinie begonnen hatte, die als eigenständiges Schmuckstück verstanden wurde (Abb. 4. 1), gab diese Linie der zuvor einheitlichen Zeichenfläche auch das Bild eines spiralförmigen Streifens (Abb. 4. 2), der, wenn er auch ein passiver Effekt der Spirallinie war, sich oft als d i e Hauptform durchsetzte (das bekannte Phänomen der Figur-Grund-Wahrnehmung, d.h. der alternierenden Erscheinung des Positiven und Negativen einer Form als Hauptform). Diesen Effekt zeigen auch die Spirallinien des ionischen Kapitells. Dabei ist besonders zu beobachten, dass eine wesentliche Partie des Volutenstreifens (Abb. 4. 3, Strecke

Das Volutenkapitell aus Sykaminos  

a), die dem Beginn (1) der Spirallinie vorangeht und weniger gekrümmt oder eher geradlinig ist, nur einseitig von ihr umsäumt wird. Zur Vervollständigung eben dieser Partie wird dem Streifen ein unterer Saum gleicher Stärke wie der der Hauptlinie hinzugesetzt (Abb. 4. 4, Strecke b). Dieser Saum erstreckt sich bis zum Punkt des nächstmöglichen Zusammentreffens mit der Spirallinie, kurz bevor ihre erste Umwindung vollständig ist, um einen tangentialen Kontakt beider Linien zu erreichen, oder in anderen Fällen erstreckt sich die addierte Linie, statt jeglichen Kontaktes, über die gesamte Länge des Streifens bis zum Auge bzw. Zentrum (Abb 4. 5). Dadurch wirkt die Spirale aber nach ihrer ersten Windung wie eine doppelte (und wird manchmal in der Literatur fälschlich so beschrieben). Tatsächlich handelt es sich jedoch um einen beidseitig gesäumten Volutenstreifen. Ein weiterer Schritt, unabhängig vom vorherigen, ist die Umwandlung der Spirale bzw. eines jeden Stegs bzw. Saums in ein etwas stärkeres lineares bemaltes, eingekerbtes oder reliefiertes Element mit facettiertem oder gerundetem Querschnitt (Abb. 5. S1, S2, S3 u. S5 ) und in ähnlicher Weise die Umarbeitung des flachen Volutenstreifens (Abb. 5. B1–B2) in eine konvexe (Abb. 5. B5) oder konkave Fläche. Im zweiten Fall kann die konkave Form die gesamte Breite des Streifens (Abb. 5. B3) oder nur einen Teil davon einnehmen, so dass auf beiden Seiten ein schmaler Rand verbleibt, der wiederum flach bleiben kann (Abb. 5. B6), wie beispielsweise die Streifen der Kanneluren einiger ionischer Säulen, oder abgerieben werden um einen konvexen Querschnitt zu erreichen (Abb. 5. B7). Aufgrund der obigen Klassifizierung lässt sich jede Volute als eine Kombination gewisser Spiralen bzw. Stege klassifizieren (Abb. 6, VS1B1, VS2B2, VS2B5, VS3B3, VS4B3, VS4B3΄, VS4B4, VS4B5, VSS4B5, VSS5B4, VS5B5, VSS5B5, VSS5B6, VSS5B7) Die obigen Merkmale beschränken sich nicht auf Kapitellvoluten, sondern sind in der Dekoration der Kapitellpolster, in der des Echinus bzw. Blattkranzes, aber oft auch in der des Abakus, sofern vorhanden, oder des etwas seltenen Hypotrachelion wie folgt fast identisch: Dekoration nur eingeritzt oder plastisch geprägt, Gestaltung mit gebogenen oder konkaven Blättern, begrenzt durch Umfangselemente mit flachem oder rundem Querschnitt usw.

. Wie bereits erwähnt, ist jedes ionische Kapitell eine Synthese bestimmter struktureller (A) und plastisch-dekorativer (B) Elemente,9 die aus einer relativ breiten Menge gewählt werden. Für das Strukturelle (A) muss der Volutenkörper (a)10 und/oder ein

 9 Theodorescu 1973/1980, 1–6, Taf. 3; Gruben 1989, 172; 1996, 95 (tektonische Erklärung des Volutenkörpers – ein Derivat des Sattelholzes), siehe auch infra, III. 10 Martin 1973, Nr. 1, Abb. 1–2, Nr. 2, Abb. 3; Raubitschek 1938, 163f. Abb. 20, 21 (Akropolismuseum, Inv. Nr. 10261).

  Manolis Korres Echinus (b) gewisser Form11 ausgewählt werden, und zusätzlich der Abakus (c), das Hypotrachelion, oder Säulenhals (d)12, ein Aufsatzelement des Echinus (e)13 und auch eines des Abakus (f).14 Letztere (B) umfassen diejenigen, die bereits im vorherigen Abschnitt erwähnt wurden (Abb. 5 u. 6). Tatsächlich gibt es viel mehr Kombinationen von Formen und Dekorationen, aber ihre Details übersteigen die Grenzen des Vorliegenden.15 Zusätzlich zu den obigen Elementen a–f und VS1B1 -VSS5B7, besteht bei einigen Kapitellen, wie z.B. bei denen aus Neandria (VSS4LB5), oder des Erechtheion (VSS6LB7) zwischen den Volutenwindungen eine breite und tiefe Einkerbung, die sich bis zum Volutenauge erstreckt. Bei den Kapitellen des Erechtheion befand sich in dieser Einkerbung eine Metallspirale, die außerhalb des Auges ansetzte und in einer breiten, ebenfalls metallischen Palmette endete,16 einem typischen Füllelement des zwischen  11 Blattkranz, Amandry 1953, 24–26; Martin 1973, Nr. 4, Abb. 6–8; Eierkranz, Puchstein 1887, 46–49; Martin 1972, Nr. 4, einfach profilierter Rotationskörper ohne plastische Prägung, Shoe-Meritt 1996, Nr. 2, 4, 6–8, 10, 12, 14a, 14b, 16, 17; Korres 1997, Abb. 23, 24, 31, 33; oder gewisse Sonderformen, Gruben 1965, Taf. 2; White 1971, Abb. 1, 2; Mertens 2005, 348, Abb. 447 (mit dorischem Echinus). 12 Das gehört eher zum Säulenschaft, als eine besonders luxuriöse Verzierung seines oberen Endes. Puchstein 1887, 10–11, Nr. 7; Steven in: Paton 1927; Gruben 1966, 327; 2014, Taf. 1–26; Mertens 1979, Abb. 2, 3, Taf. 16.1; Pedersen 1983; Korres 1996, Abb. 33. 13 Das sog. Zwischenstück oder Einsatzstück, das hauptsächlich bei attischen Kapitellen der ersten Hälfte des 5. Jh. vorkommt. Oft spricht man eher von einem zweistöckigen Echinus oder (McGowan 1997, 210, 211) two-tired or two-part echinus. Zur Herkunft, Gruben 1997, 365–369 (kykladisch); McGowan 1997, 212 (echt athenisch, geringer kykladischer Einfluss); Barletta 2017, 187–193 mit der Vermutung (s. 191) eines kykladischen Einflusses. 14 Ein Bestandteil, der besonders selten ist. Vanderpool 1966, Abb. 2; Korres 2017, Taf. XV.1. 15 Eine detailliertere Unterscheidung bekannter Fälle vom Verf. in: Stierlin 2016, 246: a) la simple expression linéaire de la volute par la couleur (a1), par une incision (a2), par un creusement d'une certaine largeur et d'une certaine profondeur (a3), ou parun élément sculpté en relief (a4) appelée « orle », b) la formation de la volute comme bande à l’intérieur des révolutions des cas a1–a4. Cette bande peut être plate (b1), convexe en relief (b2), convexe en relief entre deux orles (b3), concave (b4, appelée « canal »), concave entre des bandeaux plats (b5), à la fois convexe et concave (b6, concave au milieu et convexe sur les bords), c) la formation de la volute comme combinaison des cas a et b (a1b4, a2b4, a3b5, a3b2, a3b3, a4b5, a2b6, etc.), d) le nombre de révolutions, e) le mode de changement de la courbure de la ligne ou de la largeur de la bande, f) le mode de croissance, g) l’existence d’un œil, h) la largeur et la profondeur de a3, i) le décor éventuel de l’extrémité libre de a3, ou de la région connexe dans tous les autres cas. Ces caractéristiques sont liées à celles de la forme de la surface contiguë (que l’on l’appelle « balustre » sur les chapiteaux et les consoles) qui, dans l’ensemble, peut être cylindrique (π1) ou concave (π2). Ces deux cas peuvent être associés sans articulation, avec une articulation en trois parties, avec une articulation en plusieurs parties juxtaposée contenant des formes correspondant à a1, a4, b1–b6 ou tout autre décor (π1δ). 16 Inwood 1831, 117, Taf. 4, 5; Stevens in: Paton et al. 1927, 20–23, 62, 80–86, Taf. 19, 22, 23, 30, 36; Puchstein 1887, 25 mit Vorbehalten. Im Museum von Komotini gibt es das hervorragendste Beispiel für eine dünne zusätzliche Spirale, die sich zwischen den Windungen einer Volute erstreckt und mit einer Palmette in den Volutenzwickeln endet (Bakalakis 1975). Die höchst elegante Spirale mit ihrer schönen Endung gibt uns eine Idee, wie etwa die Kapitellvoluten am Erechtheion mittels eingesetzter bronzener Spiralen bereichert wurden.

Das Volutenkapitell aus Sykaminos  

dem Canalis und einer Volute gebildeten Zwickels. Kleinere eingelegte Metallschmuckstücke gab es auch bei anderen attischen Kapitellen,17 während viel größere und komplexere, die eine viel ältere Tradition18 weitertrugen, die Kapitelle der Propyläen19 direkt über dem Echinus schmückten. Mit Ausnahme dieser zusätzlichen Metallelemente handelt es sich bei den verschiedenen Arten der Struktur und Dekoration ionischer Kapitelle, auf deren Grundlage sie klassifiziert und weitgehend datiert werden, nur oder fast ausschließlich um ästhetisch selbstständige Stationen aufeinanderfolgender Verarbeitungsstufen. Einige Kapitelle haben als endgültige Form das, was für andere, wie unten erläutert, nur eine Zwischenstufe in der Vorbereitung auf ein luxuriöseres Ergebnis darstellt.

. Wenn man heute mit automatisierten Maschinen komplexe dreidimensionale Formen herstellen möchte, kann man dies frei und von Anfang an bis zur endgültigen Tiefe durchführen. In der traditionellen Technologie war dies jedoch nur in der Skulptur möglich, da ein Modell und Werkzeuge (z.B. Punktiergerät) verwendet wurden, die für das dreidimensionale Punkt-zu-Punkt-Kopieren angelegt waren. Bei der Vorbereitung der meisten Bauglieder, in diesem Fall der Kapitelle, wurden in der Regel keine Modelle verwendet, und die Ausgestaltung folgte einer strengen Reihe aufeinanderfolgender Bearbeitungsstufen durch den Steinmetz in Übereinstimmung mit einer streng definierten Reihe geometrischer Operationen – unter Verwendung von Werkzeugen wie Richtscheit, Winkel und Zirkel.

 17 Α.Μ. 13301: Kapitell und Hypotrachelion aus einem Werkstück ausgeführt. Die unter einer erhaltenen Ecke des Abakus ausgemeißelte Einlassung weist auf eingelegte Zwickelverzierungen hin. Korres 1996, Abb.33. 18 Athen, Akropolis, MA3853: Puchstein 1887, 13 (nicht abgebildet); Borrmann 1888a, Taf. 18,1; 1888b, 276, Abb. 7, Nat. Mus. 877; Korres 1996, Abb. 112–113, Abb. 34; Agora, A3345: Shoe-Meritt 1996, Nr. 19 Agora, A2833: Shoe-Meritt 1996, Nr. 20; Delos A583: Amandry 1953, Taf. 15–16; Vallois Nr. 9 u. 10; Martin 1972, Abb. 6; 1973, Nr. 7–8: 387–389, Abb. 14–17; Theodorescu 1980, Nr. 26; Chios, Museum (Rückseite flach): Boardman 1959, Nr. 52, 188, Taf. XXVIII; Theodorescu 1980, Nr. 35–36; Kavala, Museum, Kapitelle mit rundem Zierelement (Phiale) in der Mitte der konkaven Front, aber nicht an der konvexen Rückseite. Bakalakis 1936, S. 8–11, Nr. 1 Abb. 10–13, S. 11 Nr. 2 Abb. 14, S. 11 f Nr. 3. Abb. 15–19, S. 12–14 Nr. 4–6 Abb. 20–23. Zum Zierelement 19–23; Theodorescu 1980, Nr. 42; Samothrake, Ptolemaiion: Puchstein 1887, Nr. 34; Sardes: Theodorescu 1980, Nr. 20. Darüber hinaus gibt es in Naxos und Paros frühe Kapitelle (Dionysostempel in Iria, Archilochoskapitell), bei denen die Mitte des Volutenkörpers flach ist und somit die Volutenstreifen erst außerhalb seiner beiden Außenkanten beginnen. Am Kapitell der Sphinx von Delphi ist die Mitte nicht erhalten, und wie J. Boardman einmal schrieb (1959, 199), ist es viel wahrscheinlicher, dass an dieser Stelle ein Ornament angebracht war. 19 Verf. in: Heilmeyer 2002, 380; Scahil 2009, 44, Anm. 34, Abb. 4.8 (3-D-Model des Kapitells von D. Johnson. Eingelegter Metallschmuck nach Verf.).

  Manolis Korres Bei diesen Vorgängen durchläuft der zu verarbeitende Stein sukzessive Transformationen, die sich jeweils einzeln durch ihre geometrische Perfektion und die daraus resultierende ästhetische Selbstständigkeit auszeichnen.20 Mit Beginn und Fortschritt jeder nachfolgenden Verarbeitungsstufe geht die bereits in der vorherigen Stufe erzeugte Oberfläche zusammen mit ihren bekannten ästhetischen Merkmalen irreversibel verloren, weicht jedoch einer unmittelbar folgenden Oberfläche, mit welcher der Künstler noch mehr Schönheit erzielen möchte, wofür er nicht nur kostspielige, zusätzliche Arbeit, sondern auch das riskante Opfern des zuvor gesicherten Ergebnisses zu Gunsten des unmittelbar folgenden usw. rechtfertigen kann. Am Beispiel des Kapitells aus Sykaminos, sind diese Stufen, von der ersten bis zur letzten folgende (Abb. 7–10): 1) Umarbeitung des im Steinbruch erzeugten Rohlings21 (Abb. 7) 2) Feine Zurichtung der Lehren auf der Lagerfläche und auf den Frontflächen für eine erste genaue Definition der Achsen und der Referenz-Ebenen (Abb. 8) 3) 3a, b. Einritzen von Kreisen bzw. Kreisteilen auf der Lagerfläche und den Voluten, um die Umrisse zu definieren. Wegschneiden der überschüssigen Masse entlang der Umrisse (Abb. 9, oben). Zu diesem Zeitpunkt erscheint das Kapitell bereits als ästhetisch autarke Komposition aus Teilen mit flachen Oberflächen (Lagerflächen, Fassaden), zylindrischen Oberflächen (Polstern, Echinus) und konischen Flächen (Echinus). Letztere wechseln sich in aufeinanderfolgenden Stadien (3c, d, e) ab, was zur Bildung des Echinusprofils führt. 4) In ähnlicher Weise werden, soweit vorhanden, der Abakus, das Hypotrachelion usw. gemeißelt, aber auch die Polster, so dass sie mit abnehmender Dicke zur Mitte hin gegen den Schaft der Säule zurücktreten (Abb. 9 unten u. Abb. 10). Am Ende dieser Phase hat das Kapitell bereits eine erste Vollkommenheit erreicht und es kann, sofern keine weitere Meißelarbeit beabsichtigt ist, seine Dekoration mit den geeigneten Farben erfolgen. 5) Weiteres Einritzen, bzw. Einkerben jeweiliger Linien, um die Formen der Spiralen, aber auch des mittleren Bereichs der Fronten (z. B. Palmetten) und der Polster stärker hervorzuheben (Abb. 9 unten u. Abb. 10). Das Ergebnis, das auch eine unvorhersehbare Autarkie aufweist, kann (falls keine weiteren Steinmetzarbeiten vorgesehen sind) auch durch Farben ergänzt werden. 6) Meißeln entlang der eingekerbten Linien, so dass die verschiedenen Elemente der Voluten und der übrige Schmuck plastisch geprägt werden, jedoch mit Ausnahme bestimmter Teile (z. B. der Kanten der Volutenstreifen oder der Polster 20 Korres/Ohnesorg, 2017, Abb. 6–11. 21 Von besonderem Interesse sind der Rohling eines Volutenkapitells (ca. 72 x 50 x 35 cm) unter dem Sockel des Kolosses in Delos (Gruben 1996, 64, Abb. 4) sowie derjenige eines viel größeren (ca. 240 x 140 x 100 cm) im Steinbruch Petrokopio auf der Insel Phournoi, zusammen mit den nahe gelegenen unvollendeten Stücken der Säule und ihrer rechteckigen Krepis. Offensichtlich war die schätzungsweise 12 m hohe Säule dazu bestimmt, eine sehr große Sphinx aufzunehmen.

Das Volutenkapitell aus Sykaminos  

Kanneluren), die flach, zylindrisch oder facettiert bleiben können (Abb. 9 unten u. Abb. 10). Vervollständigung oder Nichtausfüllung plastischer Elemente mit Farbe. 7) Abschleifen plastisch geprägter Elemente mit verbleibenden Kanten, so dass diese auch eine kontinuierliche Krümmung erhalten (Abb. 9 unten u. Abb. 10). 8) Gegebenenfalls Vorbereitung von Einlassungen oder Stützlöchern für dekorative Elemente aus Metall und anderen Materialien.

. Nach einer darwinistischen Auffassung der Dinge sollten die obigen aufeinanderfolgenden Phasen einer historischen Entwicklung der ionischen Kapitelle entsprechen. Dies ist sinnvoll, aber archäologische Beweise deuten auf eine viel komplexere Situation hin.22 Kapitelle die einer dritten oder vierten Verarbeitungsstufe entsprechen, erschienen in Athen erst viele Jahrzehnte, nachdem die aufwendigen Kapitelle sechster oder siebter Verarbeitungsstufe auf den Kykladen und in Ionien ihre Reife erlangt hatten.23 In der langen Geschichte der antiken Marmorsteinmetzkunst wurden die oben genannten Ausarbeitungsstufen immer aus rein technischen Gründen eingehalten und keine von ihnen konnte als unnötig ausgelassen werden. Daher umfasst die Gestaltung eines Kapitells beispielsweise der sechsten Verarbeitungsstufe alles, was als Prozess für die Gestaltung eines Kapitells der fünften, vierten oder dritten Verarbeitungsstufe erforderlich gewesen wäre. Umgekehrt waren Arbeitsschritte, die für jede dritte oder vierte Verarbeitungsstufe erforderlich waren, für jede fünfte usw. gleichermaßen erforderlich. Mit anderen Worten, die Existenz einer Vielzahl von Kapitellen mit konvexen oder konkaven Volutenstreifen, mit flachen Kanten oder ohne usw., ist nicht das Ergebnis einer komplexen Entwicklung in abweichende Richtungen, sondern das Ergebnis einer selektiven und kombinierenden künstlerischen Anwendung von Elementen, die allen Verarbeitungsstufen gemeinsam sind. Mit diesen Beobachtungen beschränkt sich die Frage nach Ursprung und Entwicklung auf die

 22 Ebenso sind die Theorien eines östlichen Ursprungs des ionischen Kapitells, hauptsächlich aus Phönizien im 7. Jahrhundert v. Chr., durch seine äolischen Varianten, unzureichend. Tatsächlich sind die Ähnlichkeiten mit den phönizischen Exemplaren sehr gering, während in Griechenland selbst die Existenz ähnlicher Objekte mit Voluten (siehe Wilson-Jones 2014, Abb. 4.5, 4.31, 5.14), die denen der archaischen und klassischen Kapitelle in hohem Maße ähneln, bereits aus der mykenischen Zeit dokumentiert ist. Dies widerspricht zwar nicht dem östlichen Einfluss, ist aber auf die Beziehungen zurückzuführen, welche die Minoer und Mykener im 2. Jahrtausend v. Chr., insbesondere mit Ägypten, unterhielten. Zu diesem Thema siehe: Boardman 1959, 212–218; Akurgal 1960, 6–7; Wesenberg 1971. 23 Boardman 1959, 206; Kirchhoff 1988, 9; Shoe-Meritt 1996, 121, 125; McGowan 1997, 223; Hellmann 2002, 154; Barletta 2017, 185–190.

  Manolis Korres wesentlichsten, während ihre Verbindung mit den vorherrschenden Typen in den Gebieten dieser Architektur durch die zutreffendsten Studien ionischer Formen immer ausreichend beleuchtet wird. Für das Vorliegende werden die wichtigsten Formvariationen des ionischen Kapitells wie folgt zusammengefasst: – Durch archäologische Funde und neue Beobachtungen scheinen heute die alten Hypothesen der getrennten Ausführung von Volutenkörper und Echinus24 sowie der Existenz von Holzkapitellen mit spiralgeschmückten Sattelhölzern25 viel wahrscheinlicher26 – Frühere Belege: kleine Marmorsäulen mit einem ionischen Kapitell als Träger für Votivstandbilder in Naxos (7. Jh.).27 – Monumentale ionische Säulen: Träger von Marmorsphingen in Delphi,28 auf Ägina,29 in Kyrene30 usw. (6. Jh.). Erste Säulen monumentaler ionischer Gebäude, vor der Mitte des 6. Jhs beginnend, in Naxos,31 Samos,32 Chios,33 Ionien34 Mazedonien35 und den griechischen Kolonien.36 In Athen erste Exemplare: kleine Votivsäulen nach der Mitte des 6. Jhs;37 erste große monumentale Säulen Ende des 6. Jhs;38 erste Verwendung in einem Gebäude 490–470 v. Chr. (Vorgänger der Propyläen).39 Typen: einfache Kapitelle ohne Echinus und Abakus in Delos (7.–6. Jh.)40 und später in Athen (Mitte 6. Jh.).41 Auf den Kykladen länglicher Volutenkörper mit vertikalen

 24 Martin 1958, 127. 25 Gruben 1960, 7, 1996, 65. 26 Kienast 1999, 140, Abb. 5, Taf. 1,2; Hellman 2002, 164. 27 Gruben 1989. 28 Amandry 1953, 3–32, Taf. 8–12, 14. 29 Gruben 1965. 30 White 1971. 31 Lambrinoudakis/Gruben 1987, passim, Abb. 39 (überholt); Gruben 1991, Abb. 4. 32 Hellner 2009, passim, 201–204 mit Abb. 28; Gruben 2014, passim, Taf. 109–120, Beil. 1–5. 33 Boardman 1959. 34 Ohnesorg, 2007, passim, Taf. 36–40; Gruben 1963, Abb. 10, 16, 38, 39; Koenigs 1997; Weber 1999, passim, Abb. 22; 2002, Abb. 17, 34; Gentili 1967, Abb. 11, Abb. 20. 35 Bakalakis 1936; 1964; 1975. 36 Benoit 1954; Theodorescu 1968; Mertens 2005; Treister/Vinogradov 1993, 558f., Abb. 26 (Hermonassa). 37 Borrmann 1887; 1888a; 1888b; Kawerau 1907; Raubitschek 1938; 1943; Shoe-Meritt 1993; 1996; McGowan 1993; 1997; Keesling 2005. 38 Korres 1997. 39 Korres 2017, 164–167, Taf. VIII-IX. 40 Vallois 1966, 163; Martin 1973, Nr. 1, Nr. 2. 41 Raubitschek 1938, 163, 164, Abb. 20, 21 (Akropolismuseum, Inv. Nr. 10261).

Das Volutenkapitell aus Sykaminos  

Fronten, reich verzierter Blattkranz als Echinus, eine Reihe von Rillen an den Polstern, kein Abakus, vertikal oder horizontal gerichteten Voluten42 und dazwischen, über dem Echinus, eine mittlere Fläche mit farblich oder plastisch geprägten Motiven.43 In Athen die Übernahme des Kykladen-Typus, jedoch mit einem Abakus, einem kleineren, nicht plastisch geprägten Echinus und einem Polster mit nur einem mittleren gemalten oder schematisch plastischen Zier-Element (keine parataktische Gliederung).44 Gemalte, eingeritzte oder leicht reliefierte Voluten und manchmal zwischen diesen, über der Mitte des Echinus, gemalter oder leicht plastischer Schmuck. Auf Samos Kapitelle ohne Abakus wie auf den Kykladen, jedoch mit geknicktem oberem Rand der Voluten und reich verziertem Hypotrachelion.45 In Ephesos Kapitelle wie auf den Kykladen, jedoch mit Abakus und geneigten Fronten.46

 Teil 2: Das Kapitell EAM 4797 (Abb. 1, 11–15) . Geometrische Dokumentation Die direkte geometrische Dokumentation besteht aus fünf Originalen im Maßstab 1 : 1. Davon ist eines auf Karton (50 x 70 cm), neu (2019) und enthält die linke Seitenansicht und charakteristische Schnitte. Die anderen, alle auf nicht dehnbarer Duplomat-Folie, wurden 1976 erstellt. Von diesen haben zwei die Draufsicht und die Untersicht zum Thema und wurden mit einem System aus Winkeln, Greifzirkel und Profilabnehmern erstellt. Die anderen beiden haben als Thema die Kapitellfronten und wurden mit einem hochpräzisen Stereopantographen angefertigt. Daher enthalten diese Pläne neben allen sichtbaren Linien auch Konturlinien gleichabstehender Schnitte, die parallel zu den Fronten ausgerichtet sind. Durch diese Linien wird die doppelt gekrümmte Oberfläche des Echinus dreidimensional dokumentiert. Auf dieser Grundlage und nach einer Inspektion vor Ort (2019) wurden die Originale auf transparentes Papier per Hand hochzeichnet (übertragen). Auf den Plänen 1 : 1 sind auch Gitterkreuze (einem 10 x 10 cm System entsprechend) aufgetragen, womit das Gedruckte trotz möglichen Papierverzugs und sonstiger Abweichungen immer noch (durch geeignete Messumrechnung) die Präzision des Originals wiedergibt.  42 Bakalakis 1958 (Thasos); Kontoleon 1968; Martin 1972 (Thasos); 1973 (Delos); Ohnesorg 1993; 1996; 1997; Haselberger 1986; 43 1) «Inwood-Kapitell» (British Museum 443); Inwood 1831, 132–137, Taf. XXIV, XXV 2) Kapitell aus dem Olivenhain (Nat. Mus. Δ877); Korres 1996, 112–113, Abb. 34. u. Anm. 63 (Zeichnungen von Ch. Hansen u. E. Schaubert). Aufgrund der letzteren wurde eine neue Taf. (Abth.I,Bl. XIX) der deutschen Wiedergabe (1843) des Inwood 1831 zur Bereicherung von ihrem Hrsg. A. F. von Quast hinzugefügt. 44 Amandry 1953; Shoe-Meritt 1993, 1996; McGowan 1993, 1997. 45 Gruben 1960, 2014; Mertens 2005, (zur Einführung) 26–35; 241–248, 295–309. 46 Alzinger 1972–1973.

  Manolis Korres

. Zufällige oder absichtliche Abweichungen von der Normalform Offensichtlich sind die Fronten des Kapitells nicht vertikal, wie es ihrem kykladischen Typ angemessen wäre, sondern paradoxerweise geneigt, wobei der obere Teil zurücktritt, was in striktem Gegensatz zu der Regel für Kapitelle mit geneigten Fronten wie etwa den ephesischen steht. Daher misst die untere Breite fast 2 cm oder ~ 1΄΄ mehr als die obere. Diese Neigung ist an der Front mit den konvexen Volutenstreifen dreimal stärker ausgeprägt als diejenige an der Front mit den konkaven Volutenstreifen (Abb. 15). Außerdem verläuft die Oberseite nicht parallel zur Auflagerfläche, so dass auf einer Seite, der mit den konkaven Volutenstreifen, die Höhe (vom Unterlager zur Oberseite, Hmax ca. 274 mm) 3 mm geringer ist. Schließlich zeigt der Kreis des Blattkranzes gegenüber der Säulenachse eine Exzentrizität von ca. 0,5 cm zur Front mit den konvexen Volutenstreifen. Diese Abweichungen könnten zufällig sein, scheinen aber eher beabsichtigt zu sein, da alles stets die Sichtbarkeit derselben Front, der mit den konkaven Volutenstreifen, verbessert. Da das Kapitell in einer Höhe von mehr als drei Metern angebracht und zusammen mit der Skulptur nur von einem tiefer liegenden Punkt aus sichtbar war, kamen die Voluten der Hauptfront durch die Verringerung ihrer ungünstigen Neigung und das dazwischenstehende Anthemion durch die Rücknahme des Echinus ästhetisch etwas besser zur Geltung. Darüber hinaus kann die geringe Neigung der Oberseite zur Hauptfront dazu beigetragen haben, dass das Bildwerk eine leichte Neigung zum Betrachter aufwies.

. Hauptzüge des Entwurfs (Abb. 16) Wie die bisherigen Studien zeigen, sind der Echinus bzw. Blattkranz und der Volutenkörper zwei selbständige Bauelemente,47 die jeweils einzeln verwendet werden können.48 Mit ihrer Vereinigung wurden jedoch Verpflichtungen eingegangen, hauptsächlich hinsichtlich des zufriedenstellenden Aussehens der Blätter an beiden Fronten und an der Unterseite des Kapitells. Bei jeweils beinahe etablierten Proportionen der Blätter hängen die Proportionen des Blattkranzes hauptsächlich mit der Zahl dieser Blätter zusammen. Dabei soll der Entwerfende auch entscheiden, wie viele dieser Blätter an den Fronten zwischen den Voluten erscheinen. Schließlich soll er die Breite des Volutenkörpers, den Volutenabstand, den Durchmesser des Kranzes und die Zahl der Blätter in Einklang bringen, damit die Unterteilung des Kranzes in

 47 Guhl 1845, 45; Puchstein 1887, 46; Borrmann 1888b, 276 (… „des oblongen sattelholzförmigen Volutenstücks“ …), 276; Martin 1958, 127; Gruben 1960, 7, 1996, 65; Kienast 1999, 140, Abb. 5, Taf. 1,2; Hellman 2002, 164. 48 Puchstein 1887, 46–50.

Das Volutenkapitell aus Sykaminos  

zwei sichtbare und zwei bedeckte Segmente möglichst durch vollständige Blattzahlen erfolgt. Die Gesamtzahl ist im Idealfall ein Vielfaches von 4, z. B. 12,49 1650 oder 20,51 so dass auf beiden der sich kreuzenden Symmetrieachsen gleiche Blättereinrichtungen erscheinen. In einigen Fällen, wie im vorliegenden, ist die Zahl der Blätter nur durch 2 teilbar. Selten ist diese Zahl ungerade, wie z. B. am Volutenkapitell der Sphinxsäule von Delphi mit nur 17 Blättern. Da die Sphinx über einer der beiden Schmalseiten des Kapitells nach vorne blickt, war vielleicht beabsichtigt, durch die ungerade Zahl der Blätter nicht nur diese Richtung besonders hervorzuheben, sondern zusätzlich dem Betrachter anstelle der üblichen visuellen Axialität der Volutenseiten eine nach vorne abweichende, fast diagonale Blickrichtung zugunsten einer vollständigeren Erscheinung der Sphinx zu suggerieren. In ähnlicher Weise lässt sich das Vorkommen von ungeraden Zahlen bei anderen Kapitellen erklären.52 Der Entwurf des Kapitells ist wie folgt zusammengefasst (Abmessungen in cm u. Dactylen):53 Oberer Säulendurchmesser (d) = Durchmesser der Lagerfläche = 32,6 = 17½΄΄. Breite des Volutenkörpers gleich seiner Höhe und dem oberen Säulendurchmesser (d) = 32,6 = 17½΄΄. Die Breite der Volute (14΄΄) entspricht der Höhe des Kapitells ca. 27,4 cm (zwischen Lagerfläche und Oberseite).54 Länge des Volutenkörpers, ca.  49 Paros, Mus. Inv. Nr. 793: Ohnesorg 1993, 115–116, Taf. XXI, 7. 50 Paros, Mus. Inv. Nr. 775: Ohnesorg 1993, 113–114, Taf. XXI, 1–2; Delos, Martin 1973, Nr. 12; Chios, Phana: Boardman 1959, 180, Abb. 4, Taf. XXVII, a-b. 51 Delos, Eckkapitell (theoretisch 20 Eier): Gruben, 1997, 363/372, Abb. 49, 53–54; Marseille, ionisches Kapitell, Benoit 1954; Naxos, Tempel des Dionysos: Lambrinoudakis/Gruben 1987, Abb. 39 (überholt); Gruben 1991, Abb. 4. 52 Der Blattkranz des Sphinxkapitells A583 im Museum von Delos ist an einer Seite soweit zerstört, dass die einstige Einrichtung der Blätter nicht eindeutig durch das Erhaltene ermittelt werden kann. Falls eben an dieser Seite keine zu starke Unregelmäßigkeit existierte, ist der Kranz mit 21 Blättern zu rekonstruieren. Beim Archilochoskapitell (Ohnesorg 1993, 114, Taf. XXI, 3–4), hat der vollständig erhaltene Echinus nur 15 Blätter, die symmetrisch zur Frontachse eingerichtet sind. 53 Aufgrund inhärenter Probleme der Metrologie in der Archäologie der Architektur (die von Bankel 1983 treffend erörtert sind) vermeidet der Autor normalerweise, metrologische Hypothesen zu äußern. Im vorliegenden Fall sind jedoch die wichtigsten Dimensionen des Kapitells erhalten (oder lassen sich berechnen). Bei drei selbstständigen Größen kommt der gleiche Wert vor, was ein hohes Maß an Zuverlässigkeit bei der metrologischen Interpretation bietet. 54 Es fällt auf, dass die Maße von Höhe, Länge und durchschnittlichem Volutenabstand des Kapitells praktisch identisch mit den entsprechenden Abmessungen des blockartigen Kapitells von Delos sind. Nach Martin, 1973, 373 sind sie: H = 27,5 cm, L = 89,9 cm, 35,9 cm (!). Aufgrund dieser Übereinstimmung wird ein Fuß zu 29,7 cm angenommen, der mit fast allen Massen beider Kapitelle einwandfrei übereinstimmt. Die Oberseite des delischen Kapitells ist nach Martin 1973, Abb. 2 (Zeichnung von D. Theodorescu) 39 cm breit, oder genau 21΄΄ des angenommenen Fußes. Zusammengefasst: Die Hauptdimensionen des Kapitells Martin 1 lassen sich, wie sie auf der Zeichnung aufgetragen sind, genau in Daktylen ausdrücken: L = 48΄΄, Β = 21΄΄, Η = 14΄΄. Offensichtlich wurden die untergeordneten Größen mit ganzen und halben Daktylen dimensioniert und auch nicht genau eingehalten. Ähnliches geschah auch mit den untergeordneten Dimensionen des Kapitells aus Sykaminos, die auf der entsprechenden isometrischen Zeichnung des Verf. in einer etwas idealisierten Form aufgetragen sind.

  Manolis Korres 89,7 cm = 3΄ (= 48΄΄), durchschnittlicher Abstand der Voluten 35,9 cm (=35,1/2+36,6/2; 36,6 cm ist nur um 6 mm kürzer als 20΄΄ und 35,9 ist um 3 mm kürzer als 19½΄΄). Durchmesser des Echinus (de) = 1½d = 49,8 =26¼΄΄. Die Zahl 26¼΄΄, die anscheinend nicht rund genug ist, ist kein Zufall. Wird sie mit der Zahl 22/7, dem einfachsten rationalen Ansatz der irrationalen Zahl π, multipliziert, so ergibt sich als Umfang des Echinus die Zahl 82½΄΄, die gut mit der Anzahl (22) der Echinusblätter verbunden ist. Wird die Länge des Umfangs durch die Anzahl der Blätter dividiert, so ergibt sich als Breite eines Blattes der Wert 3¾΄΄, also wieder eine rationale Zahl. Man kann das Gleiche durch eine Division berechnen: 26¼ '' / 7 = 3¾΄΄ Die Aufteilung des Kreises in 22 gleiche Bögen (16o,363636…) wird mit der folgenden Aufteilung kombiniert: Auf beiden Seiten erscheinen zwischen den Voluten sechs Blätter, während die anderen Blätter, je fünf, den Polstern in guter Übereinstimmung mit ihrer fünfteiligen Gliederung nachstehen. Die spezifische Verteilung der Blätter hätte optimal mit einem Abstand der Voluten von ca. 20΄΄ sowie mit der Breite des Volutenkörpers (17½΄΄) harmonisiert. Die Länge der Sehnen (Ch6 und Ch5) der Bögen 6x16o,3636… (= 98o,1818…) und 5x16o,363636 (= 81o,8181 ... ) werden wie folgt angenähert: 19΄΄+ 13/16 < Ch6 < 19΄΄+14/16, Ch5 =~17΄΄+3/16. Dies ist völlig beabsichtigt, da die Außenkanten der Voluten (ihrer äußeren Seile) abgeschrägt oder abgerundet sind und daher ihr Kontakt mit dem Echinus in einem gewissen Rückzug erfolgen muss, der in diesem Fall in der Größenordnung von ~ (3+6)/2 = 4,5 mm liegt. Dieser Betrag, ca. ¼΄΄, entspricht der Tiefe des Reliefs in den verschiedenen Teilen des Kapitells. Zu diesen und ihrem Grad der Einhaltung während der Ausführung siehe unten. Die Verwendung der Zahl 22 am Umfang des Echinus führt unweigerlich zu Archimedes und der Berechnung der Kreiszahl (des Verhältnisses von Umfang zu Durchmesser) 223/71