CHAPTER IV.

THE SPRING KALLIRRHOË-ENNEAKROUNOS ‘NEAR’ THE CITADEL.

καὶ τῇ κρήνῃ τῇ νῦν μὲν τῶν τυράννων οὕτω σκευασάντων

Ἐννεακρούνῳ καλουμένῃ, τὸ δὲ πάλαι φανερῶν τῶν πηγῶν οὐσῶν

Καλλιῤῥόῃ ὠνομασμένῃ—ἐκείνῃ τε ἐγγὺς οὔσῃ τὰ πλείστου ἄξια

ἐχρῶντο, καὶ νῦν ἔτι ἀπὸ τοῦ ἀρχαίου πρό τε γαμικῶν καὶ ἐς ἄλλα

τῶν ἱερῶν νομίζεται τῷ ὕδατι χρῆσθαι.

The argument now stands as follows. As evidence that the old city was

_the present citadel with the addition of what is below it towards about

South_ Thucydides has adduced two facts: 1st, that _the sanctuaries

are in the citadel, those of other deities as well (as the Goddess)_;

2nd, that _those that are outside are placed towards this part of the

city more (than elsewhere)_. Instances of such outside shrines are _the

sanctuary of Zeus Olympios and the Pythion, and the sanctuary of Ge,

and that of Dionysos-in-the-Marshes_. This last is defined, to prevent

confusion with the later sanctuary of Dionysos Eleuthereus, as the scene

of the earlier Dionysia. Finally, _other ancient sanctuaries also_ (not

named) are placed here.

We next come to the third fact adduced as evidence, namely, a statement

as to the position of the ancient city spring, as follows: ‘_And the

spring which is now called “Nine-Spouts,” from the form given it by

the despots, but which formerly, when the sources were open, was named

Fair-Fount—this spring_ (I say) _being near, they used for the most

important purposes, and even now it is still the custom in consequence

of the ancient_ (habit) _to use the water before weddings and for

other sacred purposes_.’ Was ever argument stated in fashion more odd,

involved, and utterly Thucydidean?

A spring which was once called Kallirrhoë and now Enneakrounos is ‘near,’

_i.e._ is near the ancient city as above defined, and is now used for

weddings and the like. Why does Thucydides, who is ‘least of all

mortals a gossip,’ tell us about the water and the weddings? Why refer

to the history of the fountain at all? Because, as in the case of the

Anthesteria, the reference to things ancient is part of his argument.

The train of thought is this. The water of Nine-Spouts is now used for

weddings. Why? On the face of it there seems no particular reason. The

fountain ‘Nine-Spouts’ has water enough and to spare. But the fountain

‘Nine-Spouts’ was not always there, it replaced ‘Fair-Fount,’ and this

spring the ancient Athenians used only for ‘most important’ purposes.

Again, why? Well, clearly because there was not enough of it for general

use. It was ‘near,’ and yet they reserved it for special purposes. We

may gather, then, from the account of Thucydides, though he does not

expressly state it, the despots not only changed the name but increased

the ‘water supply[259].’

As to where the spring was, save that it is ‘near,’ Thucydides says

absolutely nothing. It might be North, East, South, or West. We who

have followed him step by step down the western slope, from the

Olympieion and Pythion to the sanctuary of Ge and to the sanctuary of

Dionysos-in-the-Marshes, expect to find ‘Nine-Spouts’ somewhere near

these sites, somewhere in the depression enclosed by Acropolis, Pnyx,

and Areopagos. But we must bear in mind that this expectation is based

on _our_ identification of the previous sanctuaries, not on any words of

Thucydides about the spring.

But when we ask, as we inevitably must, where did _Pausanias_ see the

famous fountain, we are in better case. Pausanias[260] saw ‘Nine-Spouts’

near to the Odeion, and the Odeion he saw immediately after the statues

of Harmodios and Aristogeiton, on the slope of the Areopagos. Immediately

after the Enneakrounos, ‘beyond the fountain,’ as he says, Pausanias[261]

saw the temples of Demeter and Kore, which can scarcely be separated

from the Thesmophorion on the Pnyx. Somewhere adjacent to both Pnyx and

Areopagos we should, from Pausanias, expect to find ‘Nine-Spouts,’ and

there find it we shall.

* * * * *

It is fortunate for us that Thucydides was so explicit about the

fountain. He gives us not merely a fountain called Fair-Fount but a

fountain called Fair-Fount that was turned into Nine-Spouts. This is

fortunate, because the word translated ‘Fair-Fount,’ _Kallirrhoë_, is

a term so general that it might be applied to almost any spring. If in

travelling through Greece to-day you stop to drink from a spring and

ask your guide its name, he will, three times out of four, tell you it

is _Mavromati_, _Black-Eye_, because that is a term so general as to be

safely applicable. So at Athens there was, certainly in later days and

possibly even in the time of Thucydides, another Kallirrhoë far away on

the Ilissus. As Socrates, in the _Axiochos_[262], was going out towards

Kynosarges and had reached the Ilissos he heard some one shouting to

him, and turning round he saw Kleinias running towards Kallirrhoë.

Clearly this was another Kallirrhoë, not the one near the Pnyx. How

this duplication of Kallirrhoës at Athens arose will later (p. 143) be

considered. The Kallirrhoë we are in search of is the Fair-Fount _which

became the Nine-Spouts_, that and no other.

It is worth noticing how quickly the spring lost its old name. People

were, no doubt, very proud of the new _Nine-Spouts_. Herodotus[263]

naively assumes that in the days of the Pelasgians _Fair-Fount_ was

called _Nine-Spouts_. The Athenians said that their expulsion of the

Pelasgians from Attica was justified, for ‘the Pelasgians who were

settled under Hymettus used to make excursions thence and do lawless

deeds. Their daughters used constantly to go to the Enneakrounos for

water, for at that time the Greeks had no household servants, and

whenever they came the Pelasgians used to offer them violence out of

insolence and contempt.’ There must have been people alive in the days of

Thucydides whose fathers remembered the change made by the despots, yet

the name _Fair-Fount_ was, when Thucydides wrote, evidently a matter of

antiquarian knowledge.

* * * * *

The question now before us is, Have we evidence that a spring, naturally

small but reinforced and rearranged at the time of the despots, existed

in the district enclosed by the Pnyx, Areopagos, and Acropolis? A

glance at the plan in Fig. 35 will show that such evidence does indeed

exist. In the Pnyx rock at the point marked Y is the spring Kallirrhoë,

Fair-Fount. It has been reinforced by water from the district of the

Ilissus, brought in the conduit of Peisistratos. In front of the ancient

Kallirrhoë once stood a Fountain-House, also of the date of the despots,

the Fountain-House called Nine-Spouts, Enneakrounos.

The evidence for this threefold statement must be examined in detail. But

first a word must be said as to the geological conditions of the site so

far as they bear on the water-supply of Athens.

* * * * *

For her water-supply, and especially for her drinking water, Athens

depends, has always depended, not on her rivers but her wells. In

describing the Enneakrounos Pausanias[264] says, ‘There are wells

throughout all the city, but this is the only spring.’ His statement

as regards the spring is not strictly correct. Besides Kallirrhoë the

ancient city possessed two natural springs, and these both on the

Acropolis itself, the Klepsydra at the North-West corner and the spring

in the precinct of Asklepios on the South slope. About the wells he is

right. The plain on which Athens stood was, owing to its geological

structure, amply supplied with wells. Its uppermost stratum is of

calcareous stone, the material of which the hills of Lykabettos, of the

Mouseion, and the Acropolis are all formed. Through this stratum rain can

freely filter. But beneath this calcareous layer is a second stratum of

slate and marl; this is practically impermeable, and here water collects

into wells.

[Illustration: FIG. 35.]

Wells, then, occur sporadically all over Athens and the Athenian plain,

but nowhere in such abundance as in the district under discussion[265].

The Pnyx and the Mouseion on the one side, the Areopagos and Acropolis

on the other form, as will readily be seen by reference to Fig. 46, a

sort of trough, in which both rain and subterranean water are caught and

must necessarily accumulate. As the ground slopes towards the North and

the West the water accumulated cannot make its way towards the Ilissos.

Its only outlet is the narrow and inadequate passage between the Pnyx

and the Areopagos to the Eridanos. It is not surprising that, though

the district lies high above the bed of the Eridanos, it was somewhat

marshy. That its watery character was early turned to account and led

to a dense population is shown by the fact that no less than 100 wells

have been sunk within its narrow limits. These wells will be seen dotted

about all over the plan in Fig. 35. These wells for subterranean water

are frequently reinforced by cisterns for collecting rain-water. The

cisterns are easily distinguished from the wells by the fact that they

are lined with cement. Sometimes an old well which has presumably run dry

has been turned by a coat of cement into a cistern. It is very remarkable

that, long before the days of Peisistratos, elaborate systems existed for

collecting water, in wells, cisterns, and conduits; one canal extended

as far as the Odeion of Herodes Atticus, and followed a course almost

coincident with that of Peisistratos, which it long preceded. Its complex

of wells is clearly seen at T in Fig. 35, a little to the North of the

‘Branch Conduit to Koile.’

It is beside our purpose to examine in detail the artificial

water-supply[266] of the district before the time of Peisistratos. That

such a system existed is worth noting, because it shows that the district

is a good site for the _Limnae_, and also that it was from early days

thickly populated.

* * * * *

Our immediate concern, however, is to fix, if possible, the site of

Kallirrhoë. Nor is this difficult. As the traveller goes by the modern

carriage road from the ‘Theseion’ to the Acropolis, and as he nears the

Pnyx he will see on his right a number of rock-chambers and channels cut

in the rock, originally buried out of sight but laid bare by the making

of the modern road. These are shown in Fig. 35 to the right and left

of the spot marked Kallirrhoë, and appear more plainly on the enlarged

plan in Fig. 38, where they are marked r¹-r¹⁰. They are a succession of

rock-hewn wells and cisterns and channels, dating from early Greek to

Roman times. Their number is additional evidence that the rock of the

Pnyx had a regular system for collecting water, but of the series two

only concern us, those marked r⁶ and r⁷.

An enlarged plan of the wells r⁶ and r⁷, with their connecting passages

and chambers, is given in Fig. 36. A detailed description of it is

important, because these chambers, recognized as forming the ancient

Kallirrhoë, are now closed to the public by a locked gate, behind which

few visitors to Athens penetrate.

[Illustration: FIG. 36.]

A narrow stairway, a-b, leads into a chamber (Y) hewn in the heart of

the rock. This chamber is about 4 metres square, and has an arched roof.

Immediately opposite the entrance to Y, in the Western wall, a niche 1·80

m. deep has been cut (C). In this niche the shaft of a well (r⁷) has

been sunk 2 metres deep. This is clearly shown in section in Fig. 43.

In front of the well was a barrier, so that water could be drawn without

fear of falling in. Over the well, about 0·80 metre above the pavement,

was a small niche, which may have held an image. From the entrance

of the chamber Y, about 1·30 metres high from the ground, there is a

channel, n-p, worked in the rock. It has a slight inclination towards the

niche C, and was obviously meant to collect the water that oozed from

the vaulted roof and the walls. Later it was used as a conduit for the

new water-supply brought by Peisistratos. Remains of a lead pipe and a

terra-cotta conduit were found at m.

For,—doubt is impossible,—we have here in the niche at C the ancient

Kallirrhoë. The large rock chamber Y marks it out from the other wells.

Its importance down to Roman times is shown by the fact that the chamber

Y is paved with a rich mosaic, the patterns of which are like those made

elsewhere in Athens in the time of Hadrian. The ancient well must have

kept its sanctity, otherwise it would not have been so adorned. After

the well had run dry, and when the water-supply was purely artificial,

the walls and ceiling were carefully cemented and the cement was later

renewed. Such a coating would of course have been impossible when the

roof and walls were dripping with natural water.

At the right hand of the entrance to Y was a passage, e-f, leading down

by steps into a large elliptical chamber, r⁶. This chamber, presumably a

cistern, was paved in Roman days with marble slabs, but below the marble

pavement is a stucco pavement of Greek date. From this cistern leads a

channel, i, which may have led to the well-house of Peisistratos, or, as

suggested in the restoration (Fig. 43), to a smaller subordinate fountain.

The supply of water at Kallirrhoë was slender. We have seen that efforts

were made to reinforce it by well-sinking, by conduits, by cisterns. But,

though the Athenians found the water of Kallirrhoë adequate for their

ritual baths, they had other needs, and, as the city grew and grew, the

effort to cope locally with the increasing demand proved futile. There

was a crying need for water from a distance, a great popular need such

as the despots loved to supply. Water was needed, and water was brought

in a supply practically inexhaustible, from the district of the upper

Ilissos.

* * * * *

By a happy chance in the history of excavations, long before the search

for the aqueduct of the despots began, another aqueduct, the work of

another despot, had been brought to light—the aqueduct that Polycrates

made for the Samians. At the close of his account of Polycrates,

Herodotus[267] tells us he had lingered long over the affairs of the

Samians ‘because they possessed three of the most wonderful works ever

accomplished by the Greeks.’ The first and the only one of these wonders

that concerns us was a great aqueduct bored through a mountain 150

fathoms high. The length of the tunnel, he goes on to say, was seven

stadia, the height and the breadth eight feet each way. Through this

tunnel there went a second passage, 20 cubits deep by three feet wide,

through which the water is carried along in tiled pipes from a great

spring to the city of Samos. The architect of this tunnel was a Megarean,

Eupalinos, son of Naustrophos.

Possibly, _pace_ Herodotus, even if the Samians had had no aqueduct he

would anyhow have told us the story of the ring; be that as it may,

his account of the first wonder, the aqueduct, is invaluable, and has

been fully substantiated. Never was a town by nature worse off for its

water-supply than Samos, and rarely has one been supplied by a more

astonishing piece of engineering. The ‘great spring’ Hagniades has been

found[268], the tunnel with its double channel, even the very earthenware

pipes laid down by Eupalinos. We know perfectly well what to expect in an

aqueduct made by the despots.

The excavators naturally sought for the conduit of Peisistratos in the

immediate neighbourhood of Kallirrhoë, and there, close up to the Pnyx

rock, they found it, at a distance of about 40 metres from the rock

chamber Y. From that point up to the South of the Odeion of Herodes

Atticus its course has been completely excavated. It is best seen in

Professor Dörpfeld’s official plan (Fig. 46). Just South of the Odeion

the conduit could not be cleared out, because of its damaged condition

and the mass of _débris_ that had fallen over it. Between the Odeion and

the Dionysiac theatre it runs beneath an ancient road, and passes within

the precinct of Dionysos, between the earlier and later temples. Beyond

that point its course has not been excavated in detail, but beneath the

modern Russian church a conduit passes which must be its continuation,

and this leads on to the water-course[269] discovered long ago, now

utilized for watering the Royal Gardens. This water is known to come from

the upper valley of the Ilissus (Fig. 49).

The main conduit ran, then, from the upper valley of the Ilissus to the

great reservoir basin marked on the plan in Fig. 35, but from this main

conduit several branches can be traced; the most important are the branch

tunnel that leads to the district of Koile and a smaller branch that goes

off to water the Amyneion. Other ramifications can be traced, the object

of which is not always clear; they probably occur at points where in

piercing the tunnel veins of water were reached, and some served to bring

to the main conduit subsidiary supplies from the Hill of the Muses and

from the Acropolis.

Only those, as Professor Dörpfeld[270] himself remarks, who have taken

the trouble to get right down into the tunnellings and cross tunnellings

and explore them thoroughly so far as they can be explored, can form any

idea of the magnitude of the work. Sometimes it is possible to stand

upright in the conduit, some portions can only be reached on the hands

and knees. The fact is borne in upon any one and every one who has made

even a brief exploration, he feels himself unquestionably exploring what

must have been the main artificial water-supply of ancient Athens, and

here, if such a supply were needed, must have been the centre of the

ancient city life.

The aqueduct is dated securely by comparison with the work of Eupalinos

at Samos as of the time of the despots. Two striking analogies are

observable between the aqueduct of Peisistratos at Athens and that of

Polycrates at Samos. These are the character of the pipes, and the system

of shafts. The separate pieces of the pipes at Athens are from 0·60 m.

to 0·61 in length, not counting the junction points. They are made of

fine yellowish clay; inside they are protected by a red glaze, outside

they are left rough, except that at each end they are glazed and have a

double stripe of glaze round the middle and round each end. In length and

diameter they correspond with the Samos pipes, which Professor Dörpfeld

carefully inspected for comparison[271]. The Samos pipes also are

actually decorated with stripes, only the stripes at Samos are incised,

those at Athens painted.

The same correspondence is notable in the way the pipes are joined

together: both at Athens and Samos the pipes are soldered together

with lead, and provision is made at both places for cleaning them. An

elliptical shaped hole large enough to admit the hand is left, and is

provided with a cover. A specimen of the Athenian pipes is shown in Fig.

37, and side by side with it a section of the conduit with the pipe in

position.

[Illustration: FIG. 37.]

The pipes bear abundant traces of long use and frequent repair. In quite

early days they seem to have got crusted with lime deposit from the

water, and in some cases quite choked up, the water then flowed over

the pipes and flooded the main channel to two-thirds of its height. In

some places, where the rock was soft, it seems to have got worn away and

fallen in, and portions of the tunnel became useless. New borings were

made for about 30 metres and new pipes put in; these were quadrangular

instead of round, but in the disused portion of the tunnel the old round

pipes still lie about.

Secondly, as at Samos, at intervals of from 30 to 40 metres, both tunnels

alike are provided with shafts, which served when the tunnels were first

made for the clearing away of the rock fragments, and which were made use

of for the like purpose when the conduit was excavated. These shafts are

sunk perpendicularly; one of them reached down to a depth of 12 metres,

so low does the conduit in places lie.

* * * * *

Of cardinal importance to us is the point at which the conduit debouches,

because near to that point we may hope to find the fountain-house

‘Nine-Spouts.’ The conduit ends in an arrangement which is somewhat

surprising, and which will be best understood by reference to Fig. 38.

To the extreme left, at a point near letter B, the conduit emerges. It

here consists of a massive channel built of blocks of _poros_ stone,

indicated by the thick black lines on the plan. At point a⁴ it ends in

the Pnyx rock. But, and this is the odd thing, at a³, about eight metres

before the channel ends, a pipe issues from the stone channel and running

parallel to the Pnyx rock conducts the water to the main reservoir

(Haupt-Bassin). A similar arrangement has been observed in the aqueduct

at Samos. There, too, the conduit pipe leaves the rock channel before it

ends. It is conjectured[272] that this was a plan intended to mislead an

enemy who might desire to cut off the water-supply.

The conduit actually debouches at a⁵ into the great reservoir from which

the new fountain-house Nine-Spouts must have been fed. Here, at the

reservoir, we find indications of three successive structures. First

a structure of very early date, possibly of the time of Solon. Second

that of Peisistratos. Third a late Roman structure. Of the two earlier

structures no masonry remains, but the position and dimensions can

roughly be made out by markings on the Pnyx rock, out of which the West

side of the basin was hewn. The exact size of the original basin, which

was smaller than the later one, cannot now be determined. In the time of

Peisistratos it was enlarged and deepened; the floor of the basin was

sunk nearly 1·50 metres deeper. The great basin of Peisistratos was lined

with masonry, the blocks of which have now disappeared. In Roman days

the place of the great basin of Peisistratos was taken by a quite small

structure. This change must have taken place before the building of the

late Roman villa which occupied the place where once the ‘Nine-Founts’

stood. When the villa was built the great reservoir had for some time

been disused, and the water from the aqueduct, not being needed on the

spot in any large quantity, was carried by pipes to the lower city to the

North for the supply of the new Roman market-place. These alterations

as to water-supply, it should be noted, are of the first importance in

questions of topography, and change in the direction or the extension of

an aqueduct is naturally the index of a shifting of population.

[Illustration: FIG. 38.]

The restoration by Professor Dörpfeld (Fig. 38) is, it must clearly be

understood, to a large extent conjectural. It must be consulted strictly

in conjunction with the plan in Fig. 35, where the actual remains of

Greek date are clearly marked in solid black lines. So used it can be of

great service in helping us mentally to reconstruct scattered fragments

of masonry that would otherwise be unintelligible.

* * * * *

Some of the details of the restoration have been suggested by the

water-works discovered at Megara, which are in some respects better

preserved than those at Athens. At Megara are extant not only a great

conduit to bring water from a distance but an elaborate arrangement for

utilizing it consisting of a reservoir and a pillared draw-well besides

a fountain house. It is very probable that the works of Theagenes served

as a model to Peisistratos, and therefore before the draw-well and

fountain house of Peisistratos are discussed a word must be said of the

excavations at Megara.

[Illustration: FIG. 39.]

Pausanias[273] begins his account of the city of Megara somewhat abruptly

thus. ‘In the city there is a fountain. And Theagenes built it for them.

About him I have already mentioned that he gave his daughter in marriage

to Kylon the Athenian. This Theagenes, having possessed himself of the

tyranny, built the fountain, and from its size, its decorations, and

the number of its columns, it is worth looking at. Water flows into it

called the water of the Sithnidian nymphs.’ After the excavations at

Athens, the fountain or, as perhaps it is best called, the well-house

of Theagenes at Megara was sought and found[274] at the bottom of the

Eastern Acropolis of Megara, called Karia. The aqueduct leading to the

reservoir was excavated for a considerable distance, and proved to be a

structure closely resembling those found at Athens and Samos. Eupalinos

it will be remembered was a native of Megara. The draw-well, the

supporting walls of which are well preserved, was about 15 by 20 metres

in size and built of Kara limestone, a material much used in the 6th

century B.C. for the foundations and stylobates of buildings. All round

the side whence water was drawn was a low parapet wall. This wall shows

signs in many places of being worn away by the friction of ropes and

dripping of water. The block shown in Fig. 39 is closely paralleled by

the block found in Athens and placed beneath it for comparison.

Not only, then, at Athens did a despot build a well-house and

artificially increase a supply of holy water. The original spring at

Megara was sacred to the Sithnidian nymphs; we do not know what nymphs

guarded Kallirrhoë at Athens; there were plenty about, for to this day

close at hand is the Hill of the Nymphs. Dionysos who dwelt so near was

called Limnaios, He-of-the-Marshes, Phanodemos[275] says, because he

invented the blending of must with water; hence, he adds, ‘the springs

are called Nymphs and nurses of Dionysos, because water mixed with wine

increases it.’

* * * * *

We return to the water-worn stone, the details of which are shown in

Fig. 40. This stone is of great architectural importance. From it can be

deduced not only the date of the building to which it belonged, but also

something of its dimensions and general appearance. The date is fixed by

the clamp mark at C. The clamp itself has disappeared, but its shape is

proved by the mark of its insertion. Clamps of the [Illustration] shape

only appear at Athens in buildings of about the date of Peisistratos,

e.g. on the earlier temple of Dionysos Eleuthereus. Our stone belonged to

a building of the date of Peisistratos. As regards the character of the

building, it is clear from the curve at e which is a segment of a circle,

that the stone was at this point cut away to receive a pillar. The

unworn condition of the stucco at b leads Professor Dörpfeld to conclude

that the stone was a corner stone, the angle protecting the stucco

from friction. The distance between these two points, e and b, gives

the measurement of the intercolumniations. From this one stone it is

_certain_ that a draw-well of the date of Peisistratos existed and that

it was surmounted by a colonnade. Its appearance must have been somewhat

that of the draw-well (Schoepf-brunnen) restored in Fig. 38. We pass to

the consideration of the fountain house Nine-Spouts.

[Illustration: FIG. 40.]

* * * * *

The great open square marked ‘place of the Enneakrounos’ (Fig. 38) is

really the site of Nine-Spouts. This is clear from many considerations.

1. Nine-Spouts must have stood over or in front of Fair-Fount which it

superseded. Over it would be an impossible situation, because of the

Pnyx rock, so we may securely place it in front. 2. Nine-Founts must

have stood about two metres below the level of the basin, from which it

was fed, in order that the water might flow easily in. 3. At K 2 and K

3 are the beginnings of two ancient subterranean canals which must have

been intended to carry off the superfluous water from Nine-Spouts. 4.

Straight down to this open place comes the footway from the Acropolis

and thither also all the rest of the roads ultimately converge. 5. The

place must have been in Greek times an open place, as no foundations of

Greek buildings have been found, only the remains of a great Roman house,

and under it countless wells.

This Roman house consisted of a large atrium with a peristyle of twelve

columns and several small chambers surrounding it. The walls are a

patchwork of materials of all kinds, and even the bases of the columns

are made up of fragments from other buildings. One of these fragments

belonging to the draw-well we have already discussed, another, we shall

immediately see, belongs to Nine-Spouts itself.

* * * * *

[Illustration: FIG. 41.]

Can we form any mental picture of Nine-Spouts? Fortunately vase-paintings

come to our aid. It is not a little remarkable that in the decoration

of black-figured water-vases (hydriae) of the 6th century B.C., there

appears a sudden fashion in fountain-houses. Of hydriae so decorated the

British Museum contains no less than ten. One of these[276] is reproduced

in Fig. 41. The Fountain-House depicted is of the usual shape, a

tetrastyle Doric portico. The architectural details are very clear, the

triglyphs and guttae standing out in white. In actual architecture they

would both be painted blue. Four maidens are water-drawing. Two of them

are hanging up wreaths. Over three of them their names are inscribed

Iope, Rhodopis, Kleo. But what at once arrests our attention is the

arrangement of the water-spouts. Facing us are three, a lion’s head and

two horsemen, to either side of these is a lion’s head spout; that makes

not a Nine-Spouts but a Five-Spouts. But, drawn in perspective as they

must be, do not the side spouts each represent three? It is at least

probable that we have an arrangement like that restored in Fig. 38, three

spouts facing, and three at each side. Lion-spouts are of course frequent

in Fountain-Houses. The horsemen of our vase are unique; they give the

Fountain-House a dashing despotic air.

[Illustration: FIG. 42.]

We know then just what sort of architectural fragments, we might expect

to find; we can imagine a fragment that would be conclusive. A ‘Doric’

portico might belong to more than one kind of building, a lion’s head

spout could belong only to a Fountain-House. No lion’s head has been

found, but instead, what is as good for our purpose, _a stone hollowed

out for the reception of a lions head_. This stone is shown in Fig. 42.

Not only is the space for the lion’s head evident, but behind is clearly

visible the hole for the pipe. The block is of blue calcareous stone

such as is found both on the Acropolis and the Pnyx. Of exactly the same

limestone is a small remnant of a polygonal wall from the South boundary

of the precinct of the Fountain-House.

The plan in Fig. 38 makes the general disposition of the place of

the Enneakrounos clear, the large reservoir behind (Haupt-Bassin),

immediately in front of it the draw-well (Schoepf-brunnen), and to the

right of the reservoir, and of course equally fed by it, Nine-Spouts

(Lauf-brunnen). In front a great open space. What is matter for

conjecture is the exact site and size of Nine-Spouts. A clear view of

the relation of Nine-Spouts to Fair-Fount is given in the sectional

restoration[277] in Fig. 43. There we see the vaulted rock chamber Y, the

actual well, Kallirrhoë, to which it led, and in front of it, the modern

road intervening, Nine-Spouts or Enneakrounos itself. In front of that

again the open space, possibly once enclosed, was the heart and centre of

the agora.

[Illustration: FIG. 43.]

* * * * *

Before we pass to the question of the agora it may be worth while to

notice that the well-house, Enneakrounos, Nine-Spouts, was known as

late as the seventeenth century to have been on the West slope of

the Acropolis. In the curious old plan, then drawn by Guillet and

Coronelli[278], a portion of which is reproduced in Fig. 44, we have on

the West slope not only a well against which in the key to the plan is

marked ‘Enneakrounos,’ but also close to it the ruins of a small theatre,

which may well stand for the Odeion as seen by Pausanias. In another plan

of the seventeenth century, usually known as the plan of the Capucins,

both theatre and Enneakrounos are missing, and in their place stands the

so-called ‘Theseion.’ On close examination it may be seen that on the

Capucin plan, the theatre, the Enneakrounos, and some other buildings

have been obliterated and other monuments drawn in over them. It may be

taken therefore as certain[279] that, in the seventeenth century, remains

of an ‘Enneakrounos,’ and of a theatre-like building near it, existed.

[Illustration: FIG. 44.]

* * * * *

We have had to reconstruct the _Nine-Spouts_ as best we might from

the analogy of well-houses on vase-paintings, from the remains of the

well-house at Megara, and from a few scattered, though significant

stones. We have also _inferred_ its importance from the vast system of

water-works of which it was the manifest goal. But there is another

witness to its past greatness. It is the place where all ways meet. The

irregular square in front of the well-house Nine-Spouts and in part

occupied by it was manifestly a great centre of the city life. The

complex of ancient roads is best seen in Fig. 46. The great Panathenaic

way passes along its Eastern side, but that is not all. The branch

roads from the Areopagos converge thither. Most important of all for

us, straight down from the Acropolis gate, skirting the Amyneion, there

descends a narrow footway. By this we may be sure the King’s daughters

descended to fetch water from Kallirrhoë.

* * * * *

A word must be said as to the nature and surroundings of the main ancient

road, which topographically is of capital importance. Somewhere along

its course must have lain the ancient Agora. Our first impression is,

unexpectedly, of narrowness, just as it is when we stand on the other

Sacred Way, at Delphi. On the Panathenaic way five persons can only just

stand abreast; the chariots must have gone in single file. It is in fact

a narrow Oriental street. It is bounded on either side by walls of good

polygonal masonry and is hemmed in, as is seen on the map, by houses and

precincts. Beneath the road is an elaborate system of drainage pipes with

shafts by which they could be entered for cleaning purposes. There are of

course many cross-roads, two to the left leading to the Areopagos, one to

the Pnyx, another to Koile. The footway leading straight to the Acropolis

has already been noted.

One of the best preserved portions of the road is that which runs along

by the Western side of the precinct of _Dionysos-in-the-Marshes_. Here

the polygonal walls on both sides are well preserved. Almost opposite the

wine-press we come on buildings which, from inscriptions, can be dated as

of the sixth and fifth centuries B.C. These consist of an open exedra,

quadrangular in shape and of polygonal masonry. Inside this precinct is a

small shrine with no columns, in front of it an altar of _poros_ stone.

Both material and technique point to the sixth century B.C. To whom the

shrine is dedicated is not known. Thucydides could perhaps have told

us. In the course of the century next following the shrine must have

fallen into disuse. As the level of the road rose it would, once disused,

speedily get covered up. That this was actually the case is clearly shown

by the fact that a building of the fourth century B.C. was superimposed.

It extended right back to the Pnyx rock. Two boundary stones of this

later building are still[280] _in situ_ in the wall bordering on the

main road; on each is inscribed ‘Boundary of the Lesche’ (ὅρος λέσχης).

Immediately next to the South comes a building of polygonal limestone

masonry. Two inscriptions show that this building was mortgaged, so it

must have been a private house. Beyond this there is nothing of special

interest till we come to the great open place in which stood the fountain

Nine-Spouts.

The careful engineering of the road, its elaborate drainage, the way

it is close packed on either side with houses and sanctuaries leave

us no doubt but that in it we have the one and, it appears, the only

chariot-way from the agora to the Acropolis. The shrines that line this

regular approach lie essentially and emphatically _towards that part of

the city_.

* * * * *

So far we have considered the road as an approach, but it must always be

remembered that historically we have to reverse our procedure. The city

grows _from_ the central hill, not _towards_ it, and that outward growth

is clear. It may be traced on the map in Fig. 46. The ancient agora lay

in the hollow between the hills directly overlooked by the assembly place

on the Pnyx; then as it outgrew these narrow limits it was forced bit by

bit round the West shoulder of the Areopagus, and there turned Eastward

by the hill Kolonos Agoraios, on which stands the ‘Theseion’; below

that hill was the Stoa Basileios, which in the fifth century B.C. was

assuredly part of the agora. The agora could not spread Westward; the

hill prevented that; it was forced always Eastward, first in Hellenistic

days as far as the Stoa of Attalos, then in Roman days to the Gate of

the Roman Agora and the Tower of the Winds. Such is its long but simple

story. If we follow the water-course of Peisistratos and its later Roman

extension we shall not go wrong.

The houses that covered the square in front of Nine-Spouts, and into

which fragments of the well-house were built, are all of Roman date.

Clear them away, and we have, as has been seen, a great quadrangular

space in front of the city well, a place to which all ways converge (Fig.

46). Surely here, if anywhere, is the ancient agora, close to the city

gates.

* * * * *

It is remarkable that, visiting Athens half a century before the

excavations began, an English scholar, Christopher Wordsworth[281],

by sheer light of common sense, saw that here, and here only, could

the ancient agora be, and here he marked it on his quaint, rudimentary

map (Fig. 45). His words are, as contrasted with later confusions,

memorable. ‘In order,’ he says, ‘to obtain a distinct notion of the

natural characteristics of the spot to which we refer, let us consider

it in the _first place_ as abstracted from all artificial modifications;

let us imagine ourselves as existing in the days of Kekrops, and

looking upon the site of Athens. In a wide plain, which is enclosed by

mountains except on the South, where it is bounded by the sea, rises

a flat, oblong rock lying from East to West about fifty yards high,

rather more than one hundred and sixty broad, and about three hundred

in length. It is inaccessible on all sides but the West, on which it is

approached by a steep slope. This is the future Acropolis or Citadel of

Athens. We place ourselves upon this eminence and cast our eyes about

us. Immediately on the West is a second hill, of irregular form, lower

than that on which we stand and opposite to us. This is the Areopagus.

Beneath it on the South-West is a valley neither deep nor narrow, open

both at the North-West and South-East. Here was the Agora or public

place of Athens. Above it to the South-West rises another hill, formed

like the two others already mentioned of hard and rugged limestone,

clothed here and there with a scanty covering of herbage. On this hill

the popular assemblies of the future citizens of Athens will be held. It

will be called the Pnyx. To the South of it is a fourth hill, of similar

kind, known in after-ages as the Museum. Thus a group of four hills

is presented to our view, which nearly enclose the space wherein the

Athenian Agora existed, as the Forum of Rome lay between the hills of the

Capitol and the Palatine.’

[Illustration: FIG. 45.]

The secret of Dr Wordsworth’s insight lies in the words, ‘we place

ourselves upon the eminence and cast our eyes about us.’ He stood on the

actual hill, realized, as Thucydides did, that that was the beginning of

things, noted the shape of the hill and its only possible approach, and

saw that the developments of the city must lie that way, _towards that

part_, as Thucydides would say. Half a century later Prof. Dörpfeld,

coming with the trained eye of the engineer and architect, made, quite

independently of Dr Wordsworth, the same observation. The valley enclosed

by the Acropolis, Areopagus, Pnyx, and Mouseion, was then utterly barren

of visible remains; other archaeologists had placed their agora where

ancient remains were visible, North or South of the Acropolis; Prof.

Dörpfeld, in defiance of orthodox tradition, placed it West, and there

his excavations, as we have seen, brought to light the sanctuary of

Dionysos-in-the-Marshes, the ‘Nine-Spouts,’ the Panathenaic Way, and the

host of sanctuaries, houses, wine-presses, wells, and water-courses that

encompassed the ancient agora.

* * * * *

Later we shall have to examine what it was that led other scholars and

archaeologists astray; for the present we must return to Thucydides. He

never mentions the agora, his thoughts never for a moment stray from his

city before Theseus. He has shown its meagre extent and the immediate

proximity of its most ancient sanctuaries, and to clinch his argument he

returns to the citadel itself and its ancient name; he resumes the whole

argument (see p. 8) in its last and most emphatic clause.

_Because of the ancient settlement here, the citadel as well_ (as the

present city) _is still to this day called the city_.

Thucydides is strictly correct both as regards official and literary

usage. An examination of official inscriptions shows that down to the

Peace of Antalcidas (387-6 B.C.) the Acropolis was officially known as

_polis_[282]. The new form ‘in the Acropolis’ first appears in the year

of the peace[283], and from then on is in regular use. In literature,

both in prose and verse, _polis_ is still uniformly used after a local

preposition, _e.g._ towards the _polis_, in the _polis_; but when there

is no local preposition the word acropolis is employed. Thus, in the

_Knights_ of Aristophanes[284], when the Sausage-Seller sees the Goddess

herself coming from the _polis_ with her owl perched on her, and there

is no shadow of doubt that Athena is coming from the Acropolis; but

Lysistrata[285] says, ‘to-day we shall seize the Acropolis,’ where

there is no local preposition, though the sense would have been clear

with _polis_. As Dr Wyse[286] has pointed out, it was easy for the word

_polis_ to go on being used for the Acropolis, because the Athenians had

another word (ἄστυ), which they used in such phrases as ‘in town,’ ‘to

town.’

* * * * *

We have learnt from Thucydides all he has to tell us, and in the light of

recent excavations he seems to have spoken clearly enough. The limits of

his ancient city have been confirmed by the discovery of the old Pelasgic

fortifications. We have seen with our own eyes two of the ancient

sanctuaries which lay _towards_ his city, the Pythion and the sanctuary

of Dionysos-in-the-Marshes; and from literary evidence inferred the two

others, the Olympieion and the sanctuary of Ge. We have noted that,

in the order in which Thucydides names them, they occur in succession

from East to West; and, most convincing of all, near to the last-named

sanctuary we have found Nine-Spouts, and not only Nine-Spouts, but the

old Fair-Fount that was before it. Thus all seems clear and simple;

Thucydides, Pausanias, and modern excavations tell the same harmonious

tale.

[Illustration: FIG. 46.

From _Antike Denkmäler_ II. 37.]

CONCLUSION.

Having now stated what we believe to be the truth respecting the ancient

burgh of Athens, its nature and limits and the position of its early

Sanctuaries, we have still, in accordance with the plan proposed at the

outset (p. 4), to examine other and, as we believe, erroneous views.

These views are widely current in manuals and guide-books and are

supported by names[287] that command respect. A study of the genesis of

errors so wide-spread and deep-rooted may not be unprofitable.

The sources of error seem to us fourfold, as follows:

1. _The lie of the modern town._

2. _A misunderstanding of the text of Thucydides._

3. _The duplication of certain sanctuaries and, closely connected with

this_,

4. _Confusion as to Kallirrhoë and Enneakrounos._

1. _The lie of the modern town._

A glance at the map of modern Athens will show that its centre of gravity

lies not West but North of the Acropolis—the modern market lies there

with its throng of narrow streets and the whole modern town, with its

shops, hotels, stations, spreads out in that direction. Moreover, it is

obvious that the business part of Roman Athens also lay North. To the

North lies the Gate of the Roman agora[288], besides such buildings as

the Tower of the Winds and Hadrian’s Library (Fig. 49). More than this,

the agora of Hellenistic days (Fig. 46) lay there also, and was almost

certainly bounded on its Eastern side by the Stoa of Attalos, of which

there are still substantial remains[289]. Quite recently the foundations

of two other colonnades have come to light[290], just below and to the

East of the hill on which stands the so-called ‘Theseion.’ These two

colonnades stand just at the entrance of the Greek agora; the Northern

one is probably either the Basileion or the Stoa Basileios, the first

building described by Pausanias on his entry into the Kerameikos. The

two last colonnades played no part in attempted reconstructions of the

agora, for the simple reason that they were below ground; but the Stoa of

Attalos, that of the Giants, and the Gateway of the Roman agora have been

regularly regarded as _data_ with which any theorist was bound to start;

they had to be fitted in somehow.

[Illustration: FIG. 47.]

The next question was, where was the road that led from the agora to

the Acropolis, the Panathenaic way? Given an agora to the North and

North-East of the Areopagus, and, given that you were working at home in

your study with a flat plan before you, the answer seemed obvious; the

road must have passed straight from the agora round the Eastern end of

the Areopagus, and so straight up to the entrance at the Propylaea. The

result is a reconstruction of agora and road, like that seen in Fig. 47,

a restoration made by Prof. Curtius. So utterly is the West slope of the

Acropolis ignored, that it is simply cut off as irrelevant.

Professor Dörpfeld was the first to point out that at the Eastern end

of the Areopagus, though there is a footway up to the Acropolis, there

is not now a carriage-road, there never was, and, unless the whole

natural features of the place are altered, there never will be. The hill

at that point, though short, is impracticably steep. What looks easy

and obvious on paper is in actuality impossible. Long before he began

his excavations, Prof. Dörpfeld, with the trained eye of the practical

engineer, saw the ancient carriage-way must have followed the modern

road, that is, round the West end of the Areopagus between that hill and

the Pnyx. From that point by successive windings, then and now, it could

climb the hill. The old road we have seen has now been found; it lies in

places actually under the new and follows the same course, as natural in

500 B.C. as in 1900 A.D.

One school of topographers, headed by the great name of Curtius, placed

the agora at the North side of the Acropolis. We have seen that, though

wrong for the beginning of things, this is right for the end. Another

school, though they knew that the Roman market lay Northwards, yet had

compunctions about the earlier agora. This earlier agora they placed

due South of the Acropolis, completely separated from the Roman one.

The separation was in idea as well as in place. The early agora was

supposed to be in some obscure way a religious, the later a political

and commercial centre. Such an arrangement is shown in the plan in Fig.

48[291]. It is purely theoretical and impossible. The Panathenaic way

is made to run North of the Areopagus up the impracticable hill, and the

ancient agora lies as a sort of desert island by itself, away from the

Council House, the Tholos, the Stoa Basileios, and the rest. The West

slope is left void. When and how the mysterious leap from old to new,

from South to North, was taken no one explained. This brings us to our

second source of error.

[Illustration: FIG. 48.]

2. _A misunderstanding of the text of Thucydides._

What has led topographers to make this singular and unmeaning division of

old and new? why have they placed the old agora South of the Acropolis?

Simply because, misunderstanding the words of Thucydides, they think _he_

placed it South. Thucydides says, it will be remembered (p. 7), that, in

the days before Theseus, ‘_what is now the citadel was the city, together

with what is below it towards about South_.’ We have seen that the simple

and satisfactory explanation of the words is that the reference is to

the bit of ground known as the Pelargikon, extending mainly West and

South-West of the Acropolis and included in the ancient city. We have

also seen—and this is of paramount importance—that the sole gist and

point of Thucydides’ argument is to show the smallness of the ancient

city, to prove that it was practically the same as the citadel, only

there was this bit over ‘_towards about South_.’ It is the fatal accuracy

of Thucydides that has led to his being misunderstood. It is actually

thought that he desires to prove _two_ points: first, that the ancient

city was the citadel; second, that the portion of the city not contained

in the citadel was to the South[292]; whereas, as already seen, the

_direction_ of the city has nothing, could have nothing, to do with the

case.

Once embarked on the wrong hypothesis that Thucydides lays two

propositions before us, and that one of them is that the city lay to the

South, the downward road is easy. The four sanctuaries of Thucydides are

selected, it is supposed, to prove the second proposition, i.e. that the

city is to the South. Four sanctuaries lie ready, only too ready, to

hand. We have, South-East of the Acropolis (Fig. 49), a great Olympieion;

we know from Pausanias[293] that close by it was a great Pythion, within

the Olympieion was a precinct of Ge; and last and most convincing of all,

on the South-East slope of the Acropolis is the great Dionysiac theatre,

with its precinct and two temples. Truly a little archaeology is a

dangerous thing. So obvious, so striking are these identifications, that

at the first glance they seem to compel adhesion.

But a moment’s thought obliges us to see that, if tempting, these

identifications are impossible. From its _position_ the sanctuary

of Dionysos Eleuthereus might well have been one of those named by

Thucydides, because, as already noted (p. 67), while from his words

it would be impossible definitely to say whether the sanctuaries are

North, South, East, or West, assuredly the theatre and precinct of

Dionysos Eleuthereus _are_ ‘towards’ (πρὸς) the ancient city. But, as

we have already (p. 83) seen, it is from this familiar precinct, the

sanctuary of the later Dionysos Eleuthereus, that Thucydides is expressly

differentiating his more ancient precinct; the same is the case with the

Olympieion. Thucydides and everyone at Athens knew that this vast temple

was begun in the time of Peisistratos; was it likely to be chosen as

a sanctuary to show the limits (or even the direction) of the city of

Kekrops?

[Illustration: FIG. 49.]

As regards the Pythion, special stress has been laid on the fact

that it—not the sanctuary on the Long Rocks—is called by Pausanias

the Pythion; but the explanation is easy and manifest; Pausanias is

distinguishing it from the other sanctuary of Apollo near at hand, the

Delphinion[294].

Sanctuaries so late as these could not fairly be used to prove even

the _direction_ of the city of Kekrops; but, as already shown, it is

not direction, but _size_ with which Thucydides is concerned. To give

sanctuaries like the Olympieion and Pythion, which lay outside even

the city of Themistocles, as evidence of the smallness of an ancient

‘Mycenaean’ city, a Pelasgic fortress, is an absurdity so manifest that

statement is refutation. We are brought face to face with the third

source of error.

3. _The duplication of certain sanctuaries._

The misinterpretation of Thucydides has been helped and indeed in a large

measure caused by a most curious historical fact, calculated until it was

properly understood to mislead anyone. _There was a duplication in two

different districts of certain of the most notable Athenian sanctuaries._

To the North and West of the Acropolis, as we have seen in detail, there

were sanctuaries of Zeus Olympios, of Apollo Pythios, of Ge and of

Dionysos, and near to them was a spring Kallirrhoë, and it is of these,

if our view be correct, that Thucydides makes mention, but none the less

the fact is patent to everyone who reads Pausanias and visits modern

Athens, that to the South-East of the Acropolis there are sanctuaries

of the same divinities, of Zeus Olympios, of Apollo Pythios, of Ge and

of Dionysos, and that near these also is a spring called to this day

Kallirrhoë. How did this come to be? What does it signify? The answer

once stated is simple and convincing. The duplication of sanctuaries is

due to a shift of population from North-West to South-East, from the

district of the Pnyx to the district of the Ilissus. This shift of

population is a fact historically attested.

* * * * *

Plutarch[295] in his treatise ‘On Banishment’ is trying to persuade us

that exile is in itself no hardship. He asks, ‘Are then those Athenians

to be accounted strangers and outlaws who moved from Melite to Diomeia,

whence they called the month Metageitnion, and the sacrifice they offered

took its name _Metageitnia_ from this removal, since they accepted

pleasantly and cheerfully their neighbourhood to new people? Surely

they are not.’ Plutarch’s argument does not come to much, but we are

grateful to him for recording the fact that there was this shift of

population, when or why, alas! we do not certainly know, from Melite in

the North-West to Diomeia in the South-East (Fig. 49). Did not the people

when they moved take with them their old place-names, their old local

legends, their Kallirrhoë? We have curious incidental evidence that they

did.

Let us look for a moment at the position of the two demes. As to the

position of Melite there has never been any doubt, though its exact

boundaries are not clearly defined. Melite was the deme-name given to

the hill district West and North-West of the Acropolis. It extended on

the West to the barathron, near which cheerful site Themistocles had his

home. There, Plutarch[296] tells us, _in Melite_, he built the sanctuary

of Artemis Aristoboule which gave such umbrage to the Athenians. Melite

was, we know, near the agora and on higher ground. In the opening of the

_Parmenides_[297] Kephalos meets Adeimantos in the agora. They want to

see Antiphon, and Adeimantos says it will be easy enough for Antiphon has

just gone home and ‘he lives close by in Melite.’ Demosthenes[298] in

the speech against Konon says that he was walking in the agora near the

Leokorion when he met Ktesias, and Ktesias ‘passed on to Melite up hill.’

Finally, and for our purpose most important of all, Melite certainly

included the Pnyx hill. When Meton appears in the _Birds_[299] and is

asked who he is, and where he comes from, he answers

‘Meton am I, Greece knows me and Kolonos.’

The scholiast is concerned as to whether it could correctly be stated

that Meton was of the deme Kolonos, and _apropos_ of this, as to where a

certain astronomical monument to Meton had been erected. According to one

authority there was a sun-dial in the Pnyx in his memory. The scholiast

then adds, ‘Is not, some say, _the whole of the district in which the

Pnyx is included, the Kolonos called_ μίσθιος? So customary has it become

to call the part behind the Long Stoa, Kolonos, though it is not. _For

all that part is Melite_, and it is so described in the boundaries of the

city.’ The scholiast is, of course, primarily concerned with the name of

the hill dominating the later agora, and on which stands the so-called

Theseion (Fig. 46), but incidentally he tells that the deme Melite which

included that hill included also the Pnyx. Both points, it will later be

seen, are for us important.

Melite then is to the North-West and West of the Acropolis. Where is

Diomeia? Its dimensions again are not exactly known, but happily its

_direction_ is certain (Fig. 49)[300].

* * * * *

In the deme of Diomeia was a gymnasium and a sanctuary of Herakles, both

known as _Kynosarges_, and from Herodotus[301] we know in what direction

this Kynosarges lay. After Marathon the Persian fleet rounded Sunium with

a view to landing at Phalerum, then the port of Athens. Phalerum, of

course, lies almost due South of Athens. The Athenians hurry back from

Marathon with all speed to protect the city. They leave the Herakleion at

Marathon where they had encamped, and ‘take up their station in another

Herakleion, that in Kynosarges’—Kynosarges, and with it Diomeia, must

therefore lie in or command the direct road between Phalerum and Athens.

Pausanias[302] visited Kynosarges and referred to the story of ‘the white

dog’ immediately after the low-lying district of the ‘Gardens’ on the

Ilissus before he visited the stadium.

The Herakleion of Kynosarges has shown us the direction in which Diomeia

lay. Diomeia, we have seen, was colonized from Melite. We naturally ask,

Was the Herakleion one of the duplicate sanctuaries? In other words, Was

there a worship of Herakles in Melite?

In the _Frogs_—a play be it remembered performed at the Lenaia, a

festival held originally (p. 88) in the Limnae just below the hill

district of Melite—Xanthias is dressing up as Herakles; he says to

Dionysos, as he is putting on the lion-skin,

‘Now watch if Xanthias-Herakles turns faint,

Or shows the same presence of mind as you’;

and Dionysos answers

‘The real old jail-bird, him from Melite.’

The careful scholiast[303] notes it was not usual to speak of a god as

‘from’ a place. The Melitean Herakles would normally be described as

Herakles ‘in’ or ‘at Melite’; it was treating Herakles as a mere mortal

to say Herakles from Melite. But does not the ‘from’ possibly mark an

added joke? Are not the baggage and the donkey and the ‘from’ all put

in to parody the real ‘flitting’ of Herakles from Melite to Diomeia?

That flitting was already accomplished in the time of Aristophanes, for,

later on in the play[304], when Aeacus is beating Xanthias-Herakles, and

Xanthias utters an involuntary ‘whe-ew,’ Aeacus asks if he is hurt, and

Xanthias recovering himself says,

‘No; I was just thinking,

When my Diomean Feast would next be due.’

The same curious duplication of sanctuaries meets us in the accounts

of the initiation of Herakles. The scholiast on the _Frogs_[305] says,

‘Herakles was initiated in the Lesser Mysteries in Melite, a deme of

Attica,’ but by common consent[306] these Lesser Mysteries are held to

have taken place at Agrae on the Ilissos, and it is there, according

to Stephen[307] of Byzantium, that Herakles obtained initiation. In

Melite on or close to the Pnyx hill Pausanias[308] saw beyond the spring

‘temples, one built for Demeter and Kore, the other containing an image

of Triptolemos.’ Did the emigrants from Melite carry their cult down with

them to the mystic banks of the Ilissos[309], to Agrae ‘where,’ according

to Eustathius[310], they say ‘the Lesser Mysteries of Demeter which they

call “those in Agrae” are celebrated’?

* * * * *

Tradition, then, as to the initiation of Herakles was two-fold; he was

initiated in Melite, he was initiated on the banks of the Ilissos at

Agrae in Diomeia. We naturally ask, ‘Why was he initiated at all, and why

did his initiation attract so much attention?’ If he was a god it was

superfluous, if a pious mortal merely normal. The answer to this question

may give a clue to the cause of the shift of population from Melite to

Diomeia.

Herakles was initiated because he was an immigrant stranger. We have

seen (pp. 27 and 65) that in the 6th century B.C. he was at home on

the Acropolis itself; he appears on archaic pediments contending with

Triton and the Hydra and on vase-paintings his popularity precedes

that of his rival Theseus. Yet, none the less, he is a stranger, and

his formal reception as a guest was at various places in Attica matter

of old world tradition. In the _Lysis_ Ktesippos complains that the

boys’ lovers make for him the weary old boast, that to an ancestor of

his belonged the honour of the ‘reception of Herakles[311].’ Lysis

belonged to Aixone, a deme near Phalerum; and by way of the sea in all

probability Herakles had come to Athens. Orators, specially religious

orators, are less contemptuous. The initiation of Herakles was a telling

argument in the mouth of the cosmopolitan peace-loving politician. The

Torch-bearer, Kallias[312], in his speech to the Lacedaemonian allies

urges the familiar precedent. ‘It was right,’ he says, ‘for us not to

bear arms against each other since tradition says, your leader Herakles,

and your citizens, the Dioscuri, were the first strangers to whom our

ancestor Triptolemos showed the unutterable rites of Demeter and Kore.’

Plutarch[313], again, in his _Life of Theseus_ tells how the Tyndaridae

supported their claim to initiation by citing the analogous case of

Herakles. In order to be initiated, Herakles, as a stranger, had to be

adopted by a citizen called Pylios; the Tyndaridae, whose exploits were

supposed to have taken place at Aphidna, were adopted by Aphidnus. The

scene of the initiation of Herakles and the Dioscuri occurs on more than

one late red-figured vase[314].

The emphasis laid on the initiation of Herakles and the tradition that

he was admitted at the Lesser Mysteries mark the fact that he was a

stranger. It is possible to go a step further. Herakles was not merely

no true-born Athenian citizen, but an actual foreigner, an Oriental. It

is therefore no surprise to us to learn from the best of authorities

on Athenian ritual, Apollodorus[315], that ‘sacrifice was offered to

Herakles Alexikakos at Athens after a special and peculiar manner.’ It

would be out of place here to enter upon any detailed examination of the

Oriental elements in the worship of Herakles generally, but as regards

his worship at Athens, and especially in Melite[316], some points must be

noted.

Melite, all authorities seem to agree, is _Malta_[317], the place of

refuge. Diodorus[318] gives us a full description of the original

Melite-Malta and emphasizes, if emphasis were needed, its harbourage

and generally its maritime convenience, its wealth in arts and crafts

and manufactures. ‘This island is a colony of the Phenicians, it lay in

mid-ocean and had good harbour, hence when they extended their trade

to the western Ocean it served them as a refuge.’ Of another island of

refuge called Melite Strabo[319] tells us ‘the Korybantes removed to

Samothrace which was formerly called Melite.’ This Samothrace, according

to Diodorus[320], was called in ancient days _Saonnesos_, Safe-island,

which of course is merely a translation of its Semitic name. In this

_Saonnesos-Melite_ the inhabitants down to the time of Diodorus still in

_their sacrificial ceremonies_ used many words of a dialect peculiar to

them and, according to tradition, the island got its name in connection

with the story—always a Semitic note—of the Flood. The inhabitants set up

all round the island boundary stones ‘of salvation.’

In the light of _Melite_, ‘Refuge,’ we begin to understand why Herakles

was worshipped there under the special cultus title of _Alexikakos_,

‘Preserver-from-Evil[321].’ He is Alexikakos, not merely as the hero

of the Labours but by divine right; _as a god_ even if an immigrant.

Diodorus[322] records that while the Thebans and others did honour to

Herakles as a hero ‘the Athenians were the first to offer sacrifices to

him as a god’; their pious example influenced, he says, first the rest

of Greece and afterwards the whole habitable world. Strabo[323] hits the

mark when he says ‘as in other matters the Athenians were hospitable in

what concerned the gods.’

Herakles in Melite was then in all probability a stranger; as to Herakles

in Diomeia there is no shadow of doubt. Plutarch[324] begins his life

of Themistocles with a story that shows in striking fashion the limits

of the hospitality extended to Herakles as the typical stranger. ‘The

origin of Themistokles was too obscure to be a source of distinction.’

On his father’s side he was an Athenian, but on his mother’s some said

a Thracian, but Phanias stated that she was a Karian, and Neanthes that

she belonged to Halikarnassos. Anyhow he was what the Athenians accounted

base-born (νόθος). ‘The base-born youths subscribed to the “Kynosarges,”

the gymnasium of Herakles, outside the city gates, for Herakles, too,

was not a true-born god but was introduced by adoption inasmuch as his

mother was a mortal. Accordingly, Themistocles persuaded certain of

the true-born youths to go to Kynosarges and exercise there with him.’

Kynosarges, haunt of the base-born, outside the gates; there could be no

better evidence that its patron, Herakles, was a foreigner[325].

Themistocles has yet more evidence to yield us, and that of a curious

character. Themistocles, it will be remembered (p. 144), had a home in

Melite close to the barathron. Near to his home he founded a sanctuary

of Artemis ‘to whom he gave the title of Aristoboule[326].’ This was

among the many ways in which he annoyed the Athenians. The cause of the

annoyance, Plutarch thinks, was that he gave the title to commemorate

his good advice before the battle of Salamis. But was this the real

reason? Surely the dedication gave all glory to the goddess, not to

himself? It is a curious and, I think, significant fact that we know of

another Aristoboule, and she is a manifestly Semitic goddess. Porphyry,

in enumerating instances of human sacrifice, says[327] that in Rhodes

_on the 6th day of the month Metageitnion_, a man used to be sacrificed

to Kronos. The custom, which had obtained for a long time, had been

modified. A condemned criminal was kept alive till the feast of Kronos,

and at the time of the feast they led the man outside the city gates

opposite the image of Aristoboule, gave him wine to drink and slew

him. If Themistocles was trying ‘craftily,’ as Plutarch[328] says, to

affiliate a base-born to a true-born divinity, an Aristoboule to an

Artemis, small wonder if the Athenians were annoyed. Perhaps the ‘Karian’

mother counted for something in the attempt.

* * * * *

The festival of Aristoboule in Rhodes, the grim Semitic Kronia, fell—and

the fact is surely significant—in the month Metageitnion. Certain

Herakleia, probably, though not quite certainly[329], the Herakleia in

Kynosarges, fell in the same month; and of course the actual ceremonial

of the Metageitnia mentioned by Plutarch. To this Metageitnia we now

return. We have seen that the population of Melite, the worshippers of

Herakles[330], were probably foreigners, and that at one time there was

a shift of these Herakles worshippers from Melite to Diomeia. Is it not

possible that the two facts are connected? Plutarch leaves us in mid-air

as to the time and cause of the _metastasis_, but be it observed the

shift is from Melite, a district outside the old burgh, to Diomeia, a

district, at least in part, outside the new. May it not have been felt

when the new circuit-wall of Themistocles was complete that it comprised

too many foreigners? If the shift took place soon after the building

of the new fortifications the event would still be remembered at the

performance (406 B.C.) of the _Frogs_.

* * * * *

At whatever date the _metastasis_ took place thus much is clear. It

was no chance incidental flitting of a few scattered families, but a

substantial shift of population, and it adequately accounts for the

curious duplication of sanctuaries. The foreign character of one element

in that population and of the cult they carried with them has been

emphasized because it provides at least a possible explanation of the

shift, but it must not for a moment be supposed that all the sanctuaries

and sanctities were necessarily foreign. We may conclude this portion of

the evidence by noting an instance of mythological duplication specially

convincing because wholly incidental and undesigned, the legend of Boreas

and Oreithyia.

Pausanias[331] tells us that ‘the Ilissus is the river where Oreithyia is

said to have been playing when she was carried off by Boreas the North

wind.’ We are a little surprised; what was the king’s daughter doing

playing down by the Ilissus far from her father’s citadel, and was not

the Ilissus rather a sheltered spot for the North wind? Plato[332] in the

_Phaedrus_, as Sokrates and Phaedrus are lying under the ‘tallest plane

tree’ on the bank of the Ilissus, makes Phaedrus say ‘I should like to

know whether the place is not somewhere here where Boreas is said to have

carried off Oreithyia;’ Sokrates says it is not far, about a quarter of a

mile off, and that there is some sort of an altar there—and adds ‘there

is a discrepancy however about the spot; according to another version of

the story she was taken from the Areopagos and not from this place.’

We pass to our fourth source of error.

4. _Confusion as to Kallirrhoë and Enneakrounos._

Misunderstanding as regards the duplicated sanctuaries was explicable,

even natural, but the downward road once embarked on leads to a deeper

depth. Those who believe that Thucydides is concerned to prove that

the ancient city lay Southwards have to find for the Fair-Fount and

Nine-Spouts of Thucydides a home other than the rock of the Pnyx; they

place the ancient city well, whence the king’s daughters drew their

water, outside, not only of the walls of Themistocles, but even of the

later and wider enclosure of Hadrian; they place it on the Ilissus, at a

distance of over half-a-mile as the crow flies from the citadel gate. If

the king’s daughters really ventured out there we must not, considering

the convention of the times, too severely blame the attacks of the rude

Pelasgians. And assuredly, if any one will try the experiment of carrying

a bucket of water from Kallirrhoë on the Ilissus to the top of the

Acropolis on a hot summer’s day, he will imagine those king’s daughters

as cast in more than mortal mould.

In the days when the Kallirrhoë of Thucydides could be placed on the

Ilissus the conception of Athens formed by scholars was of an Athens in

the days of Pericles. To speak of ancient Athens as a ‘Mycenaean’ city

would then have been unmeaning, if not positively insulting. As soon as

we realise the conditions of a Pelasgian burgh, with its king and his

immediate dependents massed upon and close up to the citadel, we know

that the citadel-well _must_ be close at hand—the Fair-Fount of the Pnyx

is already full far.

As to the Fair-Fount (Kallirrhoë) on the Ilissus, there has been and

still prevails much confusion. A Kallirrhoë there certainly is on the

Ilissus; the women of Athens wash their clothes there to-day[333], and

the existence of this Kallirrhoë Prof. Dörpfeld has never denied. Nay, he

expressly points out that even in the days of Thucydides the Kallirrhoë

of the Pnyx had already lost its name, and needs to be recalled to his

readers. If, as has been seen, many sanctuaries were transferred and

names duplicated there is nothing (1) impossible nor (2) injurious to

our theory, if the new Kallirrhoë was sometimes, like its old archetype,

called Enneakrounos. Though as a matter of fact this seems not to have

been the case.

* * * * *

Two ancient authorities, and two only, appear at first sight definitely

to place the Enneakrounos on the Ilissus. These must be examined in

detail. First, the _Etymologicum Magnum_[334], under the heading

_Enneakrounos_, says, ‘a fountain at Athens by the Ilissus, which was

formerly Kallirrhoë, to which they go to fetch the water for baths for

brides.’ Unquestionably, whoever wrote this thought the Enneakrounos

was on the Ilissus. But then by the time the _Etymologicum Magnum_ was

compiled the old Kallirrhoë at the Pnyx was long forgotten. The statement

looks as if it had come originally from Thucydides[335], and as if the

topographical ‘by the Ilissus’ had been added by some ambitious but

ignorant compiler.

Against this statement of the _Etymologicum Magnum_, for what it is

worth, we may set the statement of another lexicographer[336]. Explaining

the expression ‘Wedding Baths,’ he says, ‘the baths brought from a

fountain from the agora.’ The wildest topographer has never placed the

agora by the Ilissus, though it might go there with quite as good reason

as the ancient city well.

* * * * *

A second ancient literary authority seems at first sight indisputably to

place the Enneakrounos near to the temple of Zeus Olympios and, if there,

then, as a necessary consequence, on the Ilissus. In the preface to a

treatise by Hierocles[337] on _Veterinary Medicine_ there occurs, apropos

of the age to which horses and mules live, the following statement:

‘Tarantinos narrates that the Athenians _when they were building the

temple of Zeus near Enneakrounos_ passed a decree that all the beasts of

burden should be driven in from Attica to the town.’ This seems perfectly

definite and circumstantial, and the passage has been eagerly seized

on by all those who wished to prove that the Enneakrounos was on the

Ilissus. Quite naturally, but wait a moment. It is essential that the

passage be read to the end. Tarantinos goes on, ‘and a certain husbandman

through fear of this decree drove in an aged mule in its eightieth year.

But the people out of respect for its age enacted that the mule was to

be leader of all the beasts of burden employed in the building of the

temple, it was to walk in front unyoked and unspurred, and that none of

the wheat-merchants or barley-merchants were to drive it away from their

houses or prevent it from browsing.’

The aged mule story is charming; we can scarcely hear it too often, but

somehow it _is_ oddly familiar; have we not heard it before in slightly

different form? Yes; surely it is the story Plutarch[338] tells when he

is recounting the kindness of Cato to his beasts. ‘A good man will take

care of his horses and dogs, not only while they are young, but when

they are old and past service. Thus the people of Athens, _when they

were building the Hecatompedon_ set at liberty those mules which they

thought had worked hardest and let them go free, and one of them, it is

said, afterwards came of her own accord back to the works and trotted

by the side of the beasts who were drawing the waggons and led them on

and seemed to be exhorting and encouraging them. And the people passed a

vote that she should be entertained at the public expense to the day of

her death.’ The same story is told by Aelian[339] of the time ‘_when the

Athenians were building the Parthenon_,’ and he quotes as his authority

Aristotle. It is Aristotle[340] who has set the whole uncertainty going.

He tells the story of the time ‘when at Athens _they were building the

temple_.’

By the ‘temple’ Aelian and Plutarch are almost certainly right in

understanding the Parthenon. If they are right, we can infer that

Tarantinos, an author whose date is unknown, and whom we have no ground

for regarding as an authority on Athenian topography, has made at any

rate one mistake, when he identifies ‘the temple’ with the great temple

of his own day, the temple ‘of Zeus.’ Tarantinos is, presumably, taking

the story from Aristotle. If so, it is clear that, besides wrongly

identifying ‘the temple,’ he supposed that the Enneakrounos, which

on this hypothesis he for the first time imports into the story, was

identical with the Kallirrhoë of the Ilissos[341]. But what is the value

of his evidence? His supporters may fairly be challenged to produce the

credentials of a witness whose only title to be regarded as an authority

is an identification almost certainly wrong. There is nothing to rebut

the simple supposition that, like the author of the _Etymologicum

Magnum_, he is merely confusing the two Kallirrhoës[342].

Finally, supposing for a moment that the passage of Thucydides leaves

us in doubt as to the site of the Enneakrounos, naturally our next step

would be to ask what does our next best authority, Pausanias, say?

Pausanias is a topographer by profession, surely we shall learn from him

where he saw the well-house. Pausanias[343] after seeing the statues of

Harmodios and Aristogeiton ‘not far from’ the temple of Ares, passes

straight on to a small group of monuments which he links together more

or less clearly; they are the Odeion; near to it the Enneakrounos;

above or beyond this the temples of Demeter and Kore; a little further

on the temple of Eukleia. It is quite true that he links the Odeion by

no connecting particle, but that is his frequent practice when passing

straight from one monument to another.

The uninstructed reader in his simplicity would naturally think that,

as Pausanias passes straight from the statues of the Tyrant Slayers

to the Odeion, the two lay somewhere not far apart, and so they did.

The Odeion in the days of Pausanias would almost certainly be near

the site of the ancient orchestra, where still are faint remains of

a semi-circular building (Fig. 46). Anyhow it stood close to the

Areopagos. But this is too simple and natural. Pausanias we are told,

here and nowhere else, abruptly breaks his narrative of the buildings

in the Kerameikos, and with no apparent reason and no hint in the text,

flies off for nearly half-a-mile and plants his reader on the banks

of the Ilissus,—a district, be it noted, that he later describes in

detail,—whence he shortly returns again without warning and finishes

his account of the Kerameikos. In a word we are presented with what is

known as the ‘Enneakrounos Episode.’ Various causes are suggested for the

‘Episode’; the leaves of the MS. got mixed, or Pausanias was staying with

friends near the Ilissus, and went home to lunch. The real cause of the

‘Episode’ is that Thucydides has been misunderstood, and that the late

compiler of the _Etymologicum Magnum_ has blundered. Pausanias[344] saw

the Odeion in the neighbourhood of the old orchestra at the south-west

of the Areopagos, the Enneakrounos near to it by the Pnyx rock, the

temples of Demeter and Kore ‘above it’ _on_ the Pnyx rock where were the

Thesmophorion[345] and the temple of Eukleia ‘not far off’; his course of

sight-seeing was here as elsewhere orderly and undisturbed.

* * * * *

Pausanias is seen to be at one with Thucydides and, thanks to Prof.

Dörpfeld, the evidence of both has been confirmed by excavation; the

sources of error and confusion in late authors, lexicographers and modern

archaeologists have come to light. Surely now at last the ‘Enneakrounos

Episode’ may be laid to sleep in peace.

FOOTNOTES

[1] Herod. VII. 140.

[2] Thucyd. II. 14 χαλεπῶς δὲ αὐτοῖς, διὰ τὸ ἀεὶ εἰωθέναι τοὺς πολλοὺς ἐν

τοῖς ἀγροῖς διαιτᾶσθαι, ἡ ἀνάστασις ἐγίγνετο.

[3] Thucyd. I. 5, 10.

[4] Thucyd. II. 15 καὶ ξυνοίκια ἐξ ἐκείνου Ἀθηναῖοι ἔτι καὶ νῦν τῇ θεῷ

ἑορτὴν δημοτελῆ ποιοῦσι.

[5] Thucyd. II. 15 τὸ δὲ πρὸ τούτου ἡ ἀκρόπολις ἡ νῦν οὖσα πόλις ἦν καὶ

τὸ ὑπ’ αὐτὴν πρὸς νότον μάλιστα τετραμμένον· τεκμήριον δέ. τὰ γὰρ ἱερὰ ἐν

αὐτῇ τῇ ἀκροπόλει καὶ ἄλλων θεῶν ἐστί, καὶ τὰ ἔξω πρὸς τοῦτο τὸ μέρος τῆς

πόλεως μᾶλλον ἵδρυται, τό τε τοῦ Διὸς τοῦ Ὀλυμπίου καὶ τὸ Πύθιον καὶ τὸ

τῆς Γῆς καὶ τὸ ἐν Λίμναις Διονύσου (ᾧ τὰ ἀρχαιότερα Διονύσια τῇ δωδεκάτῃ

ποιεῖται ἐν μηνὶ Ἀνθεστηριῶνι) ὥσπερ καὶ οἱ ἀπ’ Ἀθηναίων Ἴωνες ἔτι καὶ

νῦν νομίζουσιν, ἵδρυται δὲ καὶ ἄλλα ἱερὰ ταύτῃ ἀρχαῖα. καὶ τῇ κρήνῃ τῇ

νῦν μὲν τῶν τυράννων οὕτω σκευασάντων Ἐννεακρούνῳ καλουμένῃ, τὸ δὲ πάλαι

φανερῶν τῶν πηγῶν οὐσῶν Καλλιῤῥόῃ ὠνομασμένῃ—ἐκείνῃ τε ἐγγὺς οὔσῃ τὰ

πλείστου ἄξια ἐχρῶντο, καὶ νῦν ἔτι ἀπὸ τοῦ ἀρχαίου πρό τε γαμικῶν καὶ ἐς

ἄλλα τῶν ἱερῶν νομίζεται τῷ ὕδατι χρῆσθαι. καλεῖται δὲ διὰ τὴν παλαιὰν

ταύτῃ κατοίκησιν καὶ ἡ ἀκρόπολις μέχρι τοῦδε ἔτι ὑπ’ Ἀθηναίων πόλις.

[6] I keep the MS. reading; see Critical Note.

[7] See Dr A. W. Verrall, _The Site of Primitive Athens. Thucydides

II. 15 and recent explorations_, _Class. Rev._ June 1900, p. 274. In the

discussion of the actual text, I have throughout followed Dr Verrall.

[8] Plat. _Kritias_ 112.

[9] Antigonos, _Hist. Mirab._ 12.

[10] W. Dörpfeld, “Ueber die Ausgrabungen auf der Akropolis,” _Athen.

Mitt._ XI. 1886, p. 162.

[11] ap. Suidam, _s.v._ Ἄπεδα el. Ἠπέδιζον: ἄπεδα, τὰ ἰσόπεδα. Κλείδημος

‘καὶ ἠπέδιζον τὴν ἀκρόπολιν, περιέβαλλον δὲ ἐννεάπυλον τὸ Πελασγικόν.’

[12] Dörpfeld, “Die Propylaeen,” _A. Mitt._ X. 1885, p. 139 and see the

plan of the Propylaea in my _Myth. and Mon. Anc. Athens_, p. 352.

[13] Dörpfeld, ‘Ausgrabungen auf der Akropolis,’ _A. Mitt._ XI. 1896, p.

167.

[14] Dr Kabbadias, _Fouilles de l’Acropole_, 1886, Pl. I. and descriptive

text.

[15] The discussion and interpretation of these figures is reserved for

p. 51.

[16] Ἐφήμερις Ἀρχαιολογική, 1866, p. 78.

[17] _Eph. Arch._ 1887, pl. 4.

[18] _Eph. Arch._ 1887, pl. 8.

[19] Dörpfeld, ‘Die Zeit des älteren Parthenon,’ _A. Mitt._ 1902, p. 410.

[20] _A. Mitt._ 3892, p. 158, pl. VIII. and IX.

[21] Plut. _Vit. Cim._ 13.

[22] Unfortunately at the actual time of the excavations the chronology

of the various retaining walls was not clearly evident and the precise

place where many of the fragments excavated were found was not noted with

adequate precision.

[23] _A. Mitt._ XXVII. 1902, p. 398, Fig. 5.

[24] F. Hauser, _Strena Helbigiana_, p. 115. The reverse was first

correctly explained thro’ the identification of the σταφύλη by Dr O.

Rossbach, ‘Verschollene Sagen und Kulten,’ _Neue Jahrbücher f. Kl.

Altertumswissenschaft_, 1901, p. 390.

[25] _Il._ II. 765 ... ἵπποι σταφύλῃ ἐπὶ νῶτον ἔϊσαι.

[26] See Roscher, _Lex._ _s.v._

[27] Paus. II. 25. 7.

[28] Paus. II. 16. 5.

[29] Paus. IX. 5. 6.

[30] Apoll. Rhod. I. 736.

[31] Strabo, VIII. 21 § 379. See my _Prolegomena_, p. 609.

[32] _Od._ XI. 594. Mr Salomon Reinach in his “Sisyphe aux enfers et

quelques autres damnés,” _Rev. Arch._ 1903, has established beyond doubt

the true interpretation of the stone of Sisyphos.

[33] Paus. I. 28. 3.

[34] Dr Rendel Harris, _The Dioscuri_, p. 8.

[35] Plin. _Nat. Hist._ VII. 57.

[36] For _Euryalos_ see _Eph. Arch._ 1885, Taf. v. 2 and 3. For

_Hyperbios_, _Mon. d. Inst._ VI. and VII.

[37] Herod. VI. 137 μισθὸν τοῦ τείχεος τοῦ περὶ τὴν ἀκρόπολίν ποτε

ἐληλαμένου.

[38] Herod. V. 64 ἐπολιόρκεε τοὺς τυράννους ἀπεργμένους ἐν τῷ Πελασγικῷ

τείχει. All the MSS. except Z have Πελασγικῷ: Z has been corrected to

Πελα_ρ_γικῷ.

[39] _C.I.A._ IV. 2. 27. 6 ... ἐν τῷ Πελαργικῷ ... ἐκ τοῦ Πελαργικοῦ.

[40] In the best MS. (Laur. C).

[41] For details of this temple, see my _Myth. and Mon. Anc. Athens_, p.

496. For its ground-plan, see below p. 40, Fig. 18.

[42] Wiegand-Schrader-Dörpfeld, _Poros-Architektur der Akropolis_. For

any realization of pre-Periclean architecture a study of the coloured

plates of this work is essential.

[43] Typhon and Tritons appear together on the throne of Apollo at

Amyclae. The artistic motives of this Ionian work are largely Oriental.

The conjunction of Typhon and the Tritons is not, I think, a mere

decorative chance. Attention has not, I think, been called, in connection

with this pediment, to the fact that in Plutarch’s _Isis and Osiris_

(XXXII.) Typhon _is_ the sea into which the Nile flows (Τυφῶνα δὲ τὴν

θάλασσαν, εἰς ἣν ὁ Νεῖλος ἐμπίπτων ἀφανίζεται). The Egyptian inspiration

of the _Isis and Osiris_ no one will deny, and on this Egyptianized

pediment with its lotus-flowers the Egyptian sea-god Typhon is well in

place. His name is doubtless, as Muss Arnolt _Semitic Words in Greek and

Latin_, p. 59 points out, connected with Heb. ‎‏צָפוֹן‏‎ hidden, dark,

northern. The sea was north of Egypt.

[44] Ar. _Av._ 1139

ἕτεροι δ’ ἐπλινθοποίουν πελαργοὶ μύριοι.

[45] Eur. _Ion_ 154, trans. by Dr Verrall.

[46] See Lechat, _Au Musée de l’Acropole d’Athènes_, p. 215.

[47] Any learned blunderer might write Πελα_σ_γικόν for Πελα_ρ_γικόν, but

if Πελα_σ_γικόν were the original form it would be little likely to be

changed to Πελα_ρ_γικόν.

[48] Thucyd. II. 17 τό τε Πελαργικὸν καλούμενον τὸ ὑπὸ τὴν ἀκρόπολιν, ὃ

καὶ ἐπάρατόν τε ἦν μὴ οἰκεῖν καί τι καὶ Πυθικοῦ μαντείου ἀκροτελεύτιον

τοιόνδε διεκώλυε, λέγον ὡς τὸ Πελαργικὸν ἀργὸν ἄμεινον, ὅμως ὑπὸ τῆς

παραχρῆμα ἀνάγκης ἐξῳκήθη. Thucydides calls ‘τὸ Πελαργικὸν ἀργὸν ἀμείνον’

a final hemistich. Mr A. B. Cook kindly points out to me that it is in

fact a complete line of the ancient metrical form preceding the hexameter

and known as _paroimiac_.

[49] καὶ τὸ ὑπ’ αὐτὴν μάλιστα πρὸς νότον τετραμμένον.

[50] Lucian, _Piscator_, 46.

[51] _C.I.A._ IV. 2. 27. 6.

[52] Poll. _On._ VIII. 101.

[53] Dörpfeld, ‘Die Propyläen 1 und 2,’ _A. Mitt._ X. 1885, pp. 38 and

131 and see my _Mon. and Myth. Ancient Athens_, p. 353.

[54] Dörpfeld, _A. Mitt._ XXVII. 1902, p. 405.

[55] The number of these gates is of course purely conjectural. The

sketch in Fig. 15 which I owe to the kindness of Prof. Dörpfeld gives

five only on the western slope. The line of the walls HJK is suggested by

remains of the 6th century B.C. which probably occupy the site of still

earlier Pelasgic fortifications (see p. 35 note 2). Of the remaining

gates one would probably be near where the Asklepieion was later built

and one or more on the north slope.

[56] Lucian, _Bis Accus._ 9 μικρὸν ὑπὲρ τοῦ Πελασγικοῦ.

[57] Herod. VIII. 52.

[58] Lucian, _Piscator_ 42.

[59] See _Mon. and Myth. Ancient Athens_, p. 299.

[60] _Op. cit._ p. 152.

[61] Polem. ap. Schol. _Oed. Col._ 489 καθάπερ Πολέμων ἐν τοῖς πρὸς

Ἐρατοσθένην φησίν, οὕτω ... κριὸν Ἡσύχῳ ἱερὸν ἥρω ... οὗ τὸ ἱερόν ἐστι

παρὰ τὸ Κυλώνειον, ἐκτὸς τῶν ἐννέα πυλῶν. The MS. has Κυδώνιον, the

emendation, which seems certain, is due to C. O. Mueller.

[62] Plut. _Vit. Solon._ XII. and Thucyd. I. 126.

[63] For these details about the date of the various walls I am indebted

to Professor Dörpfeld. Dr F. Noack holds that the nine-gated Pelargikon

was not of Mycenaean date but was built by Peisistratos, the earlier

Pelargikon being a much simpler structure. Prof. Dörpfeld also holds

that there was no nine-gated Pelargikon in Mycenaean days, but he

believes that the Peisistratids only strengthened an already existing

fortification, building perhaps some additional gates. The Enneapylon

would then have its contemporary analogy in the Enneakrounos. See F.

Noack, _Arne_, _A. Mitt._ 1894, p. 418.

[64] A protest was raised against the building of the Asklepieion after

it was begun; possibly this was because of its encroachment on the

Pelargikon. See A. Koerte, _A. Mitt._ 1896, pp. 318-331.

[65] See Critical Note.

[66] See throughout Prof. Dörpfeld, ‘Der ursprüngliche Plan des

Erechtheion,’ _A. Mitt._ 1904, p. 101, Taf. VI.

[67] See Dörpfeld, _A. Mitt._ XXVIII. 1903, p. 468.

[68] ο]ντος Αθηνων Κεκροπος, ἐτη ΧΗΗΔ.

[69] Thucyd. II. 15.

[70] Apollod. III. 14.

[71] Herod. VIII. 44.

[72] Harp. _in voc._; Poll. _On._ IX. 109.

[73] Paus. I. 3. 6.

[74] Hom. _Il._ II. 547 δῆμον Ἐρεχθῆος μεγαλητόρος.

[75] Aristoph. _Vesp._ 438 ὧ Κέκροψ ἥρως ἄναξ τὰ πρὸς ποδῶν δρακοντίδη.

[76] Tzetzes, _Chil._ V. 19.

[77] Only once so far as I know is Kekrops definitely called a snake, in

the _Hekale_ of Callimachus; speaking of the decision in favour of Athene

as against Poseidon he says (V. 9)

τήν ῥα νέον ψήφῳ (τ)ε Διὸς δύο καὶ δέκα τ’ ἄλλων

ἀθανάτων ὄφιός τε κατέλλαβε μαρτυρίῃσιν.

See Gomperz, _Rainer Papyrus_ VI. 1897, p. 9.

[78] Prof. Dörpfeld kindly suggests to me that the type of the Cretan

Snake-Goddess recently brought to light by Dr Evans and Miss Boyd

may have had its influence on the goddess of Athens. I agree (see my

_Prolegomena_, p. 307 note 3) and hope to return to this question on

another occasion.

[79] Herod. VIII. 41. The snake was of course at first imaginary and

Herodotus seems to doubt its existence.

[80] Paus. I. 24. 7.

[81] Hesiod, ap. Strab. IX. 9. § 393.

[82] Soph. _Philoct._ 1327.

[83] Paus. VI. 20. 2-4.

[84] Clem. Al. _Protr._ III. 45, p. 39.

[85] Theod. _Graec. affect. cur._ VIII. 30, p. 908 καὶ γὰρ Ἀθήνησιν, ὡς

Ἀντίοχος ἐν τῇ ἐνάτῃ γέγραφεν ἱστορίᾳ ἄνω γε ἐν τῇ ἀκροπόλει Κέκροπός

ἐστι τάφος παρὰ τὴν Πολιοῦχον αὐτήν.

[86] Δελτ. Αρχ. 1889, p. 10, fig. No. 3 ἐν τῷ τοῦ Κέκροπος ἱε[ρῷ.

[87] _C.I.A._ III. 1276 ἱε[ρ]εὺς Κέκρο[π]ος Ἀρίστων Σωσιστράτου Ἀθμονεύς.

[88] Brit. Mus. I. xxxv.; _C.I.A._ I. 322. The inscription is engraved on

two slabs of Pentelic marble.

[89] _loc. cit._ line 83

ἐπὶ τε͂ι προστάσει τε͂ι πρὸς το͂[ι]

Κεκροπίοι ἔδει

τὸς λίθος τὸς ὀροφιαίος τὸς

ἐπὶ το͂ν κορο͂ν ...

[90] For the name Caryatid as explained by Vitruvius see my _Mon. and

Myth. Anc. Athens_, p. 489.

[91] Dörpfeld, ‘Der ursprüngliche Plan des Erechtheion,’ _A. Mitt._ XXIX.

p. 104, 1904.

[92] Wiegand, _Die archäische Poros-Architektur der Akropolis zu Athen_

(1904), p. 106; and see also M. H. Lechat, _La sculpture Attique avant

Pheidias_, p. 53.

[93] Herod. VII. 41 λέγουσι Ἀθηναῖοι ὄφιν μέγαν φύλακα τῆς ἀκροπόλιος

ἐνδιαιτᾶσθαι ἐν τῷ ἱρῷ.

[94] Eur. _Ion_ 21-26, trans. Dr Verrall.

[95] Brit. Mus. Cat. E 418. See my _Myth. and Mon. Anc. Athens_, p.

xxxi. Two snakes also appear as Dr Wiegand _op. cit._ points out in the

Atthis attributed to Amelesagoras; see Westermann _Paradoxogr._ XII.

63 Ἀμελησαγόρας δὲ ὁ Ἀθηναῖος ὁ τὴν Ἀτθίδα συγγράφων ... φησὶ τὰς δὲ

Κέκροπος θυγατέρας τὰς δύω Ἄγραυλον καὶ Πάνδροσον τὴν κίστην ἀνοῖξαι καὶ

ἰδεῖν δράκοντας δύω περὶ τὸν Ἐριχθόνιον. Hesychius _s.v._ οἰκουρὸς ὄφις

says ... οἱ μὲν ἕνα φασὶν οἳ δὲ δύο ἐν τῷ ἱερῷ τοῦ Ἐρεχθέως.

[96] _C.I.A._ I. 322, line 44

το͂ν κιόνον το͂ν ἐπὶ τὸ τοίχο

τὸ πρὸς τὸ Πανδροσείο,

and in _C.I.A._ IV. 321, III. line 32

τὰ μετακιόνια τέτταρα ὄντα τὰ πρὸς τοῦ Πανδροσείου.

[97] Δελτ. Αρχ. 1888, p. 87, fig. 1 B, lines 27 and 41

ὁ πρὸς τοῦ Πανδροσείου.

[98] P. I. 27. 2 τῷ ναῷ δὲ τῆς Ἀθηνᾶς Πανδρόσου ναὸς συνεχής ἐστι.

[99] Paus. I. 18. 2. For the vase-paintings that illustrate the story see

my _Myth. and Mon. Anc. Athens_, p. xxiii.

[100] Paus. I. 21. 4 see _Myth. and Mon. Anc. Athens_, p. 299.

[101] P. I. 22. 5.

[102] P. I. 18. 2.

[103] See my ‘Mythological Studies—the three daughters of Kekrops,’

_Journ. Hell. Soc._ XII. p. 351, 1891.

[104] For a fuller discussion of the Arrephoria in relation to the

Thesmophoria, see my _Prolegomena_, p. 131; and for the child in the

mystery liknon, p. 525.

[105] _C.I.A._ II. 481, 58.

[106] _s.v._ ἐπίβοιον.

[107] _C.I.A._ I. 322 (Brit. Mus. I. 35. 571), l. 83 ἐπὶ τε͂ι προστάσει

τε͂ι πρὸς το͂[ι] Κεκροπίοι ἔδει τὸς λίθος τὸς ὀροφιαίος τὸς ἐπὶ το͂ν

κορο͂ν ἐπεργάσασθαι ἄνοθεν, see p. 46.

[108] _Anth. Pal._ VI. 280

τάς τε κόρας Λιμνᾶτι Κόρα κόρα, ὡς ἐπιεικὲς

ἄνθετο·

see my _Prolegomena_, p. 301.

[109] _C.I.A._ I. 141 κορὴ χρυσῆ ἐπὶ στήλης, _v._ Lolling, _Cat. des

inscr. de l’Acropole_, No. 267 τήνδε κόρην ἀνέθηκεν ἀπαρχήν.

[110] _Jahrbuch d. Inst._ II. 1887, p. 219.

[111] _C.I.A._ IV. suppl. 373 and _Eph. Arch._ 1886, p. 81, l. 6.

[112] Paus. II. 5. 1, III. 15. 10.

[113] Paus. III. 21. 10.

[114] Paus. I. 26. 5.

[115] Paus. VIII. 2. 3.

[116] Athen. XIII. 2. § 555 and Tzetzes, _Chil._ V. 19. v. 650.

[117] S. Aug. _de civitat. Dei_, 18. 9 ut nullus nascentium maternum

nomen acciperet.

[118] Apollod. III. 14. 2 μετὰ δὲ τοῦτον ἧκεν Ἀθηνᾶ, καὶ ποιησαμένη

τῆς καταλήψεως Κέκροπα μάρτυρα ἐφύτευσεν ἐλαίαν ἣ νῦν ἐν τῷ Πανδροσείῳ

δείκνυται.

[119] Herod. VIII. 55.

[120] Hesych. Fig. 146 ἀστὴ ἐλαία, ἡ ἐν ἀκροπόλει ἡ καλουμένη παγκύφος

διὰ χθαμαλότητα.

[121] For full discussion of the fragments see Dr Th. Wiegand, _Die

archäische Poros-Architektur der Akropolis zu Athen_, p. 97; _Das älteste

Erechtheion und der heilige Oelbaum_, Taf. XIV. on which the restoration

in Fig. 20 is based. The door really at the _end_ of the building is,

perhaps by a not uncommon convention, brought into view at the _side_.

Cf. the temple of Janus on a coin of Nero.

[122] Unfortunately the site of the ‘sea’ has never been systematically

excavated and examined. Professor Dörpfeld tells me that the cistern now

visible is of mediaeval date. Until the mediaeval masonry is removed the

precise character of the ‘sea’ cannot be determined. There was certainly

no _spring_, the geological character of the Acropolis plateau forbids

that, but a _well_ may exist.

[123] Paus. I. 26. 5 ταῦτα δὲ λέγεται Ποσειδῶνι μαρτύρια ἐς τὴν

ἀμφισβήτησιν τῆς χώρας φανῆναι.

[124] Apollod. III. 14. 1.

[125] Paus. I. 26. 5. The sea well at Caria was sacred to a foreign god

called Osogoa, see Paus. VIII. 10. 4. It is worth noting that Semitic

gods have ‘seas’ in their sanctuaries; Solomon’s temple had a brazen

‘sea’ and Marduk at Babylon had a _tamtu_ or sea, and curiously enough it

was associated with the great serpent. See King, _Babylonian Religion_,

p. 105.

[126] Ovid _Fasti_, II. 667

Nunc quoque, se supra ne quid nisi sidera cernat

Exiguum templi tecta foramen habent.

[127] Serv. _ad Aen._ IX. 448.

[128] Varro _L. L._ V. 66.

[129] Vitr. I. 2. 5.

[130] Paus. V. 14. 10.

[131] _Od._ VII. 80-81, trans. Butcher and Lang.

[132] _Il._ II. 546.

[133] Herod. V. 82.

[134] For Poseidon as the Tory-god I am indebted to Mr R. A. Neil’s

edition of the _Knights_; see lines 144 and 551.

[135] Paus. I. 26. 5.

[136] _s.v._ Ἐρέχθευς, but the scholiast in Lycophron, _Al._ 431, says

Ἐρέχθευς ὁ Ζεὺς ἐν Ἀθήναις καὶ ἐν Ἀρκαδίᾳ τιμᾶται; see Mr A. B. Cook,

_Classical Review_, 1904, p. 85.

[137] Apollod. III. 15. 1.

[138] _Vit. X. Orat._ p. 843ᵉ.

[139] Thucyd. II. 2.

[140] Paus. II. 17. 3. For the whole subject of the importance of these

priestly genealogies, see Professor Ridgeway, _Early Age of Greece_, p.

102.

[141] Aristoph. _Eq._ 551. See Mr R. A. Neil, _ad loc._

[142] Apollod. III. 15. 1. See _supra_, p. 62.

[143] Herod. II. 50. See R. Brown, _Poseidon_, 1872, p. 66.

[144] Herod. IV. 188-189.

[145] See Prof. Ridgeway, _The Early Age of Greece_, p. 226.

[146] Herod. I. 59. To the question of the origin and development of the

cult of Athena and to the examination of certain Oriental factors in it I

hope to return on another occasion.

[147] _Class. Rev._ 1900, XIV. p. 279.

[148] Prof. Dörpfeld draws attention (_Rhein. Mus._ LI. p. 134) to the

analogous case of Torone, which Thucydides (IV. 110) describes thus:

οὔσης τῆς πόλεως πρὸς λόφον—‘was nach dem Zusammenhang nicht _nach dem

Hügel hin_ sondern nur _an dem Hügel hinauf_ bedeutet.’ But it must

carefully be noted that as Dr Verrall (_Class. Rev._ 1900, p. 278)

observes, the notion of _ascent_ is given not by πρός but by λόφον. The

analogy is one of fact, not of the verbal description of that fact.

[149] Paus. I. 3. 4.

[150] For details of this Olympieion, see my _Myth. and Mon. Anc.

Athens_, p. 189.

[151] Eur. _Ion_, 283.

[152] Eur. _Ion_, 7 ff.

[153] Strabo IX. 2 § 404 ἐτήρουν δ’ ἐπὶ τρεῖς μῆνας, καθ’ ἕκαστον μῆνα

ἐπὶ τρεῖς ἡμέρας καὶ νύκτας ἀπὸ τῆς ἐσχάρας τοῦ Ἀστραπαίου Διός· ἔστι δ’

αὕτη ἐν τῷ τείχει μεταξὺ τοῦ Πυθίου καὶ τοῦ Ὀλυμπίου.

[154] Paus. I. 28. 4.

[155] Philostr. _Vit. Soph._ II. 5, p. 550 ἐκ Κεραμεικοῦ δὲ ἄρασαν χιλίᾳ

κώπῃ ἀφεῖναι ἐπὶ τὸ Ἐλευσίνιον καὶ περιβαλοῦσαν αὐτὸ παραμεῖψαι τὸ

Πελασγικὸν, κομιζομένην τε παρὰ τὸ Πύθιον ἐλθεῖν οἷ νῦν ὥρμισται.

[156] Paus. I. 29. 1.

[157] _loc. cit. supra._ Between the words νομίζουσι and ὡς πεμφθείη we

must mentally supply ἐνταῦθα καὶ τοῦ Πανὸς ἱερόν, φασὶ δὲ, or words to

that effect.

[158] The ‘Valerian’ wall was probably the work of Antonio Acciajoli. See

Dr Judeich, _Topographie von Athen_, p. 103, note 6.

[159] For a full account of Dr Kabbadias’s excavations from which the

above particulars are taken see _Ephemeris Archäologike_, 1897, 1-32 and

87-92, pl. I.-IV. and for _résumé_ in French _Bull. de Corr. Hell._ XX.

382 ff., also _American Journal of Arch._ 1897, p. 348 and 1898, p. 311.

[160] Ἐφ. Ἀρχ. 1897, p. 8, pl. 4 Ἀγαθὴ τύχη, Γ(άϊος) Ἰούλιος Μητρόδωρος

Μαραθ(ώνιος) θεσμοθετήσας Ἀπόλλωνι ὑπὸ Μακραῖς ἀνέθηκεν.

[161] Ἐφ. Ἀρχ. 1897, p. 9, pl. 4 Τιβ(έριος) Ἀντίστιος Κίνεας ἐκ Κοίλης

Ἀπόλλωνι ὑπ’ Ἄκραις βασιλεύς.

[162] Ar. Ἀθ. Πολ. LV. 15 and Harpocrat. _s.v._ Ἀπόλλων Πατρῷος.

[163] Ar. Ἀθ. Πολ. LVII. 4. There is no mention of Delphi, and the word

ἰσομέτρητον does not occur, but in Plato’s reference (_Phaedr._ 235 D)

it is distinctly stated both occur, καί σοι ἐγὼ ὥσπερ οἱ ἐννέα ἄρχοντες,

ὑπισχνοῦμαι χρυσὴν εἰκόνα ἰσομέτρητον εἰς Δελφοὺς ἀναθήσειν.

[164] Ar. Ἀθ. Πολ. LV. 5 ἐντεῦθεν δ’ ὀμόσαντες εἰς ἀκρόπολιν βαδίζουσιν

καὶ πάλιν ἐκεῖ ταῦτα ὀμνύουσι.

[165] Dem. _de Cor._ 275 καλῶ ... καὶ τὸν Ἀπόλλω τὸν Πύθιον ὃς πατρῷός

ἐστι τῇ πόλει.

[166] _C.I.A._ III. 198.

[167] Prof. Dörpfeld kindly tells me that he thinks it quite possible

that the poros structure below and north of the Klepsydra may be remains

of the Olympion. The situation would of course admirably suit the words

of Thucydides. The remains are marked in solid black in Fig. 46.

[168] For full particulars of this temple see my _Myth. and Mon. Anc.

Athens_, p. 190.

[169] I see to my great regret that Prof. Ernest Gardner in translating

Thucydides II. 15 renders ἱερόν throughout by ‘_temple_’, ‘the temple of

Olympian Zeus, the Pythium, the temple of Earth.’ Though _templum_ in

Latin is used to denote any sanctified space of earth or air, surely such

a use of _temple_ is misleading in English.

[170] Paus. I. 18. 9 τοῦ δὲ Ὀλυμπίου Διὸς Δευκαλίωνα οἰκοδομῆσαι λέγουσι

τὸ ἀρχαῖον ἱερὸν σημεῖον ἀποφαίνοντες ὡς Δευκαλίων Ἀθήνῃσιν ᾤκησε τάφον

τοῦ ναοῦ τοῦ νῦν οὐ πολὺ ἀφεστηκότα.

[171] _A. Mitt._ 1895, p. 56. The word οἰκοδομέω does not necessarily

imply house or temple building. It is used of building a wall, a

labyrinth.

[172] Plat. _Phaedr._ 227 Σω. ἀτὰρ Λυσίας ἦν ὡς ἔοικεν ἐν ἄστει; Φαι. Ναὶ

παρ’ Ἐπικράτει ἐν τῇδε τῇ πλησίον τοῦ Ὀλυμπίου οἰκίᾳ τῇ Μορυχίᾳ. Nothing

can be inferred from ἐν ἄστει. It means simply ‘in town’ as opposed to

the Peiraeus or the country.

[173] Thucyd. I. 126 ἔστι γὰρ καὶ Ἀθηναίοις Διάσια ἃ καλεῖται Διὸς ἑορτὴ

Μειλιχίου μεγίστη, ἔξω τῆς πόλεως.

[174] For a discussion of the worship of Meilichios see my _Prolegomena_,

pp. 12-29. What I there say as to the chthonic character of Meilichios

still I hope holds good, but I offer my apologies to M. Foucart for my

attempted refutation of his theory as to the Semitic origin of the god.

I now see that he was right. Meilichios is none other than ‎‏מֶלֶךְ‏‎

misunderstood. See also Lagrange, _Études sur les Religions Sémitiques_,

1905, pp. 99-109.

[175] _Par. Chron._ (Jacobi) 6 Βασιλεύοντος Ἀθηνῶν Κρ[ανα]οῦ ἀφ’ οὗ

κατακλυσμὸς ἐπὶ Δευκαλίωνος ἐγένετο καὶ Δευκαλίων τοὺς ὄμβρους ἔφυγεν ἐγ

Λυκωρείας εἰς Ἀθήνας πρὸ[ς Κρανα]ὸν καὶ τοῦ Διὸ[ς το]ῦ Ὀ[λυ]μ[πί]ου τὸ

ἱ[ε]ρὸν ἱδ[ρύσατ]ο [καὶ] τὰ σωτήρια ἔθυσεν. I would suggest that behind

Kranaos hides another Semitic figure, Kronos.

Primitive Athens as described by Thucydides · 第 4 / 5 章