Fame, Money, and Power: The Rise of Peisistratos and ''Democratic'' Tyranny at Athens

Fame, Money, and Power

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Fame, Money, and Power ` THE RISE OF PEISISTRATOS AND “DEMOCRATIC” TYRANNY AT ATHENS

B. M. Lavelle

THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN PRESS ANN ARBOR

Copyright © by the University of Michigan  All rights reserved Published in the United States of America by The University of Michigan Press Manufactured in the United States of America ∞ Printed on acid-free paper 

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher. A CIP catalog record for this book is available from the British Library. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Lavelle, Brian M., – Fame, money, and power : the rise of Peisistratos and “democratic” tyranny at Athens / B. M. Lavelle. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN --- (cloth : alk. paper) . Pisistratus, ?– or  B.C. . Athens (Greece)—History—Age of Tyrants, – B.C. . Dictators—Greece—Athens—Biography. I. Title. DF.PL  ′.—dc  ISBN13 978-0-472-11424-5 (cloth) ISBN13 978-0-472-02581-7 (electronic)

This book is dedicated to my mother and my father who gave of themselves, all that they had, and who taught their children that a life not led for others is no life at all.

` Te amo, te amo.

Preface `

This book is the result of several years’ study of Peisistratid tyranny at Athens. It was prompted not by an interest in tyranny as much as by a desire to know more about the genesis of Athenian democracy. In a short time, it became clear that fifth-century controversies about the tyranny had warped the history of the period, distorting its record by revision, apology, or silence.Thucydides defines the problem to some extent in his account of the murder of Hipparchos, the son of the tyrant Peisistratos (.–). Popular memory and accounts of the murder and what it brought about were at variance with what Thucydides believed and purported to be the facts about it. Differences and distortions are generally detectable in relation to the “history” of the tyranny, and it is clear that the Athenians who remembered or told themselves or others what they did about it were not above altering facts to obtain apparently desired results. The record was further affected by the passage of time under these conditions. Source criticism must be the bedrock for establishing what might be reliable in the record and so the history of the period. A preliminary work, The Sorrow and the Pity: A Prolegomenon to a History of Athens under the Peisistratids () took up the problem of sources for the tyranny. The tyrant Peisistratos did not operate or become tyrant in a political vacuum. Athens was functioning at least semidemocratically as early as Solon’s time, and Peisistratos inherited conditions that he could neither end nor alter fundamentally. The Athenian de–mos (“the people”) was a partner in his tyranny, as what little there is of a reliable historical record attests. Peisistratos and his successors adapted to these circumstances, as vii

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they and their contemporary competitors had to do.They must court the de– mos to keep it.This was a lesson that Kleisthenes, the author of Athenian democracy but also a high official under the tyrants, had learned well by the end of the sixth century B.C.E. His formulation of Athens’ democracy was surely influenced by these conditions. In fact, the patterns of political behavior of outstanding early democratic politicians of Athens are not dissimilar to Peisistratos’. Military leadership and success led first to credibility and then to popularity; wealth gained thereby or to be gotten was passed on in some form to the de– mos; enrichment, in turn, sustained popularity and so political power. This symbiotic “system” seems to have been in place by Solon’s time; it appears to have become entrenched by the early fifth century.“Democracy,” in a form recognizable in the early fifth century B.C.E., was present and working in Athens before and during the time of the regimes of Peisistratos and his sons.There was in fact no “day/night” break between tyranny and democracy at the time of Kleisthenes’“reforms.” This book is the result of a study of the rise of Peisistratos amid these conditions. It is a compilation of material about Peisistratos to Palle– ne– arranged in chronological fashion, as well as an analysis of the political conditions at Athens at the time (and later) and how Peisistratos fit into them. It seeks to set the facts as much as possible with a view toward the limitations of the sources for doing so. I have therefore supplemented what little remains about the tyranny and the period by introducing context, both immediate and extended, and the possibilities that context enables. In view of the dearth of evidence about this crucial period in Athens’ development, such supplementation is really the only creditable means by which to extend information about it and so to better understand not only the rise of the tyrant but also “democratic” tyranny, the de– mos’ relation to it, and so the democracy of Athens.

Acknowledgments `

This book and its author owe much to many fine people. First of all I thank Dr. John Camp and Dr. Steven Diamant for their generous help at a very early stage of things and Ms. Margaret Beck for very kindly sharing with me her excellent, still unpublished study of the topography of Brauron/Philaïdai. Use of that impressive study was invaluable. Thanks, too, to Dr. Z. Bonias and Dr. D. Malamidou for their help and Dr. C. Koukouli-Chrysanthaki for the gift of an article offprint concerning the mines of Mt. Pangaion. I owe a substantial debt of gratitude to Dr. Andronike Makres for supplying information relating to the site of Dikaia. I am very grateful, too, to Dr. Pedro Barceló, Dr. Carmine Catenacci, Dr. Greg Anderson, and Dr. Sarah Forsdyke for kindly sharing their work with me; and to Sarah again for a timely and most helpful loan of an important work bearing on topics considered here that was not available to me. Thanks also to Christopher Collins, Sarah Mann, and Mary Hashman of the University of Michigan Press, who were always kind, patient, generous, cheerful, and extremely helpful during the process leading to the book’s publication. May all their own endeavors be as trouble free as they helped to make this one for me.The referees for this book offered many helpful suggestions and sound guidance for revising the original manuscript, and I thank them, too. Several agathoi philoi have encouraged me in this work and offered invaluable help all along the way.The pioneering work of Frank Frost on the subject of Peisistratid tyranny has illuminated many dark halls in the 

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historical tradition about the tyrants. His researches and publications have been indispensable. I thank him, too, for sharing some of his unpublished work with me. Kurt Raaflaub offered beneficial guidance at an early stage of the work, and I am very grateful for this and, in particular, his comments on a portion of what has become this book. One of the boni, Larry Tritle, provided encouragement for the work and very helpful comments on a part of this book.A. J. Podlecki was a constant source of inspiration and encouragement, first embarking me on the study of Athenian tyrants and then sustaining my efforts with good counsel and advice. Good friends and outstanding scholars. I thank them all.As usual, all errors that remain in this work are entirely my own. Finally, I offer sincerest thanks to those who helped me through some pretty rough patches over the past several years. Catherine Mardikes is a redoubtable friend:she has lent her assistance to many aspects of the project.Thanks, Cathy.Annice Kelly, a person of understanding, bestowed on me the benefit of her wit and practical wisdom through many of the later stages of the project, and I am most grateful to her. Roseann Kerby, Bernadette Lynch, and Bill Lavelle and their spouses have all offered timely, practical, intellectual, loving, and, for that matter, every other kind of support for their brother. I stand in awe of their charitable capacities and will remain deeply and eternally grateful to them. Last, my children,Trevor, Leah, Kieran, and Sean, have enabled this work: without their presence,their love,their patience and enthusiasm,and their unstinting kindness and understanding, it would not have come into being.This work is also theirs. I couldn’t love them more than I do.

Contents `

I.

Introduction . . . .

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Foreword Sources  Method  Democratic Tyranny

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II. The Path to Fame The Early Life and Career of Peisistratos . Introduction  . Pylians and Neleidai  A. Testimony and Introduction 

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B. “Mycenaeans” in Eastern Attika  C. Political Advantages of the Neleid Myths  D. Conclusions  . Family Background and Incipient Ambition  . Peisistratos and the Megarian War  A. Background to the Peisistratan Phase of the War  . The Stakes and Course of the War to the Late Seventh Century ...  . The Kylonian Episode, Its Results, and Their Significance for the Megarian War  . Solon and Salamis  B. Peisistratos’ War Leadership  C. Megala Erga (Great Deeds)  

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D. Nisaia  . The Testimonies of Aineias Taktikos and Others  . Toward a Reconstruction from Context  E. Manipulation of Myth and the Megarian War  F. Summary 

III. Money, Persuasion, and Alliance The Early Tyrannies of Peisistratos  . Introduction  . Peisistratos’ First Tyranny 

A. Herodotos and the “Parties” of Attika  . Introduction  . The Solonian Factions  . Solonian Context/Herodotean Conformance  . Appearances and Realities in Herodotos  . The Herodotean Context for the Parties  . The Parties and the Deception of the De–mos: Spliced Strands of Explanation for the First Tyranny  . The Herodotean Re-creation of Megakles’ Role in the Events  B. Reconstruction of Events Leading to Peisistratos’ First Tyranny C. Peisistratos’ First Tyranny: Its Nature and Functioning  . The Early “Partnership” with Megakles  . The Akropolis and the “Club-Bearers” (korune–phoroi )  . Peisistratos’ Governance and the End of the First Entente with Megakles  . Peisistratos’ Second Tyranny  A. Introduction  B. Peisistratos and “Athena”:The Significance of the Phye Pageant  C. Peisistratos and Megakles’ Daughter:A Father’s Righteous Indignation  D. Summary  . Herodotos and Megakles  . Peisistratos’ Second Tyranny 

IV. The Tide of Wealth and Power Peisistratos’ Exile, Return, and “Rooting” of the Tyranny . The Thracian Sojourn 

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

Contents

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A. Introduction:The Strategy for Return  B. Rhaike– los  . Location of the Peisistratid Settlement  . The Settlement’s Nature and Functions  . Peisistratos’ Role in the Thermaic Gulf: Oikiste–s, Condottiere, or Strate–gos?  . Peisistratos’ Company at Rhaike– los  . Summary  C. The Strymon Enterprise  . Introduction: Lures and Deterrents of the “Regions around Pangaion”  . Location of the Peisistratid Settlement  . Peisistratos and the Mines of Pangaion  . The Nature and Purpose of the Peisistradid Settlement on the Strymon:The Examples of Histiaios and Aristagoras  . Summary  . The Palle– ne– Campaign  A. Preliminaries: Eretria  . Koisyra and the Eretrian Hippeis  . Lygdamis and Deeds before Palle– ne–  B. Resources  . The “Catalogue” of Allies  . Peisistratos’ Chre– mata and Its Uses  C. The Battle  . Tactics Implied by Herodotos’Account  . Palle– ne– in Fifth-Century Context: Problems at Source  . Toward Reconstruction  D. Aftermath  . The End of the Campaign  . Exiles and Hostages?  . Summary 

V. Summary

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. The Three Reins of the “Democratic”Tyrant  A. Fame and Popularity  B. Chre– mata and Persuasion  C. Power Begetting Power  . Reflections of the Sixth-Century Democratic Prototype in Democratic Athens 

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A. The Formula for Leadership  B. Patterns of Tyrannical Behavior among Early Democratic Athenian Leaders 

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A. The Site of the Attic Deme Philaïdai  B. The Environment of Eastern Attika in the Sixth Century B.C.E.  C. Prosopography  D. Peisistratos’ Chronology  E. The Origins of the Herodotean Parties  F. The Site of Rhaike– los  G. Peisistratos and the Purification of Delos Actions and Intentions  H. Sophokles and Herodotos on the Foundations of Tyranny Oedipous Tyrannos –  Notes  Bibliography  Index  Illustrations following page 

I

Introduction ` `

.   Peisistratos, the son of Hippokrates, and his sons dominated affairs at Athens from  to  ..., a period that was obviously a crucial one in Athens’ development.Yet we know almost nothing about these important years. Most of what we have about the Peisistratids clusters at the beginning of Peisistratos’tyrannies and at the end of Hippias’rule.This could be taken to indicate that the establishment and dissolution of the tyranny were the most distinguishing and memorable events associated with it, that things might have gone pretty dim in between or otherwise did not bear recollection in the aftermath of the tyranny.At all events, the period of Peisistratid tyranny is one of the most opaque in Athens’ history not only because of a lack of hard information about it but also because much of what little does survive is problematic.1 The implications of the meager evidence about the tyranny are in fact belied by Athens’ achievements even immediately after the regime’s demise and by the relatively rich material record of the tyranny itself, particularly that to be found in its architectural, sculptural, and pottery remains.2 These indicate continuous, impressive progress in art and artistic technology through the period, an increasing sophistication in culture among the Athenians more generally, and, it must follow, a prospering economy.3 From well before the tyranny’s establishment to long after its demise, Athens’ art and culture continued to evolve toward their “classical” forms of the fifth century.This evolution was in fact not only unimpeded by the tyranny but actually stimulated by it and the widening pros-

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perity over which the tyrants presided. (There is in fact some corroboration for this stimulation in the written record, as we shall presently see.)4 The range of dedications on the Athenian akropolis datable to the later stages of the tyranny, made apparently by citizens (astoi) spanning the spectrum of social and economic statuses; grand festivals common to all, established even before Peisistratos; and, within them, poetic performances available to the Athenians en masse all imply that many rather than few were participant in the city’s growing cultural life during the time of the tyrants. The refined aesthetic sensibilities of the Athenians, which in the fifth century were realized in a number of remarkable forms, had clearly evolved through the later sixth century and were actually quite well developed by the tyranny’s end.5 This burgeoning of Athenian culture accords with what little we know, especially about the later Peisistratids as notable patrons of architecture and literature.6 The scope of Peisistratid era wealth and its employment by the younger tyrants for the production of art may be gauged to some extent by the number and size of public and artistic works undertaken during the period, most notably the temple of Olympian Zeus, and by their retention at Athens of the foremost Greek poets of the age.7 Thus, to the contrary of what the near silence of the historical record between the beginning and end of the tyranny implies, the Peisistratids were quite at the forefront of Athens’ cultural progress and, on the evidence, had much to do with laying the foundations for that which we call “Classical”Athens. So the material remains, but the tyrants must also have figured somehow in the genesis of Athens’ democracy, that greatest of Athenian institutions of the Classical period. The Peisistratid regime and its politics functioned without apparent disruption for more than three decades, enduring until just a few years before Kleisthenes promulgated his reforms in – ... Political participation involving the de– mos, attested as early as the seventh century ... at Athens, continued through the period of the tyranny, as elections to public offices, howsoever they may have been “rigged,” occurred regularly and apparently without fundamental change.8 Herodotos and Thucydides agree that the Athenian laws and the political processes that existed before the tyranny were adhered to during its time. Thucydides says in fact that the Peisistratids “observed the laws that had been established before the tyranny”(..),and Herodotos says that Peisistratos ruled “having upset none of the existing offices or changed any of the laws” (..).9

Introduction

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In fact, the Peisistratids seem to have presided over what might be called a “protodemocracy.” Solon’s poems prove that political assemblies, oratory persuasive of the de– mos, and campaigns for leadership occurred in his day and imply that elections occurred; Herodotos indicates very clearly that Peisistratos was essentially voted into his first tyranny by the assembled Athenians.10 Political participation by the de– mos was thus by no means a new thing when Kleisthenes introduced his reformist program near the end of the sixth century ...11 The Alkmeonid had himself been a very high-ranking cooperative of the Peisistratids, attaining the archonship conspicuously just after Hippias in – ..., and it is in any case impossible to imagine that his earlier political experiences during the tyranny did not in some way inform his political thinking.12 It is a question indeed whether Kleisthenes did more to formulate the Athenian “democracy” than he did to formalize what had evolved through the period of tyranny.13 In fact, Herodotos says that Kleisthenes changed things the way he did in emulation of his grandfather, the tyrant of Sikyon: he was thus perceived by Herodotos as being rather a far cry from an ideological democrat.14 Like the “reformer” himself, many of the most significant statesmen of early democratic Athens were affiliates of or collaborators with the tyrants during their regime.The most prominent of the affine-politicians of the early democracy was Hipparchos, the son of Charmos, namesake of Peisistratos’ son, and archon for – ... Hipparchos is described by the author of the Ath.Pol. (A.P.) as leader of a tyrannist faction that not only weathered the fall of the tyranny but even prospered at Athens in spite of it.15 Ostracized in , Hipparchos was followed into exile the next year by another syngene–s (kinsman) of Peisistratos, the Alkmeonid Megakles, the son of Hippokrates and nephew of Kleisthenes. The Alkmeonidai must have served the tyrants well for Kleisthenes to have attained the archonship; actually, members of the genos (clan, family) seem to have become relations by marriage to the Peisistratids during the tyranny’s heyday.The Alkmeonidai apparently managed to turn coat just at the right moment, surviving implication with Hippias at the end of the tyranny and so any “cleansing” that followed it. Unlike Kleisthenes, who disappears pretty rapidly from the picture after introducing his “democratic” program, other Alkmeonids managed successfully to ride out the political turbulence at Athens until just after Marathon, when, unfortunately for some, accounts for association with the Peisistratids, past and present, came due. Three of Peisistratos’ kin, two of them Alkmeonidai

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and one of these Megakles, obviously all of political significance, were ostracized in consecutive years beginning with the son of Charmos.16 Of greater political prominence, though no apparent kin to the Peisistratids, was Miltiades, the son of Kimon koalemos (vacant) who and whose forebears acted in the significant role of agents for the tyrants in the Thracian Chersone– se. In fact, they had been tyrants there themselves.17 It is worth noting that Miltiades’ failure at Paros, not his former association with the Peisistratids or his status as tyrant in the Chersone– se, accounted for his political free fall after Marathon.18 These were, of course, the notable “friends” and relations of the tyrants whose political lives prospered until the aftermath of the first Persian invasion of Attika.There were certainly other, lower-profile, and so presumably lower-level, politicians who had been archontes (elected officials) or functionaries of the tyrants (e.g., Harpaktides, Skamandrios, etc.) but who also seem to have remained in Athens after the tyranny’s demise.19 As it happens,many of the politically successful gene– of Athens for some period after  ..., and obviously the majority of the Council of the Areopagos before Marathon, were associated with the government of the tyrants in some way or other.20 Presumably, following the lead of Miltiades and the other notable politicians, these tyrannist apparatchiks prudently and publicly proclaimed for the democracy no later than at the approach of the Persians and their Peisistratid allies to Attika just before  ...21 Astute political “trimmers”—the Athenian term was kothurnoi—these apparently made the transition relatively easily from tyranny to democracy. Most of them also survived the post-Marathon ostracisms. How much did Athenian politics actually change after Kleisthenes? Obviously, the Peisistratid “fix” was no longer in, but some leading politicians of the early democracy comported themselves in ways that reminded even the Athenians themselves of the tyrants and prompted them to enact curbs for such imitations.22 Precisely how “democratic” the Peisistratid regime was we cannot say, but the tyranny was certainly based on the consent of the governed. However, whatever lasting marks were left by the tyranny upon the democracy were dimmed or otherwise obscured either purposefully or inadvertently in memory and then record. Consequently, references to the tyranny and its achievements were most times oblique if reference was made at all; there was in fact no explicit historical connection between institutions of the tyranny and the early democracy for good reasons, as we shall see.There are, however, substantial in-

Introduction

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dications that the political “game” established well before Peisistratos, but refined by him, was essentially the same game for democratic politicians. The Athenians of the early fifth century denied connections with the Peisistratids, and that denial, made in one form or another, profoundly affected what was recalled about the tyranny and the Athenians’ relationship to it.The record of the tyranny presents real problems for historians not only because it is mostly mute in respect of the tyranny’s cultural endowments, its political legacies, and the details of its routine activities but also because it is inconsistent and contradictory. On the one hand, on the face of what little we have, the tyrant regime was, as Greek tyrannies typically were, at odds with those it governed, its subjects both disarmed and disenfranchised and the tyranny generally pernicious. At the outset of his digression on Athens, for example, Herodotos says that Attika was “riven and torn apart” by Peisistratos, implying that the tyrant was of the violent type and the tyranny itself lawless.23 Of course, the image of the “bad” tyrant is stock in ancient Greek literature.24 Herodotos’ characterization of Peisistratid tyranny agrees with Otanes’ generalizing description of the vicissitudes of “normal” (Greek) tyranny in the famous, fictional Persian “Debate on Government” (..): under tyrants, laws are suspended, convictions come about without due process, and women and boys are sexually abused.25 In short, cities are “torn apart” by tyranny. Prima facie, then, the tyranny of the Peisistratids was no different: a repressive monarchy established and maintained by overbearing force.26 Herodotos echoes the official fifth-century Athenian polarity of tyrants and tyrannized at Athens by implying that,after Palle– ne– ,the latter exchanged “freedom for tyranny.”27 Yet, even in Herodotos things are not at all so clear-cut.The historian contradicts his own negative pronouncement on the tyranny when he says in the same account of Peisistratos’ rise that Peisistratos ruled “well and fairly” (..).28 Peisistratos is thus unmade as the typical evil tyrant and becomes instead an “untyrannical tyrant,” rather more along the lines of Tynnondas of Chalkis and Pittakos of Mityle– ne– . As we shall see, Herodotos actually supplies the most substantial evidence for believing the opposite of the typical in the case of Peisistratos: his tyranny was popular; the Athenian de– mos did consent to it, at least initially; and so the polarity of tyranny and de– mos did not obtain during that period of the sixth century.29 In fact, both Thucydides and Herodotos imply that the Athenians continued to consent to the tyranny nearly to its end.The popularity of the tyranny actually makes sense, especially when the little

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we have about it is put into the context of other historical evidence for periods before and after it. For his part,Thucydides undermines the image of “bad” tyranny by asserting that the Peisistratids were generally just and reasonable.30 In fact, the historian asserts that the Peisistratids “beautified the city, fought wars through, and made the sacrifices in the temples” (..), that is, that they ruled Athens pretty well.31 In this characterization, which goes well beyond Herodotos’ statement, the tyrants, including Peisistratos, appear to be benefactors of the city, patriots, and righteous governors of the people, in short, good rulers and models in fact for what good leaders anywhere in Greece should be.Yet the characterization is confounded by Thucydides’ further description of Hipparchos as a “textbook” tyrant who attempted to suborn Harmodios,arrogantly,sexually,and publicly,and who, failing in that, went on to insult his sister by impugning her chastity.32 Later authors, most prominently the author of the Ath.Pol., contrive to compose or explain these earlier conflicting accounts of Peisistratid tyranny, with obviously imperfect results.33 The contradictoriness in sources for the tyranny did not come about because of confusion about historical facts but rather because of attempts by the Athenians themselves to come to terms with a past about which they seem to have felt ambivalently. On the one hand, undoubtedly due to the real or the imputed treachery of the surviving “Peisistratids” during the Persian wars, the tyrants and the tyranny were officially reviled through the fifth century.This official execration is revealed above all in the cult of the tyrant slayers, whom the Athenians made heroes, patriots, and freedom fighters for killing Hipparchos, the son of Peisistratos. Concomitantly, the Peisistratids were officially proscribed, bounties were placed on the heads of those that survived, and condemnation (damnatio) apparently was decreed for both the living and the dead. Negative views about Peisistratid tyranny that surface later in literary sources were influenced by the anger of the Athenians for the collaboration of the Peisistratids with the Persians if they were not actually engendered in such an environment.They are in any case quite in accord with the execration of the tyrants, which hardened after the Persian wars into an essential aspect of popular fifth-century Athenian democratic ideology.34 From such a standpoint,for some Athenians reflecting on the Peisistratid past,unremitting force and compulsion could alone account for the tyrants’dominance in an Athens that never wanted them. Of course, popular ideology, which need owe history very little, could not only countenance but encourage

Introduction



such revisionism.Thus, for some, the tyrant period was either bad (when it began), nothing to speak of or recall (during the intervening years), or something to celebrate because it was ended.After all, those most famous symbols of Athens’ early democracy, Harmodios and Aristogeiton, owed their place to their assassination of Hipparchos and the popular belief that they had ended the tyranny.35 Positive views of the tyranny might seem inexplicable in view of such a prevailing, popular attitude, but these exist.They may even have been encouraged because they helped to rationalize and so ease the discomfort of the painful memories of the establishment of the tyranny and its embarrassing longevity.Things were quiet, the rationale would run, nothing was upset really, and the city was well governed after all.As it happened, Peisistratos was a special person, a war hero, very smart, and above all divinely favored. He was a product of forces beyond the Athenians’ powers to resist him: what could they do? This is myth of course, yet we see from the accounts that the Athenians’“history” of the tyranny could include topoi, tall tales, and even outright lies. Leave to revise in this way, howsoever it was generated, could account for the contradictions of such as Herodotos’ sources,who supplied him with the conflicting information he passes on.36 Notwithstanding such rationalizations, there survives even what appears to be genuine appreciation of the tyrant regime that contradicted the official attitude of execration outright. This is perhaps clearest in Thucydides’ account of the death of Hipparchos (.–), wherein the historian seems to praise the tyrants and criticize the Athenians. It is very possible that some of the positive estimations of the tyranny came about either to scold the de– mos for allowing the tyranny or because there were some at Athens who, contemporaries of Thucydides, were actually nostalgic for the tyranny.37 Alkibiades the Younger, for example, proclaimed his blood connection to the Peisistratids rather proudly before the Athenians.38 Yet such positive views of the Peisistratids must have been mostly privately held, especially during the fifth century, since these were directly at variance with the “official,” public, and popular line on tyranny. Because of the strata of recollection and varying attitudes—the official execration of the tyrants seems to have been more and less vehement and then more so again over the course of the fifth century39—sources for the tyranny were inherited and so provide us with rather a mixed bag of “evidence” about the Peisistratids.40 That consists of, among other things, apologies to, revisions of, and “spins” upon the facts that are delimited sometimes only by the revisions themselves. Of course, silence as a con-



, ,  

tradiction to the history of the tyranny also figures in the tradition about the Peisistratids. (I return to this in chapter III.) The thinness of the record, its silence or contradictoriness, and, additionally, the unusual, patently nonhistorical nature of a good deal of what remains conspire to hamper historical reconstructions of this crucial period. Substantial gaps in information even concerning events at the beginning and end of the tyranny add to the problems.41 What limited attempts have been made to reconstruct the history of the tyranny have relied, for the most part, upon acceptance and restatement of the sources’ testimonies; these have been made largely uncritically.42 The results have been predictably unsatisfactory since these, like the sources, owe little to logic, reason, reality, or historicity but much to predilection, fancy, or even blatant falsehood. In essence, until recently, popular Athenian “history” has merely been restated.43 Adding to all these problems has been a certain tendency by modern scholars to construe ancient tyrannies in the context of more recent and familiar ones.The apparent goad for this has been the political dichotomy that the Athenians of the fifth century officially observed and that Herodotos echoes in his work to some extent.44 In assuming that the polarity of de– mos/de–mokratia and tyranny actually obtained for the period of the Peisistratid regime, scholars have simply followed the lead of the Athenians and their “official” view of tyranny and its anachronism into the sixth century.45 Thus, though the historical “text” of Peisistratid tyranny has been mostly constructed upon Athenian bias toward or reaction to it, its subtext has been informed to some degree by modern biases encouraged by ancient ones.46 The results are the same in any case. Such reconstructions are enfeebled by the adulteration of the obviously nonhistorical elements in the Athenian tradition. As a thread connected to fifth-century Athenian democracy,“tyranny” treated in Greek sources seems to give us far more substantive information about the Athenians’ democratic ideology then than it does about the Peisistratid era of the sixth century.Their primary political preoccupations, their political fears and aspirations, their selfperceptions, and even the “mirrors” they most sought to avoid in the fifth century are far more illumined by this thread than is the tyranny.47 Notwithstanding such problems, it is the purpose of this book to reconstruct, as much as possible, the history of the early tyrannies of Peisistratos at Athens, adopting a source-critical approach to this difficult evidence. It is thus comprised of a series of studies, presented in a roughly

Introduction



chronological arrangement so as to arrive at the most comprehensive and continuous narrative possible, proceeding from critical appraisal of that evidence. As this is a history, and so must depend for the most part on the written sources, ancillary topics such as the art, religion, and other cultural aspects of the period will be introduced only as they pertain to analysis of the written evidence and, in this volume, to location of reliable facts about the earliest phases of Peisistratid tyranny at Athens in those sources.

.  Herodotos must be the basis for any attempt to reconstruct the early tyranny at Athens; his sources for the rise and final establishment of Peisistratos’ tyranny had to have been the Athenians of the mid–fifth century ...48 Part Karian, part Greek, Herodotos was born in Halikarnassos in Greek-speaking Karia a little before the Persian invasion of Greece; he was in exile apparently sometime before  ...49 He appears to have traveled a great deal but at length arrived at Athens where he is said to have recited portions of his work for which he received handsome pay from the Athenians.50 Scholars have noticed a pronounced Athenian bias in his work, and the readings he chose for them were likely intended to please them, if not to flatter them outright. Inasmuch as Herodotos became one of the leaders of Athen’s new colony at Thourioi in southern Italy in  ..., he would have made some quite important friends in rather high places.51 There is evidence for just that. Herodotos was reputed to have been a friend of the tragedian Sophokles, and it was perhaps through him that he became part of the circle of Perikles,the apparent architect of the colony to Thourioi.52 The latest reference in Herodotos’ Histories is datable to  ..., so that all of the information he got about the Peisistratids had to have been obtained some time before then or about a century and a half after the events involving the earlier tyranny.53 Megakles, an Alkmeonid, plays quite a prominent role in Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise, and it is thus likely that Herodotos relied on Alkmeonid sources.54 It is actually quite on the cards that Perikles,an Alkmeonid,was Herodotos’specific source for Peisistratos’ rise to the tyranny. It is likely, too, that because of this, Herodotos passes on much of the Alkmeonid “party line” on the history—that is to say, their history—of the early tyranny.55 Perhaps his favorable inclinations toward the Alkmeonids in his work helped to earn him a place at Thourioi.



, ,  

Herodotos treats the rise of Peisistratos as part of his account of Kroisos’ fall.The end of the Lydian empire brought the Persians to the shores of the Aegean and led to the great conflict of the early fifth century ... on the Greek mainland.The logos that relates events from before Peisistratos’ birth to Palle– ne– and the “rooting” of the tyranny (.–) explains why the Athenians did not assist Kroisos when he cast about for Greek allies before invading the land across the Halys River; it is balanced by an excursus explaining the Spartan failure to support the Lydians in the field. Herodotos’ account contains a basic set of plausible facts, but many of its details are very questionable. In its essentials, the account amounts to quite limited descriptions of three attempts by Peisistratos to establish a tyranny, the last of which is successful and “roots” the regime for over three decades. The factualness of the account is obscured and much is called into question because it is replete with extraordinary occurrences, from the prodigy of Hippokrates’ pot boiling over without fire beneath it to the pageant of Phye-as-Athena leading Peisistratos back into Athens and the prophecy of Amphilytos, who foretells the outcome of the battle of Palle– ne– .The overriding “message” of these occurrences and of the logos itself is that Peisistratos’ rule as tyrant was inevitable; that inevitability is predicted right at its outset by Herodotos’ report of Chilon’s prophetic monition to Hippokrates to avoid having children and is confirmed by Peisistratos’ easy victory at Palle– ne– .There are, to be sure, a number of facts embedded in this digression, but these take second seat to the paramount message.56 Herodotos’ source(s) obviously did not relate these things to him as history but as reactive treatments of the historical record. The aim of the logos was surely to revise the history of Peisistratos’ rise apparently in order to absolve the Athenians to some degree for allowing it.The factual narrative is thus overwritten by that which explains how Peisistratos’ tyranny was unavoidable but also by that which partially moots the role of the Athenians in its establishment.Yes, it admits, some Athenians (notably the Alkmeonids) did abet the tyrant, and actually helped him to come to rule Athens, but Athens was helpless anyway before a power ordained by the gods.Yes, Megakles married his daughter to Peisistratos, but he reacted properly and vigorously when the tyrant proved himself to be depraved. It is the Athenians, and most notably the Alkmeonidai, who are served by this sort of treatment, and it is they surely who passed along their “history” of the tyrant’s rise to Herodotos. The reasons for these effects on Herodotos’ account must be reviewed in the context of the Persian war and the attitude of execration toward

Introduction



the tyrants, which seems to have come about then.Among those most especially called upon to explain their relations with the Peisistratids, even as late as Herodotos’ day, were the Alkmeonidai.Their actual history included rather close association with the tyrants during their reign, as we have seen; they were accused of treason when the Persians and Hippias invaded Attika in  ..., a charge Herodotos duly records (.). Herodotos goes on to apologize for the Alkmeonids and to emphasize their innocence, averring that, since the Alkmeonidai were inveterate tyrant haters, they could hardly have been tyrant lovers on Marathon day (.).57 The root of Alkmeonid “hatred” of the tyrants is in fact to be found in Herodotos’ logos on the tyrant’s rise, and this, too, is apology. Of course, the lie, specifically that the Alkmeonidai were inveterate tyrant haters and absent from Athens after Palle– ne– , is exposed by the appearance of Kleisthenes’ name on the archon list for –.58 Since such an apology must have originated with the Alkmeonidai, we imagine that they said much the same thing to the Athenians as we find in Herodotos, albeit more emphatically nearer in time to the alleged treason and so to their greater need to apologize. Inasmuch as the featured “player”in Herodotos’logos on Peisistratos’rise is Megakles, it would be difficult to accept that the Alkmeonidai were not Herodotos’ source(s) here. Megakles is most in evidence after Peisistratos, and his crucial part in the establishment of the second tyranny is quite explicitly stated. (It is implicit as such for the first tyranny, as we shall see.) Megakles’ collaboration is, however, eclipsed by the portrayal of his subsequent hostility to Peisistratos as outraged father and by his role as chief opponent to the tyrant at Palle– ne– .Although the inconsistencies in Herodotos’ account are striking—Megakles’ trail of alliance with Peisistratos is hardly concealed59—the historian’s Alkmeonid sources did what they could to apologize for, distract from, or otherwise stonewall information about the tyranny and their ancestor’s role in it in order to defend or rehabilitate his memory, but surely more to lessen the heat on themselves.60 The Alkmeonid account of Peisistratos’rise was perhaps deemed the richest,most credible, and complete by Herodotos because of the level of coherency it had reached from polish and iteration. Then again the authority of such as Perikles would have added to its credibility for the historian. On the other hand, it is hard to imagine that the implausibilities of the resulting account escaped Herodotos’ notice. (I return to this in chapter III.) We expect that Thucydides,an Athenian,would have known much more about the establishment of the tyranny and its character than Herodotos



, ,  

did, but he does not supply much. In explanation of that, it might be said that since it was not really his interest he was purposefully silent about it.61 In any case,other than in his excursus on the death of Hipparchos (.–), he offers next to nothing about the tyranny. As we have seen, he generalizes about the Peisistratid regime at .., rating it good overall.A vaguer statement made at ., while ostensibly encompassing Archaic tyrants and tyrannies in general, must nevertheless have been made with regard to the Athenian Peisistratids.62 Thucydides informs us in this passage that Archaic tyrants mainly looked to their own safety, substance, and succession and so did nothing really dramatic or noteworthy. Of course, his statement is purposeful in context: in these chapters of the Archaiologia, Thucydides is attempting to prove that the Peloponnesian war was the most significant event to occur in Greece up to his time and so must diminish the accomplishments of the past and, in this case, the tyrants and their deeds.63 On the other hand,Thucydides’ vague summary of Archaic tyrannies, including that of the Peisistratids, might best be taken as an indication that there was not a great deal of information available even to him.64 Certainly, apart from the myth and apology that appear in Herodotos’ account, testimonies about the Athenian tyrants in particular were surely lacking due to the dampering effect of the official attitude of execration prevalent in Athens from the earlier fifth century.65 There is some proof that Thucydides did not have access to much information about the tyranny. At .., he argues on basis of the ste–le– adikias (the stone bearing the official decree of condemnation of the Peisistratids), but cannot prove outright, that Hippias was older than Hipparchos. In this, he is unable to appeal to anything stronger than his own argument from reason. He adduces no explicit information about the succession, no irrefutable proof even for him in his day; instead, he must argue from likelihood.66 Apparently, though an Athenian himself,Thucydides had little to go on for the period of Peisistratid tyranny.67 The final major source for the earlier tyranny is the Ath.Pol. (.–.), which in most cases, understandably, is inferior to the two of the fifth century. While the Ath.Pol. preserves some independent information, presumably derived from Atthides, the chronicles of Athens, and some of it appears not only plausible but valid,68 much of its account of the earlier tyrannies is grounded in Herodotos.69 There are in addition many obviously nonhistorical topoi in the Peisistratid sections.The theme of Peisistratos’ cleverness, for example, which is apparent in Herodotos, is embellished to provide the account of his tricky disarming of the Athenians near

Introduction



the The– seion (.).70 Peisistratos’ righteousness and popularity also figure in his imagined encounter with the poor husbandman of Hymettos, who, knowing the exactions of the tyrant only too well but not the tyrant himself, proceeds to criticize him to his face.71 This is actually folktale.The Peisistratid sections of the Ath.Pol. possess a “nugget” here and there, presumably deriving from the Atthides, and must be sifted carefully.72 (So, too, it seems, must Aineias Taktikos et al.)73 Beyond these and some odd bits and pieces that emerge in late sources, there is nothing about the earlier tyrannies of Peisistratos that is not either derivative,invented,or altogether fanciful.Later sources transmit little that may be deemed reliable or, for that matter, of any real worth.74 This may be due largely to time’s passage and, with it, the loss of memory about the tyrants. The suppression or perversion of evidence about Peisistratid tyranny however undoubtedly contributed to the degradation of the store of information about them. By necessity, this study must be concerned with, above all, Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise and so the information rendered to him by his Athenian sources of the mid–fifth century.

.  How will material obviously affected by such filtration be evaluated? How are facts to be determined and separated from what is not factual? My study will employ two primary means of evaluation: categorization and contextualization. First, facts that are not controversial, that seem firm and do not entail interested reporting, I shall take to be true and elemental for any historical reconstruction. These would include, for example, that there was a tyranny, that Peisistratos was a tyrant, that he did in fact go north to Thrace, and so on. Information that is less plausible or evidently affected by controversies,for example,how the tyranny came about and who helped and how,must be taken as less veracious but possibly containing valid data. Finally, facts that are clearly adulterated must be considered least historically valid. For example, the incident involving Chilon and Hippokrates, and the pronouncement of Amphilytos the seer before Palle– ne– entail marked implausibilities and strongly resemble folktales.The account of Peisistratos’ mistreatment of Megakles’ daughter portrays the generic behavior of tyrants but is uncharacteristic for him and quite unlikely in context, as we shall see.These seem to be nonhistorical. Manus manum lavat: context, contemporary or near contemporary and established by the sources themselves, assists as a kind of control to fur-



, ,  

ther verify or to disprove, but it may also add to the information about the tyranny. Unassailable facts must determine context primarily, yet their implications can be extended. For example, though the events of the Megarian war of the late seventh and early sixth centuries ... are not at all clear from our sources, the indisputable facts are that there was a war between Athens and Megara, that it lasted a very long time, and that Peisistratos played some role in it at a minimum.75 We may proceed further from the following facts.As Salamis, the island between the two belligerents, was a key to the struggle, we must conclude that at some point in the war there was naval action involving the two warring parties. If there was naval action, there were naval commanders. Peisistratos was thus almost surely a naval commander. In fact, one of our more questionable sources,Aineias Taktikos, says exactly that, though we should be forced to assume it anyway. The explicit information is seconded by what Herodotos says and implies (..): Peisistratos became a general and did many “great things” in the war ending with the capture of Nisaia, Megara’s major Saronic Gulf port. It follows that Peisistratos was a proficient and successful military man, that he had proven himself in action before he attained high command (strate–gia) and with it command of the Athenians, and that his competency included the use of ships. As with some epigraphic readings, we might thus call some of these “forced.” Other information enhances the context of the tyrannies. Solon portrays Athenian politics of the later seventh and early sixth centuries in his poems.76 It is in fact the only evidence we have whose context is that period.77 As we have seen, Solon attests to political assemblies, public speakers, and decisions made about government by the de– mos in them. Solon’s testimony about politics in his day helps to clarify political conditions at the time of Peisistratos’ tyrannies. He says unequivocally that politics was played out in Athens (not the countryside) among two groups; that the Athenians met in assembly to hear political speakers and to vote on issues; and that they were persuaded by public speech. Herodotos says that two “parties” preexisted Peisistratos’ third one and that the de– mos voted Peisistratos a bodyguard after he pleaded for one in a political assembly in the marketplace (agora).The coincidence between what Solon portrays and what Herodotos says cannot be fortuitous. Thus, the evidence will be evaluated in several ways.At the top of the list, most valuable but most rare, are what I shall call the “unassailable” facts. Peisistratos was tyrant, and so on. Next comes information that, while not attested,follows logically:these are essentially “forced readings.”

Introduction



Peisistratos “earned his spurs” before becoming war leader (strate–gos) of the Athenians; the war with Megara entailed naval operations. Following this are testimonia that do not bear the stamp of apology or other interested treatments, that fit the contexts portrayed by the sources themselves or by such sources as Solon, and that might find agreement in other sources: the factualness of these will be assumed but not unquestionably. For example,Aineias Taktikos seems to describe an amphibious attack on Nisaia by Peisistratos.That is plausible, but its origination in Eleusis is not: the logical concomitants of war between Athens and Megara come into play in relation to this information. Finally, testimonia that obviously bear the stamp of apology or other interested treatment will be evaluated for facts they indicate directly, obliquely, or otherwise, but they will not be assumed to be factual. For example, the ground for the disruption of the marriage of Megakles’ daughter to Peisistratos indicates an attempt not only to dim memory of Megakles’ political “kingmaking” of Peisistratos but also very likely to occlude the memory of a later, more lasting marriage alliance between Alkmeonidai and Peisistratidai.Yet only that which is quite obviously implausible or completely unhistorical will be held to be of no value. Of course, the principle that factualness is guaranteed just because of appearance in Herodotos or other sources will not be observed in this book.

.       A major thesis of this work is that Peisistratos was a “democratic” tyrant. He was “elected” to the tyranny on the first two occasions; that he was allowed to remain tyrant for many years after  and the victory at Palle– ne– also points to majority consent of the Athenians. In this reconstruction, it will become evident that Peisistratos was more of a prototype for democratic leaders of the early fifth century than a countertype. Distinctions between him (and presumably his sons until nearly the end of the tyranny) and Athenian politicians of the early fifth century are exaggerated; substantial similarities exist between the likes of Miltiades, Kimon, and even Perikles on the one hand and Peisistratos on the other, and these cannot be fortuitous. Solon’s poems offer proof that the Athenian de– mos was sovereign in bestowing power on or removing it from its leaders: its consent was required for those who aspired to power and to retain it. The de– mos was swayed by public speech from politicians, especially involving promises of



, ,  

gain. Solon was one of them. In fact, Solon might be considered the first “democratic tyrant” of Athens for the powers that he wielded, as lawgiver exceeded those of other traditional offices. As mentioned, Herodotos affirms that the de– mos was decisive in political affairs involving Peisistratos. Popularly acclaimed twice, Peisistratos resorted to force finally to overcome opposition to his third and final tyranny.Yet even before the rout of Palle– ne– , masses of Athenians “from the city” were defecting to Peisistratos’ camp, thus voting, as it were, with their feet. Ejected easily by the Athenians when they were united against him, Peisistratos simply could not have maintained himself in power over time without their ongoing consent. The fluctuations in Peisistratos’ earlier career can be taken, in fact, as an indication that he got and then lost the favor of the de– mos more than once. In fact, the ebb and flow of his political fortunes accord well with the Solonian context, as well as with the later democratic one.As an outsider, Peisistratos was no match to begin with for older city hands like Megakles, whose constituency was the de– mos. It was Megakles who manipulated it for a time, deploying the wealth acquired by Alkmeon in exile. Indeed, it was only after Peisistratos secured money enough to loosen Megakles’ grip once for all that he could “root” his tyranny firmly, even as Herodotos states. Chre–mata (“money, wealth”) was the key to getting and maintaining power, even as it was in the democracy of the fifth century.Peisistratos,grasping the principle,spent the most part of a decade striving to acquire it. As Solon before him, Megakles during his own political heyday, and democratic politicians after him, Peisistratos maintained himself in power with the agreement of the Athenians.This he procured first by means of his war-record (and the fame and popularity that it generated) and, ultimately,by means of chre– mata.(Oratory,that is,public-speaking ability,was a further necessary ingredient, even as the career of Solon demonstrates.) Chre– mata, along with his “allies,” are explicitly cited by Herodotos as the “pillars” of Peisistratos’ ultimate triumph. Fame through war heroism and victory, together with chre– mata, led to Peisistratos’ extended reign: it was apparently never a question for him or, for that matter, politicians before or after him of the de– mos simply recognizing its betters and, sheeplike, yielding governance to superiors in “birth and wealth.” Rather it is fact that politicians, including Peisistratos, recognized the strength of the Athenian de– mos and the need to co-opt it.This co-option was necessary in order first to gain political primacy and then to retain it.78

II

The Path to Fame ` THE EARLY LIFE AND CAREER OF PEISISTRATOS

.  Peisistratos was born ca.  ... His home was Philaïdai (figs.  and ), very near the coast of eastern Attika at Brauron (fig.).Presumably,he grew to adulthood in that region, training for war there from boyhood. Unlike most, however, Peisistratos became especially adept at warfare, debuting in Athenian history as strate– gos in the latest stages of the war with Megara. He must have served with some distinction in the conflict before achieving that high rank and been recognized both for his prowess in war and for his command capability.As strate– gos Peisistratos led the Athenians to what appears to have been a decisive victory over the Megarians at their port of Nisaia, concluding thereby the long war in Athens’ favor and earning gratitude and great regard from his countrymen as a result. Peisistratos’ success in the war or,more likely,the Athenians’positive response to it encouraged, if it did not actually kindle, his ambition to become tyrant of Athens. In any event, Herodotos says that the popularity Peisistratos gained from Megara’s defeat figured directly and prominently in his successful first bid for tyranny.1 For all of that, Herodotos nevertheless portrays Peisistratos as an outsider to Athenian politics at the time of that bid. Such are the bare facts about Peisistratos’ earlier life, along with what can be reasonably extrapolated from the extant information about him. There is, however, other valid information, some of it rather more 



, ,  

oblique, some more subtle, which, appraised judiciously, can nevertheless help to inform us further about Peisistratos’ earlier life and career.

.      A. Testimony and Introduction According to Herodotos, the Peisistratidai were “by descent Pylians and Neleidai, sprung from the family of Kodros and Melanthos, who, though they were foreigners before, became kings (basileis) of the Athenians” (..). Herodotos goes on to say that it was because of this descent that Hippokrates, the father of Peisistratos, named the boy after Nestor’s son. Other ancient authors preserve essentially the same information, adding really nothing of importance to Herodotos’ statement.2 The myths will be discussed further, but suffice it to say here that, even as Herodotos alludes,the Pylian myths highlighted the advent to Athens of outsiders who, in spite of their foreignness, displayed remarkable patriotism and so became leaders of the Athenians. Herodotos’ testimony presents us with two immediate questions: was the Peisistratid claim to such descent at all valid? And, more pertinent to Peisistratos and his tyranny, what did such a claim mean to the Athenians? Some have suspected that the Peisistratid-Pylian tradition was invented, since, among other things, Neleid connections appear to have borne political dividends for those claiming them.3 Were such descent to be accepted by the Athenians, the Peisistratidai would undoubtedly have been ranked among the leading Athenian nobility, earning prestige and perhaps even power therefrom.4 Of course, if Peisistratos were considered an outsider, as he seems to have been, he had even further motivation to publicize such a link, since the Pylians had come to the Athenians as “strangers” but became basileis. Herodotos states that, even after leading the Athenians to victory at Nisaia, Peisistratos had to form a new “party” of adherents called hyperakrioi (beyond-the-hills men) to compete with the other two staseis (parties) and their leaders.Apparently, Peisistratos was barred from participating among the standing “parties” of the city and thus forced to constitute his own from among a clientele whose very name suggests that they dwelt well away from the asty (city proper) and Athens’ “pale.”5 The problems with Herodotos’ “parties of Attika” aside for the moment, the persistent memory of Peisistratos’ origins in far eastern Attika, situated at some distance even from the temple of Athena

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Palle– nis, the apparent marker between what was considered Athenian land proper and the hinterland in the early sixth century ..., supports by itself the belief that the Athenians of the city did not consider Peisistratos entirely Athenian when he entered into public affairs.6 Peisistratos’ Pylian ancestry may therefore have been emphasized, exaggerated, or entirely concocted essentially as a rhetorical persuasion, its design intended to open paths and create possibilities that might otherwise not exist for the only marginally Athenian Peisistratos.A stated link with the Pylians may even have been requisite for Peisistratos to aspire to power in the first place, a kind of credential of affinity and worthiness for leadership, the assertion of which must precede any bid for that leadership. Peisistratos was by no means alone among the Athenians in laying claim to descent from Neleus, a fact that confirms that such associations were advantageous if not requisite for political inclusion and advancement.7 The myths themselves specify why ambitious Athenians vying for leadership would assert such affinity. The stories of Melanthos and Kodros focus on heroes and their heroic leadership in crisis and the salvation of the city assured by that leadership; the myths are also about the right to govern Athens, a right won but also rightly conceded by the Athenians. The Neleid myths could thus be politically profitable for aspirants to power, for by implication descendants of the Neleids would seem just as effective in leading—and so just as worthy of governing—as their forebears had been.8 A claim to Neleid ancestry was particularly helpful to Peisistratos the outsider, for, though the Pylians of the myths had come new to Athens, they had proven themselves by their deeds.The Athenians undoubtedly entertained and perhaps even encouraged, if they did not actually expect, such assertions of pedigree, since Melanthos and Kodros were model rulers whose chief benefit to their subjects was the security they had bestowed upon the city: reincarnations of these would obviously be most welcome in insecure times. Neleid propaganda, the rekindled memory of the benefits they brought, and the implication of what their descendants could also bring about must have been particularly potent, especially during the long, drawn out, and bitter war with Athens’ neighbor Megara.

B. “Mycenaeans” in Eastern Attika Does the claim that the Peisistratids were descended from immigrants from Pylos hold any truth? Herodotos’ notice of the Neleid-Peisistratid



, ,  

connection does nothing to substantiate it, nor, for that matter, does it imply of itself that the Athenians accepted it. For his part, Herodotos (or his source) could have introduced the “tradition” into the report about the Peisistratids merely as an aetiological prop for rationalizing the tyranny. Blood ties to mythic Athenian monarchs helped logically to explain to Herodotos’ fifth-century audience why the Peisistratids came to be tyrants.9 In view of such circumstances, it might be argued that the Peisistratid “tradition” of Neleid descent was invented by Herodotos or his sources and so possessed no real substance or validity.10 If, however, the Neleid-Peisistratid connection is weighed in light of the mythic tradition of late Bronze Age immigration to eastern Attika and, more substantially, of the archaeological record of the region, which tends to support that tradition, there is in fact a reasonable possibility that the Peisistratidai and perhaps other inhabitants of eastern Attika around Philaïdai had actually descended from “Mycenaeans” or, at least, from fugitives from the Mycenaean Peloponnesos, who fetched up in the region near the end of the Bronze Age.11 The presence of the latter in the neighborhood of Brauron and Philaïdai through the early eleventh century ... is confirmed by material remains there.Although the fugitives cannot be readily identified as either “Pylian” or “Neleid” from those remains and no Pylians are specified in the migration myth, the evidence of late Bronze Age habitation of the region is secure and could be taken to support the Peisistratid claim to “Mycenaean” forebears.12 According to myth, the migration to Brauron was Salaminian led, but the Athenians seem to have been able to accept that the Pylians were in the initial group of fugitives, arrived later, or at least were somehow involved.13 The Athenians could allow for such inconsistencies, choosing to believe what they wanted about the myth and the region’s connections. Such allowance is certainly in line with the way the Athenians treated other parts of even their much less remote “history.”14 Philaïdai, the deme (village, town, township) of the Peisistratidai, was situated very near the ancient temenos (precinct) of Artemis at Brauron on the east coast of Attika (cf. figs.  and ).15 According to Athenian myth, the deme was named for the son of Salaminian Aias, who was said to have settled in eastern Attika after leaving that island in the generation after that of the Trojan War.This period,Thucydides says, was one of general turmoil and stasis in Greece leading to mass migrations; the cession of Philaios and Eurysakes of the island to Athens and the movement of the former to Brauron fits this context.16 Philaios became the eponymous

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of the Philaid genos, the members of which apparently dwelt in the same deme as the Peisistratids.17 Around the temenos of Artemis at Brauron,very near Philaïdai,are vestiges of Mycenaean habitation and graves which include objects of Late Helladic IIIB (ca. – ...) date.18 It is near Perati, a few kilometers south along the coast from Brauron, however, that there is an extensive late Mycenaean cemetery, whose contents indicate that a sizable number of “Mycenaeans” immigrated hastily and settled in the vicinity, remaining until some time during the Submycenaean period (ca. – ...), when the cemetery went out of use.19 The fact that there was considerable settlement of late Mycenaeans very proximate to Philaïdai ca.  ... further supports (but obviously does not prove) the claim of the Peisistratids to Pylian (i.e., Mycenaean) ancestry.20 Although the Perati necropolis was finally abandoned and perceptible Mycenaean cultural indications vanish in the area by the mid- to late eleventh century ..., the persistence of the cult of Artemis at Brauron points to continuous settlement proximate to the precinct through the Dark Ages. While there are material indications of cult activity at the shrine of Artemis no later than the tenth century ..., that is, perhaps within a century of the abandonment of the Perati cemetery, it is the cult itself that bears testimony to continuous habitation around it.21 Some of the cult’s more primitive features (e.g., bear dancing) should be dated no later than the Neolithic period and their survival points to an unbroken line of local worshipers through to the Classical period.22 To have survived, these cult features must have been passed down through the late Bronze Age people of the area and their descendants, who and whose progeny, however few or many they were, became the cult’s indispensable intermediary transmitters.23 Direct involvement of Mycenaeans in the cult of Artemis of Brauron is signaled by their physical presence on the site in LH IIIB. It is less directly indicated by its special ties to the hero Agamemnon, the most powerful of all Mycenaean kings for later Greeks. At Brauron, the so-called tomb of Iphigeneia, where Agamemnon’s daughter was said by Euripides to have been interred, hints at a religious (and political?) association of Mycenaeans with the Artemis cult during the late Bronze Age.24 Although perceptible Mycenaean cultural traces vanish in the region by ca.  ..., survival of Artemis worship at Brauron, with its Neolithic aspects and the memory of Iphigeneia, is explained by the persistence of worship and so habitation of Bronze Age Greeks (i.e., Mycenaeans). Material re-



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mains from the tenth century in the vicinity of the temenos point to the conclusion that the cult was maintained through the late Bronze and Submycenaean periods by worshipers who dwelled near Brauron. Philaïdai was the closest deme site to the Artemis temenos at Brauron: in fact, in the deme arrangement of Kleisthenes, Brauron was subsumed within Philaïdai.There can be little doubt that the inhabitants of Philaïdai were implicated in the worship of Brauronian Artemis, whose temenos was mere hundreds of meters from the deme site.This implication is demonstrated in the scholion to Ar. Aves :“The Myrrhinousians name Artemis ‘Kolainis,’ just as the people of the Peiraios [call her] ‘Mounichia,’ and the people of Philaïdai [call her] ‘Brauronia.’”25 This testimony not only implies the close physical proximity of Philaïdai to Brauron but also that the cult was controlled by Philaïdai. If transmission of the cult from the Bronze Age depended on continuous cult involvement, then it is reasonable to assume that at least some of the land adjacent to Brauron possessed inhabitants without substantial interruption from the late Bronze Age.The obvious candidates for such cult involvement are the inhabitants of Philaïdai and its environs.The Athenian memory of Mycenaeans settling in eastern Attika and at Brauron and of Brauron’s proximity to Philaïdai would have supported the claims of the inhabitants of Philaïdai to Mycenaean ancestry. On appearances, the Peisistratidai, who dwelled initially at Philaïdai, were themselves specially implicated with the cult of Artemis Brauronia. Introduction of it to Athens is attributed to them, which, if true, suggests at the very least a particular interest in and patronage of it, since at the time of the introduction the cult had really only local significance and could produce no political dividends immediately at Athens.26 Indeed, the Peisistratids’ interest in the cult must have derived from its regional rather than its “national” significance at the time of its introduction to Athens. Presumably the Peisistratids hoped that it would take root among the Athenians. In fact, it did. From this special interest, it is tempting to assume a hereditary Peisistratid cult link to Brauronian Artemis, but that is to go too far. This association with the cult of Brauronian Artemis, whatever it may have been, does not answer the question of Mycenaean ancestry, since the Peisistratids could have been relative latecomers to the region. It certainly possible that the Peisistratidai, like other Athenian gene– , such as the Gephyraioi, moved to eastern Attika as immigrants, perhaps from Euboia, and settled in among the indigenes of the area sometime

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during the Geometric or Archaic periods.27 If that were so, the Peisistratids had even greater incentive to adopt the kind of myth that would mute or occlude their actual foreignness by emphasizing their kinship. It is to be noted, however, that, while several ancient sources allude to a Neleid background for the Peisistratids, no source makes them late immigrants to Attika, as, for example, Herodotos does the Gephyraioi. Such foreignness, one imagines, would certainly have surfaced somewhere and been made to stick to the Peisistratidai if they were in fact strangers (xenoi), especially by Herodotos, who notes other gene– coming late to Athens. It is to be further noted that no ancient source overtly rejects or denies either the standard Athenian version of the Neleid myths or the Peisistratid claim to Neleid origins.28 Yet that silence neither proves nor disproves the validity of the myths or the claim. Although it is possible that Peisistratids were actually descended from the Mycenaean immigrants to eastern Attika, the question will not be settled on the present evidence. That question is, in any case, overshadowed by our desire to comprehend the meaning of the Pylian link to the Athenians and to assess its political value for Peisistratos.29

C. Political Advantages of the Neleid Myths A closer look at the Pylian myths reveals specific advantages for Peisistratos and suggests Peisistratos’ more precise aims in advancing his claims to Pylian ancestry.30 According to the myths, when Melanthos came to Athens from Pylos, Attika was under attack by Boiotians. Their king, Xanthos,proposed to settle things by single combat.Thymoetes of Athens, the last descendant of Theseus, offered to hand over his domain to anyone who would fight Xanthos. In so doing, he showed himself to be both cowardly and ineffectual and so no longer fit to rule.Although newly arrived from Pylos, Melanthos, the son of Neleus, took up the challenge and defeated and killed Xanthos. In so doing, he ended the invasion and saved Athens. The Athenians concluded that Melanthos was much the better man for the job than Thymoetes and so affirmed him as king.The last Theseid was thus replaced by the immigrant Neleid, who had simultaneously displayed courage, leadership, prowess in battle, and above all effectiveness. Because of these qualities, which he had translated into victory, and what they augured for the future, Melanthos was invested with the monarchy. He had demonstrated by taking up the challenge and then through combat that he was the best man for the job.

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, ,  

It is to be noted that Melanthos did not acquire the throne of Athens by taking it forcibly, through subterfuge, usurpation, or otherwise illegitimately or even obliquely. Rather he became basileus by the consent of the Athenians after demonstrating heroic and kingly capacities. Melanthos’ arrival during a crisis provided him an opportune moment, and he seized it.31 His son, Kodros, confirmed Neleid nobility and aptitude for rule when, learning by prophecy that Athens would be saved if its king were killed, he sacrificed himself and preserved the city from destruction once again, this time at the hands of the Dorians of Megara.32 His younger son, Neleus, the namesake of the dynasty’s founder, subsequently led a successful emigration to Miletos, further demonstrating the genos’ capacity for effective leadership in crisis.33 The Neleid myths were surely not inventions of the later seventh century ..., as some have argued, but part of Athens’ preservation mythology set in and most probably datable to around the Late Bronze Age.34 It was the kind of myth that was spawned during or after the difficult times of threat and real insecurity, when the author(s) and the beneficiaries of the myth were still very anxious about their survival. The Pylians were saviors of Athens, ideal leaders at any time but desperately needed during times of invasion and threat to the polis. Presumably, the Athenians believed that descendants of the Neleids were capable of similar deeds because they possessed the blood of their ancestors and so similar traits and possibilities.The Athenians’ regard for such blood ties and the characteristics that they imagined descended from the original Neleids and would be evinced in their progeny will have encouraged the several Athenian claims of affinity to Neleids, especially from the later seventh century ... The people of Athens will have been apprehensive of invasion because of the Megarian war, especially after the Kylonian debacle and the Megarian occupation of the akropolis. The Megarian war did not spawn the Neleid myths: they had no authority or strength if merely concocted. Rather, the war and the late invasion of the Megarians provided a very good context for them and invited their republication. A Neleid ancestry accepted by the Athenians of the city would have benefited Peisistratos immensely, especially because the myths argued advantageously for the benefits brought by newcomers who would be leaders.35 Since Peisistratos came from Athens’hinterland,the Neleid tie made a case not only for ancient affinity to the Athenians but also for heroic age nobility, military potential, and, most importantly, very effective leadership.What more opportune time for Peisistratos to put forth such claims

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than after demonstrating “great deeds” and before aspiring to the strate– gia? The seizure of the akropolis by Kylon and his Megarian allies realized the unthinkable: it was what the Athenians appeared to have inveterately dreaded but what, according to their preservation mythology (and the archaeological record), others had never accomplished.36 How better could Peisistratos exploit the insecurities of the Athenians, still mired in a bitter war with Megara, than by referring their thoughts emphatically to an equally uncertain moment in the city’s past, which was resolved by another newcomer who just happened to be Peisistratos’ ancestor? (That explicit ties were made by the Peisistratids to Melanthos and Kodros is, of course, suggested by Herodotos’ testimony.) As the Neleid bloodlines were his, so was their promise also his.The myths of the Neleid Melanthos and Kodros were contextualized in crisis and resolution of crisis. Peisistratos’ claim to Neleid ancestry, which of course recollected the ancient crisis and its successful outcome, was obviously most effectively first employed by him around the time of his bid for leadership in the Megarian conflict, that is, before the establishment of his first tyranny.37 (As we shall see, there is other evidence suggesting further myth-manipulation attributable to Peisistratos at the time of the Megarian war [see section .E].) If the Neleid link were invoked again as part of Peisistratos’ campaign for the tyranny, it was perhaps differently emphasized.As part of a rhetorical effort to persuade the Athenians to grant power to Peisistratos, the myths’ implications were best deployed as arguments for aisymne–teia (elective monarchy). Herodotos informs us that such an election occurred when the Athenians handed to Peisistratos by vote the means to seize the tyranny, recollecting the “great deeds” he had done during the Megarian war (..). Monarchy was appropriate for Peisistratos because it was “spear won,” just as it had been for Melanthos. A further implication of the myth, however, was that, although the threat of foreign invasion may have abated, Athens’ further security and well-being devolved upon the hero who had resolved the crisis, just as it had upon Melanthos. Similarly, just as Melanthos had assumed the kingship and kept Athens safe, peaceful, and presumably prosperous, so should Peisistratos be accepted as basileus for similar reasons.38 The Neleid myths worked in other ways for Peisistratos.They not only featured the lone capable outsider who,after effecting Athens’relief,could lead it to greater things but also, by contrast, reflected upon the late ineffectiveness of other city leaders—the contemporary reflections of



, ,  

Thymoetes—who could not, would not, but, in any case, did not solve the crisis of the war and who thus disqualified themselves from leadership. By implication, these included the city aristocrats, some of them also claiming to be Neleidai, who were, every one of them, shown up by their inaction or failure to live up to the implications of their alleged bloodlines. In the absence of such effectiveness, any invoking of a Neleid link for these would have been quite counterproductive politically. It was obviously wrong, the myths implied, for the Athenians to continue to follow the ineffectual, just as it would have been in the time of Thymoetes, himself a descendant of the great Theseus. Thus, the Neleid link would have worked very well for Peisistratos campaigning for leadership after Nisaia, as it did before the victory there. That Peisistratos would have resorted to such persuasion to urge a tyranny is suggested by Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise to power in conjunction with other information about political conditions in Athens at the time, especially that offered by Solon. Herodotos shows that Peisistratos required the consent of the de– mos to his first tyranny and so needed to persuade it verbally. He did not seize and hold the akropolis forcibly, as Kylon had done and Isagoras would do later, but instead obtained from the Athenians leave to occupy it and so to possess the tyranny. Peisistratos was renowned for oratory, and a campaign for power involving persuasive speech fits right in with other Athenian politicians’ attempts to coax the de– mos with words.39 (Of course, after he was driven from Attika, Peisistratos resorted to force, but his accumulation of power became yet another means to persuade and many “men of the city” defected to him even before he applied that newfound power.)40 Further emphasis of the Neleid myths and his link to the Pylians as propaganda would have served Peisistratos very well before his first and second bids for tyranny, especially in the context of the persuasive oratory and political play we read of in Herodotos and Solon.41 A purported ancestral link with the immigrant Pylians helped also to strengthen belief among the Athenians of Peisistratos’ closer kinship with them, especially if the line of demarcation between urban and rural Attika was as vivid at Athens as it was elsewhere in Greece in the early sixth century ... and even later.Theognis of Megara,for example,characterizes rustics roaming around his polis as “down from the hills,” brutish and seemingly alien from other Megarians, while at Athens even in the late fifth century comic poets routinely made fun of the naive or rustic Athenian out of his depth in town.42 While Theognis surely misrepre-

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sents the truth of things, his words exaggerated by his own crabbed aristocratic sensibilities, his resentment could nevertheless reflect a prevalent attitude of disdain among Megarians as well as Athenian astoi for outlanders and rustics. Urban prejudice aside,“new people” implied change and new conditions. Presumably, as at Megara, those most resistant to newcomers at Athens will have also been those with the greatest interest in maintaining the status quo, that is, the old, landed and titled (aristoi). The Athenians in the early sixth century had ample reasons to distrust newcomers and those who dwelled “beyond the pale.”The prolonged war with Megara can only have heightened suspicions about new “friends.” By the same token, in the later stages of the war, Megara and Athens may well have been forced to accept these rather alien forces from “the hills” (so Theognis with regard to Megara) or from “beyond the hills” (so wrote Herodotos with regard to Athens) on their now depleted military rolls. That need could help explain both why the outlanders appeared in Megara and Athens when they did and why they were assimilated as Megarians and Athenians over the objections of aristoi and other conservatives like Theognis.The same military need for “new blood” might also help at least partially to account for the appearance of Peisistratos in Athenian history in the first place, his position as strate– gos, and his advancement to the tyranny.43 (I shall return to this later.) Publication of the Pylian link,rehearsal of the Neleid myths,and emphasis on their ramifications for Athenians in the early sixth century ... only helped Peisistratos to improve his chances for advancement among the Athenians. The Neleid myths and Peisistratos’ claims to descent from their heroes persuaded the Athenians that the newcomer was friend not foe, kin not alien, benefactor and leader not betrayer or ineffectual bystander.

D. Conclusions I have assumed that the Peisistratid claim to Neleid bloodlines was put forth first and most forcefully by Peisistratos himself, since he had the most to gain from advancing such a claim, before his strate– gia and again before his first tyranny.Whether the claim was substantive or not is impossible to say on the present evidence. It is just possible that the Peisistratidai were descended, however obliquely, from “Mycenaeans” who fetched up in eastern Attika at the end of the Bronze Age.The archaeological record affirms the arrival of Mycenaean refugees in eastern Attika near Brauron-Philaïdai during LH IIIC and points to the survival of their

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progeny in the vicinity through the Submycenaean period at the very least. Although the material remains of their settlement do not support the myth of Philaios’ settlement of Brauron, they do at least corroborate the Athenian traditions of Late Bronze Age migration to eastern Attika near Brauron. Habitation of these parts by Mycenaean fugitives, the association of Mycenaeans with the Artemis cult at Brauron, and the implication that cult worship of Brauronian Artemis persisted through the Dark Ages suggest that descendants of these did in fact survive in the area proximate to Brauron through to the Archaic Age and the time of Peisistratos.44 However that may be, because the political advantages of the Pylian myths for Peisistratos are very clear, we may confidently attribute both the introduction and further publication of the Peisistratid-Nelied link to the benefits these could earn for Peisistratos among the Athenians. Simultaneously, Peisistratos could assert affinity with Athenians but also with the larger than life patriotic heroes of the Late Bronze Age, Melanthos and Kodros.The myth implied that Peisistratos, like his ancestors, was an effective leader, a potential (then proven) victor, and a man worthy of monarchy by bloodline but also by deed.The triumph at Nisaia corroborated the asserted link for the Athenians, since it set the seal on further Megarian threats.That corroboration could then be turned into further profit for Peisistratos as part of his campaign to win the Athenians over to his tyranny, for it assured the Athenians that Peisistratos was in fact the right man to rule them. Certainly, because of his victory, the further publication of the Pylian link, which explained it and pointed toward a reward for Peisistratos, and because of its recollection of the heroic past and its vividness in the present, Peisistratos must have by now loomed larger as a public figure than any other Athenian. (He was not, we note, most powerful however.) The Neleid myths and Peisistratos’ war record comprised a very felicitous tandem for him seeking to win the Athenians’consent to rule them. It is to be noted that, even in a climate of general ill will toward the Peisistratids in fifth-century Athens, no skepticism was expressed about the claimed Neleid link. Herodotos, who might have criticized the tradition, accepted it without question. This even though he obtained his information from an intermediary Athenian source, which, in the climate of official hatred of Peisistratid tyranny in the fifth century, was presumably unfriendly to the Peisistratids, their accomplishments, and their “virtues.”45 There is in fact no evidence to suggest that the Athenians ever rejected the Peisistratids’ claim to Pylian ancestry.The more precise short-

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comings of the link were of no consequence: the Athenians collectively were more inclined to believe what they wished about their history in any case. For them, Peisistratos’ claims to Pylian ancestry were probably corroborated by his victories in the Megarian war.46

.         Very little seems to have been known about Peisistratos’ family, and that void of information afforded license for invention, even as Herodotos’ logos on Peisistratos’ rise shows. Herodotos’ story involving Hippokrates, the father of Peisistratos, is folktale.47 The mere name Hippokrates is attached to the principal to whom the Spartan sage Chilon has given no good choices. Hippokrates makes, as he must make, the wrong and fateful decision: the result is Peisistratos and tyranny for Athens. Simultaneously guilty and guilt free, Hippokrates is nevertheless highlighted right from the start in Herodotos as ultimately responsible for the tyranny. This “read” is perfectly in line with fifth-century attempts to explain the tyranny, especially why Peisistratos’ monarchy was unavoidable to the Athenians: this effort to explain is in fact quite apparent in Herodotos’ account.48 As one would expect from the nature of such a story, there is no further information about Hippokrates. From all indications, Peisistratos and his genos were unknowns before Nisaia; he was not of the old Athenian nobility but of the “new” men bred away from Athens and the Kephissian Plain. His earlier career appears to have progressed incrementally, smaller steps to larger, advancements leading to further advancements, adjustments made when necessary to continue progressing. Peisistratos arrived at Athens, perhaps not yet thirty, with outstanding military potential if not an already proven record. He nevertheless had to be put to the test and to demonstrate impressively and over time his military leadership before he could attain the strate– gia. A record of service and success was a prerequisite for high command, command for Nisaia, and Nisaia for the tyranny. Publicizing the Neleid link reminded the Athenians of his kinship and what it portended, but the dividends from that had to be predicated first upon command capability and then on military success. Whether Peisistratos was embarked on a path to attain the tyranny from before the time he arrived at Athens, before he was invested with the generalship, or even before Nisaia is not possible to say. Yet something must

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account for his coming to Athens and becoming involved in its affairs. It may be that, regarding the Megarian war, the Athenians’ failures, and his own abilities, Peisistratos arrived in Athens with fixed ideas of monarchy. However that may be, success in war was essential to his advancement and Peisistratos cannot reasonably have foreseen his real chances for tyranny before his victories, significant victories at that, were won. Nisaia was the watershed in Peisistratos’ earlier career and propelled him forward to seek the tyranny. It was the necessary ingredient for capitalizing on the Pylian link. From outsider to aspirant to tyranny because of his deeds, the parallels of myth and his career were apparently lost on neither him nor the Athenians.The final triumph over the Megarians ensured Athens’ security, especially with regard to Phaleron, and made Peisistratos popular among the Athenians. It was the real linchpin for any plans for tyranny: in fact, it paved the way to it. So significant was Nisaia that without it there very likely would not have been a Peisistratos to hear of, for he would have become just another failed, anonymous Athenian leader in the war and would have thus lacked the basis of popularity needed for obtaining and holding onto a monarchy.The consent of the de– mos was indispensable for any Athenian aspiring to political power at Athens, even in the early sixth century ...

.      A. Background to the Peisistratan Phase of the War . The Stakes and the Course of the War to the Late Seventh Century ... Peisistratos’ victory at Nisaia not only brought an end to the long, drawnout war with Megara, but assured Athens’ permanent ascendancy over its vanquished neighbor. Because of its gravity, it might seem curious that Herodotos’ reference to it is no more than an obiter dictum and that he elaborates no further upon it or Peisistratos’ other “great deeds” in the war (..).49 However, in mentioning this Herodotos was influenced by attitudes at Athens in the fifth century, which seem to have discouraged extensive, positive recollections of the tyrants.The record of Peisistratos’ successful military career in the Megarian war obviously fell victim to the filtration engendered by those attitudes, even though the victory at Nisaia was momentous for Athens.50 That Peisistratos scored such a victory

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is to be taken as factual, since Herodotos’ fifth-century Athenian source(s) would hardly have invented it or bestowed unearned credit on the tyrant.51 Later sources provide little additional information to help clarify exactly what Peisistratos did in the war. If anything, they complicate matters further, for example, by impossibly implicating him with Solon in the same struggle for the strategic island of Salamis.52 Aineias Taktikos in the Poliorke–tika, for example, describes two successful engagements of Peisistratos against the Megarians on a single day, first at Eleusis and then at an unnamed landfall in Megarian territory within sight of the city itself.53 His account, while interesting in points, is not really credible. Aspects of it that might seem prima facie plausible, for example, Peisistratos’ strategy in the two engagements, are in fact to be read as further facets of the topos of Peisistratos’ cleverness, an attribute attaching to the tyrant as early as Herodotos’ logos on Peisistratos’ rise.While portraying the tyrant in such a fashion may not have been Aineias’ main aim, it was almost certainly that of the source(s) on which he drew. In fact, much of what Aineias states, whether in his own words or another’s, appears fabricated. That is in fact no surprise when we compare his account with others of fourth-century ... (or later) authors that involve sixthcentury Athenian personages and their actions.54 At all events, the sum of our information about Peisistratos, the Megarian war, and its final action, the most significant event in Peisistratos’ early career—and in Athens’ history to the time—is again very little. Context alone remains to add to what may be known about what Peisistratos actually did (or could have done) in the Megarian war and about how it impacted the Athenians. The war began well before Peisistratos’ arrival on the scene, perhaps as early as the Late Bronze Age.Thucydides (..) characterizes most wars in Greece from earliest times up to his own as frontier conflicts, with belligerents seeking to expand their territories at the expense of their “neighbors.” He implies, of course, that border wars were inveterate and universal among Greek states.55 Thucydides’ characterization will have been based at least in part on his knowledge of Athens’ own wars, and the Megarian conflict fits right in with his pronouncement. Hostilities between Athens and Megara may be traced perhaps to the Dorian occupation of the Isthmus: some sense of this seems to be conveyed in the myth of Kodros.56 However, Thucydides (..) implies that Eleusis was incorporated into Attika even before that by the legendary Athenian king Theseus.While Thucydides knew of nothing to contradict his belief that

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Theseus synoecized Attika, including Eleusis, in that period, most modern scholars reckon that Eleusis became part of Attika much later, perhaps even as late as the early sixth century ..., and after prolonged fighting.57 At all events, Eleusis appears to have been taken in a hostile manner by Athens.58 Whatever the date of Eleusis’ first acquisition by Athens, it could not have been finally and fully incorporated into Attika or Athenian authority consolidated there until the Megarian war ended in Athens’ favor. Before that, its ownership was at stake in the conflict. Implicated desires for territory and security were, as they would always be among such “neighbors” in ancient Greece, the likeliest grounds for the conflict.59 Primarily in dispute between Athens and Megara was the border town of Eleusis and the agricultural region adjacent to it but also the island of Salamis. Eleusis was strategically positioned with respect to the Megarid, the Thriasian Plain, fertile and productive.Athens’ acquisition of Eleusis, whenever it occurred, brought it to the doorstep of the Megarid and undoubtedly provoked alarm and counterhostility by such Megarians as lived on this border.60 What must have fueled more general Megarian apprehensiveness, animosity, and reaction and perhaps led to a common response to the Athenian presence at Eleusis was the belief (blared by the Athenians?) that all of the Megarid belonged to Athens from of old.61 Salamis was key to controlling the sea lanes in the Saronic Gulf around the Megarian and Athenian ports. Possession of these lanes was crucial to the security and well-being of both Athens and Megara. Holding Salamis was vital, since its occupation seems also to have spelled the dominance of one over the other.62 Now the Athenians also claimed that Salamis was theirs from the Bronze Age.According to Athenian myth, the two descendants of Great Aias, ruler of the island, Eurysakes and Philaios, exchanged Salamis for land to settle in Attika. It has been observed that this is exactly the kind of Athenian propaganda myth one expects would be generated during the Megarian war as part of the effort to justify Athens’claim,since at best the myth is of dubious historic value.63 (We note Plutarch’s statement [Sol. .] that Solon introduced the story of inveterate Athenian ownership of Salamis as part of his special plea before the Spartan arbitrators.) On the other hand, the currently meager archaeological record we have from the island does suggest that Athens and Salamis had close ties from at least the Submycenaean period, and that evidence provides some substantiation for the myth.64 For all of that, Salamis remained an unintegrated part of Attika throughout its history. In the sixth century,Athenian armed settlers (kle–r-

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ouchs) were established on the island, and Kleisthenes did not include it fully in his reforms.65 Though held to be “Athenian” by the Athenians, Salamis was apparently considered a territory or an appanage rather than a true portion of the “oldest land of Ionia.”Talk about original Athenian ownership of Salamis was just that. (Spartan arbitration [Plut. Sol. ], which apparently came about later, merely confirmed what that Athenian victory at Nisaia had achieved: cf. section .E.) Although, for their part, the Megarians must have coveted Eleusis and Salamis from of old, their desires will have been stimulated by events occurring during the eighth century ..., especially those involving its neighbor Corinth. It has been estimated that, by the third quarter of the eighth century, up to two-fifths of the southern Megarid had been lost to the encroachments of the Corinthians. If that is true, it was catastrophic.66 Corinth’s annexation must be attributed to an expansiveness spurred on at least partially by Corinth’s need for land, since the city’s intensive colonizing effort began around the middle of the eighth century.67 Megara had been dominated by Corinth in the earlier Dark Ages, and, although Orsippos, a general of the Megarians in the late eighth or very early seventh century ..., had managed to wrest back some of the land cut off by neighbors—one imagines the Corinthians68—Megara could be no match over the longer run for Corinth, whose resources far outstripped Megara’s. There was therefore little hope that Megara could regain the land lost in the southwestern quarter of the Megarid;69 Megara had to look elsewhere for expansion.70 It was probably from the late eighth century that Eleusis and the Thriasian Plain became increasingly alluring. In addition to pressure from Corinth, Megara, too, seems to have had to deal with its own population, as its own colonialism suggests. According to the ancient evidence, Megarian colonies were established at Khalkedon, Selymbria, and Byzantion between ca.  and ca.  ...71 The foundation of these, all within the span of about a generation, implies that Megara had rather a sudden need to colonize the lands toward the Euxine. Obviously, Megara could afford to send Megarians in numbers substantial enough to control and exploit their constellation of colonies in the Propontian region and all within about three decades.72 Its colonies established, Megara had now ample reasons to covet both Eleusis and Salamis and so for engaging in war with Athens over them. The need for security of communication with Megara’s new colonies as well as the prospect of land for Megarians surely increased the desire to

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occupy Salamis.73 The Megarid itself appears to have been prey to incessant piracy from Salamis in any case, possibly beginning in the Bronze Age, and such attacks will have risen to greater frequency in proportion to the ship traffic to and from Nisaia.74 In addition to the strategic advantages Eleusis and Salamis could offer Megara in the Saronic Gulf, both could also supply land for settlers and so help to relieve population pressure closer to home.75 Necessity fanned desire, and it is a safe bet that if the long, drawn-out war between Athens and Megara had not begun before it was surely under way no later than the mid–seventh century ...76 The appearance of Theagenes, tyrant of Megara, around midcentury must be viewed against this backdrop: in fact, we may venture that Theagenes and his tyranny were products of crisis conditions, the preeminent of which was the war.We have nothing really explicit of Theagenes’ background except that according to Aristotle he slaughtered the flocks of the rich and became popular as a result. Later, because of his popularity, Theagenes asked for and obtained a bodyguard from the Megarians and so became Megara’s tyrant.77 References to Theagenes and his career derive from fourth-century sources and come under some suspicion for that. Indeed, they liken Theagenes and his rise both to Peisistratos of Athens and Dionysios I of Syrakuse. Aristotle is a credible source, however, and there are really no good grounds for rejecting his testimonies.78 Indeed, the rise of all three tyrants could have followed similar lines, causing them to be so grouped by Aristotle.Theagenes’ slaughter of the flocks of the rich, a dramatic gesture in an age of political extravagance by tyrants or would-be tyrants, was a political statement to be sure, one designed undoubtedly to help him gain popularity with the needier among the Megarians. But that design may have dovetailed with a more practical end. His gesture was also intended to show that Theagenes was capable of taking measures to deal with Megara’s problems, one of which apparently was the land’s inability to feed a population that for some time seems to have outstripped its resources. Cattle were a resource after all, and by slaughtering them Theagenes may have “nationalized” them to bestow upon the needy. In that light, if we take Theagenes’ slaughter as a persuasion of the de– mos, which in Athens, Solon assures us, comprised the have-nots,Theagenes’ request for a bodyguard may be understood as leading to a referendum on the tyranny, just as it did in the cases of Peisistratos and Dionysios.79 Aristotle supplies yet other important information about Theagenes, which has been inadequately appreciated. He categorizes Theagenes and

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the other two tyrants as polemikoiv, that is, “warlike.”80 The categorization identifies Theagenes as a war leader and, coupled with the fact of his tyranny, implies that he had gained some measure of success in war. This makes great sense in the context of Megarian history for the mid–seventh century ..., since, as we have seen, Megara was pressed on at least two sides by hostile neighbors. As Peisistratos had first won a victory over Megara and then achieved some popularity before he attained the tyranny, so is it reasonable to imagine that Theagenes did the same, earning popularity for distinguishing himself in war, most probably against the Athenians.Whatever he did as a prelude to his tyranny had to have been impressive for the Megarians, just as it had been for Peisistratos. While memorable in other ways, the slaughter of the flocks of the rich was not the recommendation for the tyranny that victory in war was, and of course Aristotle based his designation of Theagenes as “warlike” on something more than fancy.81 On the evidence, Theagenes, like Peisistratos, came to power because of his war record and the popularity that it generated. The primary problems confronting Megara in the mid–seventh century were land crisis, border insecurity, piratical threats from Salamis perhaps, and maintenance of communication and commerce with colonies in the Propontis. Salamis was key to solving many of these problems, and it is possible that Theagenes led the Megarians to a victory over the Athenians there, perhaps establishing partial or temporary Megarian control over the island.82 Salamis could then have become, in turn, a base from which Megarians could launch attacks on Athens’own port of Phaleron.83 Salamis taken entirely, the Megarians were in the best position to take and hold Eleusis, since Eleusis could be cut off from Athens by forces putting out from Salamis. If Eleusis was captured the Thriasian Plain, would also become Megarian.84 Salamis fell to the Megarians, we know, sometime in the seventh century, well before Solon roused the Athenians to take the island back, and its capture will have been every bit as impressive to the Megarians then as its recapture by the Athenians was to them later. Such a victory over the Athenians would have done much to earn Theagenes the assent of the Megarians to a tyranny. There is of course no explicit evidence for such a victory by Theagenes, but we do know that he was “warlike” and was certainly hostile to Athens later. Indeed, it was he who dispatched warriors to back Kylon’s attempt to establish his own tyranny at Athens. Along with Kylon’s partisans, these were to coerce the Athenians into accepting Kylon’s

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, ,  

rule—and, presumably Megarian domination of the disputed territories. The Kylonian coup was in fact a high-water mark of the Megarian war effort against Athens. Since it was Theagenes who supplied the real muscle for Kylon’s attempt, and so made it viable, the coup must have been undertaken primarily to secure Megara’s war aims. Indeed, Kylon had no real political basis among the Athenians, as we shall see. He was dependent on Theagenes and so should be viewed as the latter’s political creature.85 At all events, whatever Theagenes did as a prelude to his own tyranny, it occurred well before Kylon’s attempted coup, perhaps in the mid-s. Theagenes’ tyranny will have commenced not long after a notable victory. Literary sources imply that the Megarians and Athenians were at war from sometime before Kylon’s coup, that is, ca.  ..., to the Athenian victory at Nisaia ca.  ... Theagenes is to be associated with the phase of Megarian success in the third quarter of the seventh century.

 .        ,     ,               It is opportune here to introduce into discussion the attempted tyranny of Kylon of Athens, which can be viewed apart neither from the Megarian war nor from the context of Peisistratos’ entrance into Athenian affairs.86 Our sources tell us that Kylon was of the “ancient Athenian nobility” and an Olympic victor in the diaulos (double race) of  ...87 Seeking to parlay his prestige, both old and newly won, into a monarchy, Kylon set his sights on the tyranny and made his attempt at tyranny either in  or  ...88 Before his attempt, Kylon married a daughter of Theagenes, undoubtedly with a view toward obtaining the Megarian’s further support in his enterprise. In fact, it may well have been the other way around. In any case, Kylon’s father-in-law supplied him with a force of Megarian hoplites.89 With these and other adherents, Kylon seized the akropolis while the Athenians were outside the city, keeping the rural festival of Zeus Meilichios.90 When the Athenians learned what had happened, they rushed back into the city altogether (pande–mei) and laid siege to the akropolis, their emotions whipped up in the meantime by their own outrage and horror and Kylon’s specific enemies.91 After some time had passed with no quick end to the siege in view, most of the Athenians grew tired of it and turned the conduct of affairs over to the

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archons, that is, the Alkmeonidai, then politically ascendant in the city.92 Soon after, the Kylonian position became untenable and a bargain was struck. Kylon, his brother, and apparently the Megarians were allowed to depart unharmed;the hapless remainder on the akropolis were abandoned to its fates.93 As it is reported, the Alkmeonidai promised fair treatment to those who were left behind by the would-be tyrant and who were now sorely pressed by their own lack of food and water.The besieged accepted the terms offered and were to descend from their positions on the akropolis to undergo due process.To hedge their bets, however, the Kylonians secured a tether of suppliant branches to Athena’s altar there and clung to it as they came down. Strained or cut, the tether broke.The Alkmeonidai are said to have declared that the break was a sign that the goddess had forsaken the now helpless Kylonians, whom they began to stone. Some of these then took refuge at the altars of the Dread Goddesses (Semnai Theai) and were either dragged from them and killed or possibly were killed on or very near the altars.94 The slaughter of the Kylonians by the Alkmeonidai replaced one evil with a greater one in the eyes of the Athenians: the murderers became the objects of apparently far more loathing for their sacrilege than the Kylonians had for their seizure of the akropolis.95 Some time after the slaughter, the Alkmeonidai were convicted of slaughter (sphage–); those who were guilty and still living were exiled and the dead were exhumed and their bones cast beyond the borders of Attika. So ended the Kylonian affair. Its reverberations, however, went on for many years. Kylon’s attempt to seize and hold the akropolis when the Athenians were, most of them, away from the city was deliberate and hostile. The seizure had obviously been worked out in advance with Theagenes, all of course without the majority of the Athenians involved and obviously to their detriment. Kylon and Theagenes agreed upon the timing of the seizure, the size of the Megarian contingent and, of course, the quid pro quo, what Theagenes was to get for his assistance, certainly well before Kylon made his attempt. As to the timing of the seizure, Kylon is said to have sent to the oracle at Delphi and asked when he should seize the akropolis.The oracle replied that he should do so during the great festival of Zeus, which, according to Thucydides, Kylon took to mean the Olympic festival.The actual attempt occurred during the Diasia, when, Thucydides says, the entire populace was outside of the city.The reconstructed thoughts of Kylon, his misinterpretation of the oracle and sense

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that the Olympic festival was appropriate for him, an Olympic victor, all signify reconstruction and are to be regarded as such. In fact, that Diasia occurred in the spring and was celebrated by the entire populace outside the city; the Olympic festival occurred in August or early September, and there would be no general absence of Athenians guaranteed then. Clearly, Theagenes and Kylon had calculated that the task would be much easier and Kylon’s chances for achieving his aims far better if most of the Athenians were outside the city and if he presented them with a fait accompli upon their return.There was no mistake made about the timing.96 Kylon’s stealth indicates that he had some sense that the Athenians’ reaction would be adverse if he presented himself in any different way to them. He had utilized a moment of weakness, seizing the akropolis itself, and ensconcing himself in its near (if only temporary) impregnability; he confronted the Athenians, on their return from the countryside, with the reality of his occupation of that formidable rock in force; and he could afford some time to wait out the Athenians. Presumably, Kylon and Theagenes had reckoned that any resistance, if it came at all, would be short-lived. Perhaps Kylon thought that his standing and prestige as Olympic victor would speak for him and win over the Athenians at length. Whether these were among his thoughts and his calculations, Kylon was only partially successful. Most of the Athenians did tire of the siege after a short time and went back about their business.What Kylon failed to reckon on, however, was the resolute opposition of a core led by the Alkmeonidai, who had rallied popular opinion against him and his followers initially, who remained steadfast in their opposition to his rule, and who refused to call off the siege.Their dogged opposition to Kylon may have decided the minds of the many or, perhaps more likely, simply interfered with Kylon’s plan to wait for consent from the majority, who may have acquiesced to Kylon’s tyranny over the longer run. Of course, it is no surprise that those who were most opposed to Kylon were the very ones who must relinquish power should he succeed. Kylon’s fundamental mistake, it appears, was to attempt to impose a tyranny dispensing with any process involving persuasion or the consent of the Athenians but including a hostile alien force occupying the polis. In short, Kylon did nothing to convince the Athenians of the rightness of his rule, and, in view of the fact that there are no signs whatsoever of his popularity among the Athenians, this was his biggest mistake. Unlike Peisistratos at Athens or even Theagenes at Megara, Kylon had no impressive record of “great deeds”: his recommendations were his Olympic victory

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and his aristocratic standing.There is nothing about heroism, leadership, or patriotism in the great patriotic war. Thus, Kylon had not garnered and could not garner the crucial popular support he needed both to attain and then maintain power. He stood no chance of reigning once the Alkmeonidai sat down around the akropolis. The presence of the Megarians surely set the final seal on the attempt, literally alienating Kylon from any constituency that might have remained to him.97 The Megarians were, after all, the Athenians’ inveterate enemies, Dorians, whose presence polluted the akropolis.The Athenians must have felt the Megarian occupation of the akropolis to be intolerable; presumably, they deemed Kylon a traitor for introducing them into the city and onto the sacred citadel.98 Although reaction was almost surely enflamed by the rhetoric of Kylon’s opponents, the fact of the occupation by a Megarian force, an unprecedented military disaster to be sure but a terrible psychological one to boot, surely accounts for the immediate, vehement popular opposition. Preservation myth taught the Athenians that such occupation had never happened:Kylon presented them with the unthinkable. For, while foreigners continued to occupy the akropolis, “Athens” was essentially obliterated.99 Megara’s profits from the establishment of Kylon’s tyranny are not difficult to comprehend. Simply put, Kylon would rule Athens in Megara’s favor.100 It may be that the Megarians with him were envisioned as a force of occupation, as the Spartans and others became much later, possibly to be reinforced or replaced by others over time.101 Perhaps these warriors were the vanguard of Megarians who would actually settle among the Athenians as Kylon’s (or Theagenes’?) minions. Of course such a design, coupled with an unpopular tyranny, would have no hope for any longevity, even as the lifespans of the Spartan-backed regimes later were very short-lived. In any event, once tyrant, Kylon would presumably do little to interfere with Megara’s further designs upon Eleusis and Salamis, allowing these either to fall completely to or remain under Megarian control.102 He would certainly not advocate Athenian action against his father-in-law, and of course his successor would be the grandson of Theagenes.103 Megara stood to gain much by Kylon’s accession, and Theagenes, in making the marriage alliance, must have calculated at least some of these results before he backed Kylon’s bid for power. Really, what could he lose? If Kylon failed, Megara and its interests would not be greatly affected.104 In fact, though Kylon failed, because of the upshots of the Kylonian affair, Megara appears to have profited from it.

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Athens, on the other hand, emerged from the affair demoralized, riven, and finally leaderless in the war. The capture of the akropolis not only overturned the security of the preservation mythology, Athens’ ideology about the polis’inviolability,and so deeply injured the Athenians’psychology, but it also revealed Athens’ very real vulnerability. The very “city,” which the Athenians believed had never been taken, had fallen rather easily to the Dorians. To make matters worse, it could happen again, especially in view of the Kylonian crime.The general fear and rage created by the seizure of the akropolis may have spurred the Alkmeonidai furiously to slaughter the remaining Kylonians,thinking—if they thought at all—that they could get away with it. If that was the case, they were dead wrong. Kylon’s seizure of the akropolis evoked emotions that were turned back on the slaughterers once they had perpetrated their crime. The slaughter had polluted the altars and implicated the gods in the affair: the Athenians seem to have believed that the Alkmeonid crime invited divine retribution. If the Megarians came again, they would come with the gods on their side and Athena would not hold her hands out over the city.We can only sense the atmosphere of doom that must have pervaded the minds of the Athenians in the aftermath of the sphage– .105 In the wake of the slaughter, along with this demoralization and fear, were anger, recrimination, and divisiveness.The Athenians were revulsed by the Alkmeonidai and what they had done. Of course, such feelings had to have been greater and more pronounced nearer in time to the commission of the crime.106 In fact, it would seem that what followed the Kylonian affair affected the Athenian war effort against Megara fundamentally, as we shall presently see. The Alkmeonidai were obviously enemies of Theagenes and Megara at the time Kylon attempted his coup: because they were in power as archons during a period of hostility with Megara, they are reasonably to be identified as leaders of the general resistance against the Megarians during the war. The outrage committed by Alkmeonidai archons nevertheless provided opportunities for their enemies, who now saw a chance to profit from their crime and the weakness it had created and to deal them out of Athenian politics. We do not know the sequencing of events after the Kylonian crime or precisely how long it was before the Alkmeonid perpetrators of the sphage– were tried formally (if they were) and then exiled.The author of the Ath.Pol., whose source was probably an Atthis, a local chronicle of Athens, and Plutarch, whose source for the Kylonian affair could have been the same, imply that time enough had passed for some of the guilty

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to have died.107 (Thucydides, who mentions that the polluted were driven out during the Spartan intervention under Kleomenes, implies the same inasmuch as the second expulsion entailed exhumation and its rituals would presumably resemble those involved with the first.)108 It is at least plausible that the Alkmeonidai, however hated they had become in the aftermath of the Kylonian crime, did not immediately relinquish their grasp on the political power they so stubbornly defended and were not instantly driven from the city for their crime. As war leaders, the Alkmeonidai may not have been damned by the Athenians until further military setbacks occurred that could then have been portrayed by their enemies as fruits of their pollution. Plutarch states that stasis resulted from the Kylonian affair, that it lasted for some time, and that,“the Megarians taking advantage of the turmoil,” the Athenians lost Nisaia and were “driven out of Salamis again.”109 Of course, Plutarch’s testimony is questionable because it is late and somewhat confused (especially with regard to Nisaia), but it is possible that things did occur along these lines and that the loss of Salamis was attributed to the pollution of the Alkmeonidai.A time between crime and punishment and events within it that were disastrous for the Athenians, in particular, a defeat in battle against the Megarians and subsequent loss of Salamis, would explain what evidence we have and why the living were punished with exile but the dead exhumed. There is some further evidence for a hiatus in the war involving Salamis beginning with its loss to the Athenians. It derives from a curious, quite problematic passage in Plutarch’s Life of Solon (.). In it, Plutarch supplies context for Solon’s famous poem Salamis: “When those in the city, having been involved in a long and difficult war with the Megarians over Salamis, were worn out with it, they made a law prohibiting anyone to advocate by written word or speech that the city contend again for Salamis on pain of death.”110 Solon,it is said,took this very badly and devised a way around it. His device, feigned madness, then became the means for his recitation of Salamis, a poem advocating exactly what was prohibited, that is, going to war with Megara over the island (Frs. – West).111 This “law” has been held in great suspicion, with Solon’s feigned madness and even the venue of the agora taken to be quite implausible.112 However that may be, the poem itself, rather than what Plutarch says about it, dating to the late seventh or very early sixth century ..., must be the bedrock for any reconstruction of its context.We must rely on it certainly in the first instance.

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, ,  

At a minimum, the poem corroborates the notion that Athens lost Salamis, that the loss was sometime in the past relative to the time of Solon’s recitation, and that, by the loss, the Athenians had been rendered somehow incapable of mounting any offensive to gain the island back in the meantime. In the extant fragments of Salamis, Solon mentions the “difficult disgrace” (calepovn tÆ ai\sco~), which, along with his coinage Salamivnafevtai (Salamis abandoners), indicates that Salamis was either let go by or wrested forcibly away from the Athenians.113 Thoughts of disgrace are very prominent in the poem: Solon’s words are in fact very similar to those of Kallinos (F. ), who attempted to rouse the young men of his city to war after defeat. Obviously the Athenians were quiescent when Solon thought that they should be active. Plutarch offers plausible supplementation to the poem,saying that Solon was motivated to act from indignation at the disgrace but also because he saw many young men itching to begin the war again. Now Plutarch may well have had much more of Salamis before him than we do,and those parts may have comprised the basis for his statements with regard to Solon and Salamis.The author of the Ath.Pol., who,like Plutarch, had more of Solon’s corpus, seems to concur with Plutarch that a good deal of time had passed between what happened to Salamis and Solon’s poem.114 All of this makes a good deal of sense: Solon was addressing primarily young men,exhorting them to war against Megara for Salamis,something they and the Athenians obviously were not engaged in and had not been engaged in for some time. If, as seems the case, Solon’s exhortation occurred around the end of the seventh or the beginning of the sixth century ..., and if we may assume that a whole generation of young men had not seen combat with the Megarians at the time of the recitation, then it is surely reasonable to think that the Athenian loss of Salamis occurred outside of a generation earlier or around the time of Kylon’s coup. If that is so, then the Athenians will have sustained the kind of defeat that essentially deprived them of the ability to fight, that is, a loss affecting a generation. That, too, fits Solon’s words.115 It is the kind of defeat that would constitute a sea change in Athenian affairs and sweep those charged with it (the Alkmeonidai) right out of power. It would be then, too, that the “pollution” would have become an explanation for the grievous loss and a cause for fighting no more against the god’s will. I offer the following reconstruction. Rather than recoil from the suppression of Kylon’s revolt, under the leadership of Theagenes, the Megarians took advantage of the fear, confusion, and divisiveness prevailing in

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Athens—the stasis to which Plutarch alludes—following the Kylonian slaughter.116 The consternation at Athens opened the door for Megarian aggression with regard to Salamis and Eleusis. Such aggression may have been met at length by the Athenians in force, led by the Alkmeonidai. Perhaps the latter staked everything on a victory to reverse their worsening political fortunes and the growing belief among the Athenians that they were all cursed as long as the Alkmeonidai governed.Whoever led the Athenians,the Megarians inflicted a crushing defeat on them and took Salamis. So bad was the defeat that the Athenians wanted to suppress it in their collective memory, just as they suppressed other painful collective memories.117 Now any Athenian taking the field after the Kylonian affair was already enfeebled by the demoralization caused by religious scruples but also by the rhetoric of enemies of the Alkmeonidai. Any defeat would have provided the enemies of the Alkmeonidai with all they needed to get rid of them and install themselves.This,however,was a stunning defeat.We can imagine that these enemies charged the slaughterers of the Kylonians and their pollution with the defeat: the gods had made it so. Further hostilities with Megara over Salamis were doomed and should cease, they would urge. The gods were punishing the Athenians for the pollution; let the perpetrators, even those who had fallen in battle and were buried, be expelled, and let there be no more talk of Salamis or the war with Megara! To sum up, as public opinion turned against the Alkmeonidai, so did it turn against those apparently most opposed to the Megarians.The living Alkmeonidai implicated were thus exiled some time after the Kylonian affair, very possibly in the wake of military defeat following the sphage– , to be replaced by opponents who did not prosecute the war effort, especially entailing recovery of Salamis. An Athenian “party” reactionary to the Alkmeonidai, a group or cabal that is likely to have been less proMegarian than it was opportunistically anti-Alkmeonid and ready to profit from the Alkmeonid fall from power, will have helped to channel public opinion against the “polluted” but also against the war. The two were certainly implicated.118 In so doing, these opportunists harnessed adverse public emotion, which the polluted had aroused by their actions against the Kylonians and, I am assuming, because of the ensuing catastrophic defeat in the field.119 Megara’s work had been done for it by the divisiveness of the Athenians: the “peace” party saw to that. That shortly after their accession and such a defeat the new leaders would have introduced a law to stifle further advocacy of war with

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Megara over Salamis and that the Athenians would have approved it en masse is by no means hard to believe, especially if the introduction of the law were made in the wake of the great defeat and the complete loss of the island.The same kind of interdiction, voted by the Athenians altogether, is to be found in their later reaction to Phrynichos’ The Capture of Miletos in  ..., his commemoration of the failed Ionian revolt, and the destruction of Athens’ great colony, Miletos. Performance of the play, or rather the reminder of something so very painful, caused such an uproar and evoked such emotional response from the Athenians that they forbade it by law ever to be performed again and fined its author quite severely. The emotion of the moment created a consensus for censorship. Sorrow for Miletos and their kindred there was surely partially responsible for this revulsion; but fear for themselves, the fact that the Athenians imagined the same or worse for the city, must have dominated their emotions.The interdiction on the play’s performance was for the present and future not the past, and, we imagine, talk about Miletos’ fate was also suppressed. Thus, while the Athenian reaction to Phrynichos’ play may have had practical purposes, it certainly had psychological ones. Banning memory of Miletos’ fall and the play’s performance was after all an apotropaic exercise.120 In the case of the loss of Salamis,similar emotions could well have played right into the hands of those who founded their political positions on platforms of nonbelligerence toward Megara and silence about the war and Salamis. One must not talk about what could only bring further pain, suffering, and possibly worse, that is, Salamis, the defeat or the war. It is ironic indeed to think that Theagenes and the Megarians got most of what they wanted presumably from Kylon’s imagined success precisely as a result of Kylon’s actual failure.The Athenians were weakened by the shock of events, first stunned by the akropolis’ occupation, then revulsed by the sacrilegious murders on the altars of the Semnai Theai, and finally defeat in a battle against the Megarians. They were surely apprehensive and fearful about what would happen next. Athens’ anti-Megarian war leaders were replaced with others more passive to Megara but interested, above all, in maintaining their own newly obtained power. These were concerned to clamp down on any troublemaking warmongers who might imperil their own hold on Athens.As the Spartans knew only too well that going to war involved unforeseen possibilities for disaster, so did these new Athenian leaders seem to realize that their power was best served by quietude and conservatism. It remained for Solon to rekindle Athenian enthusiasm for the war with Megara.

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.      Those who profited politically from the Kylonian massacre maintained their power for more than three decades (i.e., from ca. – ... to around the time of Solon’s successful plea for renewing the war for Salamis, ca.  ...). If there was a law prohibiting mention of Salamis, an actual treaty or truce with Megara, or simply a de facto policy of nonaggression, these were effectively repealed when the Athenians renewed hostilities with the Megarians.A new regime,pro-war in sentiment, replaced the appeasers.121 Solon’s political fortunes must be linked to this new group, at least early on, since, in addition to Salamis, the sentiments of which prove his pro-war stance, Solon is said to have become war leader of the Athenian army subsequent to the poem’s publication. Such a role is by no means unreasonable.122 Though we do not know if Solon spoke of it in any of his other poems, the only reliable information about the times and their events, the extant fragments of Salamis, amount to a bid for war leadership and, regardless of the venue in which they were spoken, imply that Solon aspired to become the war leader of the Athenians.123 Solon’s words in the poem are hortatory; his tone is bellicose. He obviously means for the Athenians to follow him to war.124 Political and military leadership were thoroughly implicated in Athenian history up to the fourth century, and the Athenians’ grant of a special commission to Solon later implies that he had accomplished something outstanding and obviously patriotic.That commission made him dictator in effect.125 Although the information we have about Solon’s leadership in the conflict for Salamis from later sources is garbled, it supports the assumption that he actually got what he wanted and became strate– gos in the conflict.126 If Solon did attack the Megarians on Salamis and achieve success there, as seems likely, his victory was yet incomplete or short-lived, for Salamis had either lapsed again into Megarian hands or was in danger of doing so when Peisistratos entered the war. In point of fact, we know nothing of the nature of Solon’s actions or achievements regarding Salamis other than to infer at least a partial victory there.127 According to Plutarch’s sources, Peisistratos participated in the same phase of the Megarian war as Solon, but such a synchronism is impossible. They cannot have been co-commanders in the war, for Solon’s leadership had to have occurred, by all reckoning, before his archonship and special commission, which must have been no earlier than – ...128 Some

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scholars place Solon’s involvement in the Megarian war as early as around  ... on the basis of Plutarch’s arrangement of events,although it must be said that the latter’s “chronology” promotes little confidence even in its approximate validity.129 Solon’s special commission, with its comprehensive authority, is to be linked to his archonship, and that date may be accepted as secured by the Athenian archon list. It also provides a terminus ante quem for Solon’s part in the war with Megara. Peisistratos’year of birth cannot really be placed earlier than ca. ..., and so he could not have been a commander really before ca.  ... For ancient authors, such as Herakleides Pontikos, who owed nothing to historical objectivity but desired instead the serendipity of bringing Solon and Peisistratos together, affiliation of the two in the same phase of Athens’ great patriotic conflict was far more attractive than its chronological impossibility was prohibitive.The coupling of Solon and Peisistratos in the struggle for Salamis was wrought from chronological insouciance and the simple desire to implicate the two most famous Athenians of the time in the same phase of the Megarian war.130 It is to be noted that the author of the Ath.Pol (.) observed the chronological problem and disowned the association of Solon and Peisistratos in the Megarian war.131

B. Peisistratos’War Leadership Herodotos says that Peisistratos held the strathgivh (war leadership) in the Megarian war and that he led the Athenians to victory at Nisaia.The statement has stirred a certain measure of controversy. Some scholars have assumed that Herodotos anachronized use of the word strathgivh, since that office came into being only with the reforms of – ... (Ath.Pol. .), that is, well after the tyranny: its meaning here is therefore unclear. Others, however, have posited a pre-Kleisthenic strate– gia precisely because Herodotos uses the word here; still others have taken it that strate– goi will have been appointed as required but were not regularly elected.132 The controversy seems to be overstated, for it is unreasonable to attach constitutional ramifications involving the pre-Kleisthenic military of Athens to Herodotos’ use of the word strathgivh in this instance. Herodotos does not appear to be concerned with Athens’ offices—or any other Greek ones, for that matter—when he terms Peisistratos a strate– gos: he is certainly not when he names several Persian commanders of the sixth century as holders of strate– giai.133 It is seems far more likely that, as in the case of the Persians, Herodotos merely seeks to designate Peisis-

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tratos “war” or “army leader,” whether he was officially titled strate– gos or something else.134 He means to imply that Peisistratos was overall commander at Nisaia. Peisistratos’ precise title is of little consequence in relation to what he actually did during the war. Clearly, as he was credited with the victory at Nisaia,so did he lead Athens’army as its supreme commander on that occasion. Herodotos tells us further (..) that the Athenians recalled Peisistratos’ “great deeds” (megala erga) in the Megarian war at the time they voted him a bodyguard.They were undoubtedly prompted to do this by Peisistratos himself at the time he asked for the bodyguard. Earlier in this chapter, I suggested that the Peisistratid-Neleid link was publicized by Peisistratos in order to help him acquire leadership of the Athenians, first in war and then in peace. Fitness for command in crisis, success in war, and aptitude for leadership in peace are all primary “messages” of the myths of Melanthos and Kodros. The optimum time for Peisistratos to have publicized these myths first was before he took command in the Megarian war, emphasizing for the Athenians that his ancestors, though from outside of Athens, saved the city from Dorians once long ago.The implication was that, as their apt descendant, he would do so again. Peisistratos’ target audience in this first instance was undoubtedly those Athenians most involved in the Megarian war. They were meant to be impressed not only by the myths’ argument for Peisistratos’ fitness for command but also their prediction that complete victory was at hand. There are in fact several grounds for believing that the Athenians fighting the Megarians were Peisistratos’ first constituents and the ones who made him strate– gos. First, it is reasonable to assume that Peisistratos did not simply take supreme command upon arrival at the front but was accepted as a leader only after proving his prowess in battle.This is actually suggested by Herodotos’ mention of Peisistratos’ other “great deeds”: a string of successes leading to the generalship is implied.These deeds were observed in the first instance and their impressiveness gauged by the Athenians in the field. Second, as elsewhere in Greece, the army surely chose its own leaders and, especially at this stage of the war, will have favored commanders with superior field records. Finally, when Peisistratos entered the city’s political arena he appears to have been shut out of the system there, having no effective city constituency to begin with. City bosses such as Megakles, the son of Alkmeon, would not have been instrumental in the earlier stages of Peisistratos’ career in acquiring the strathgivh: indeed, that ran counter to his own interests. Rather, as we

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shall see, the fact of Peisistratos’ success made Megakles a co-operative of the tyrant to be. The core of Peisistratos’ support for the generalship is likeliest to have been the Athenians fighting with him. They raised Peisistratos, an outsider, either by vote or acclamation, to the strathgiva and presented the city-politicians with a fait accompli. If this is so, then the strate– gia of Peisistratos might best be seen as a field promotion brought about by the emergency of the war and Peisistratos’ success in it.That actually makes a good deal of sense in view of Peisistratos’ distinction from and relative powerlessness before city politicians later. (The constituency that made Peisistratos a strate– gos could not have been the “men from the hills,” since, according to Herodotos, that faction did not yet exist. In fact, there are other reasons to exclude it, as we shall see in chapter III..A.) The most reasonable range of years for Peisistratos’ involvement in the Megarian war is ca. – ... (see appendices C and D). He was thirty ca.  and so is likeliest to have earned the strate– gia after that and to have won his victory at Nisaia nearer in time to the first tyranny (– ...). If we assume that no great time lapsed between the victory at Nisaia and Peisistratos’ first bid for tyranny, then the strate– gia and victory are best placed toward the mid-s. Of course, the war had been long and drawn out, and, as we have seen, there is reason enough to believe that Peisistratos worked his way up from inexperience in the war to command of the Athenians. This may actually have taken some time before the mid-s. It is not out of the question that Peisistratos arrived as a contingent commander, bringing with him some fighters from the mesogaia, Athens’ hinterland, replenishing the ranks of the Athenians of the city. Arriving with a contingent may have accelerated his rise through the ranks, since it made him outstanding right away and provided him with better chances for performing “great deeds” with his own constituency within the army. That contingent could not have been very many in number, however (see chapter II..D.). However that may be, it is highly unlikely that the Athenians fighting against the Megarians installed Peisistratos as supreme commander on his arrival. Rather, even if Herodotos had not mentioned Peisistratos’ great deeds in the Megarian war, a significant string of actions in which Peisistratos’ demonstrated his conspicuous abilities for war leadership must have led him to the primary strathgiva. These and Nisaia led, in turn, to Peisistratos’ tyranny.

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C. Megala Erga (Great Deeds) There is no specific information about what Peisistratos actually did leading up to Nisaia, but we can derive some ideas about his “great deeds” from their context. For the deeds to have been termed megala, for example, they would have to have been conspicuous and memorable. Rather than mere skirmishes, “great deeds” implies major actions and notable successes. Of course this is further implied by Peisistratos’ attainment of the strate– gia. The deeds should be associated with the actions that led up to the coup de grâce, not the other way around. Salamis and Eleusis will have to have figured in some way, since both were at stake during the war and both were vital for the Athenians to possess securely before an attack could be launched on the Megarian homeland.Targeting Nisaia suggests, in fact, that a broader strategy was in operation and along with it a campaign (or campaigns) that sought to secure preliminary objectives before the primary objective, the Megarians’ main port. Peisistratos’ megala erga must be thought of as among these preliminaries. Now, it is reasonable to assume that when the attack on Nisaia was finally made it was in concert with ships and after Salamis had been taken. Nisaia was the port of Megara, and it would have been extremely foolhardy for the Athenians to have ventured as far as Nisaia if Salamis were still in the hands of the enemy. Nearly the entire hostile island must then have been circumnavigated or marched around before an attack could proceed, Megarian corsairs could have shot at any time at the rear or on the flank of the Athenians, and the attacking force would have been forced to sail or march all the way back harrassed by hostiles.Such a land attack seems entirely out of the question, as we shall presently see.A long ship journey would not only have been extremely risky, but such an operation is a far cry from the lightning-type sea raids that our sources indicate occurred during the Megarian war.Without Salamis firmly under Athenian control, any attack on Nisaia would have been strategically unsound. Later authors indicate that Peisistratos participated in the recovery of Salamis, but their accounts are problematic.135 Some scholars have argued that Peisistratos could not have participated in the retaking of Salamis, since no mention of it is made by Herodotos and a victory on the island would have overshadowed Nisaia.136 This is an odd argument, indeed, conditioned as it is by a strange interpretation of Herodotos. It is, above

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all, quite to the contrary of what Herodotos implies when he mentions Peisistratos’great deeds:indeed,by specifying Nisaia but none of the other deeds, the historian suggests that the successful action at the Megarian port was Peisistratos’“greatest deed,” overshadowing all the others. By any strategist’s calculation, and certainly by what was achieved there, the taking of Nisaia was by far the most important of Peisistratos’ deeds since it dealt the death blow to the Megarian war effort. (I return to this later.) On the other hand, suppression by Herodotos’ sources (or by Herodotos) of Peisistratos’ part in reacquiring Salamis for Athens would be no surprise. Herodotos, or more likely his source(s), knew much more to attribute to Peisistratos during the war than was reported in the Histories. Aristotle, who classes Peisistratos among the other “warlike” tyrants (Pol. a), also seems to have had more information about Peisistratos and what he did obviously during the war than he cared to relate. Ancient Greek sources conflated the actions of Solon and Peisistratos with regard to Salamis. Some modern scholars have suggested that Peisistratos’ credit for conquering the island was made over to Solon in order to deprive him of it.137 While it is, after all, very difficult to unravel exactly who did what or was credited with what in antiquity (see section D.), it is far more unlikely that Peisistratos would have been connected at all with the conquest of Salamis had he nothing to do with it. (In fact, that Peisistratos was recalled at all for Nisaia in Herodotos is remarkable in view of Athens’ official hatred of the tyrants in the fifth century.) By the same token, it appears much likelier that credit for other actions against the Megarians, particularly involving Salamis, was made over to Solon, the revered sage of Athens, especially because of Solon’s famous connection with the island through his poem Salamis. At all events, securing Salamis was a primary objective for the Athenians during the Megarian war, and so it is quite on the cards that one of Peisistratos’ deeds was performed in relation to it. In fact, it is not too much to imagine that he was instrumental in the permanent recovery of the island for Athens. Eleusis, too, that disputed, forward position and gateway either to the Megarid or to Attika, had to have been Athenian before an attack on the Megarid could be made.There is some evidence that Eleusis also figured among Peisistratos’ megala erga, but the evidence for this is more problematic. Aineias Taktikos (.–) makes Peisistratos the leader of the Athenians when he learned that a Megarian raid on Eleusis was in the offing. He not only saved Eleusis but turned the Megarian attack back on itself. While Aineias’ testimony is unreliable, as we shall see, it stands to

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reason that Eleusis was subject to Megarian raids as long as the war continued. Like Salamis, securing Eleusis was a natural preliminary to any forward operation involving the Megarid itself, and Aineias’ connection of Peisistratos to it as war leader might be taken as a vague recollection of action Peisistratos was actually involved in there. At least, some ancient tradition placed him there during the war. Assaults from ships are plausible tactics to have been employed by either side during the war. For their part, the Megarians needed to do no more than man their ships and slip down the sound from Vourkhadi Bay, holding to the Megarian shore, to light upon the Eleusinians, killing and stealing what they could (fig. ).138 This was quick, easy, and lucrative, and far safer than marching overland to fight a pitched battle. Of course, the episode described by Aineias involving Peisistratos at Eleusis is conflated with a reciprocal amphibious Athenian raid at a landfall near Megara (fig. ) and, as we shall see, is most likely based upon Peisistratos’ reputation for cleverness.While Aineias’ story can be taken, at best, only vaguely to refer to any military action seen by Peisistratos at Eleusis during the Megarian war, it does give some idea about Eleusis’ exposure and vulnerability to Megarian attack during the war.139 A further reason why Eleusis had to be secured before Nisaia was that it could provide a base for a punitive Megarian counterattack on Athens.The merits of Aineias’ testimony aside, action involving Eleusis, whether the Athenians captured it from the Megarians or consolidated their hold on it, could certainly have figured among Peisistratos’ “great deeds” during the Megarian war. Naval operations described by Aineias and other authors are suggestive of the type of tactics that the Athenians and Megarians actually employed during the war. In fact, all the Athenian war activities of the early sixth century ..., whether attributed to Solon or Peisistratos, involved the use of ships and fighters who issued from them onto shore. It is therefore reasonable to think that the Athenians attacked the Megarians from their ships just as the Megarians attacked the Athenians from theirs. For an assault on Nisaia, Athenian naval strength had obviously to have reached some higher degree of strength and efficiency than before. If that is so and Eleusis and Salamis were secured, we may imagine some preliminary Athenian “hit and run” type raids, on the order of those Aineias attributes to the Megarians at Eleusis.As mentioned, these were quick, of lower risk and more profitable than full-blown warfare and the booty and slaves taken would have made them popular with Megarian and Athenian warriors alike. Peisistratos must have been in-

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volved in at least some of this type of naval warfare and must have distinguished himself in it. The capture of Nisaia itself suggests that the Athenians finally hit upon a strategy to win the war, the ultimate aim of which, no matter the extent of the plan, was the taking of Megara’s main port.This strategy could have been arrived at much earlier in the going or when the sites requisite for the attack on Nisaia (viz., Salamis and Eleusis) had come firmly under Athenian control.The first objective of any Athenian strategy during the war had to have been securing Attic lands and possessions in forward areas. Second,Athenian naval strength had to be built up to a greater degree than before, the ships organized to fight together, and their crews drilled to such an extent as would make them capable of a successful landing at and attack upon Megara’s port.Third, someone had to grasp the fact that the key to ending the war was Nisaia and so to have observed that Megara depended on its port as its lifeline.140 In fact, it must have taken someone who looked with fresh eyes at a war that had gone on for years inconclusively and who determined that something different had to be done. Targeting Megara’s main port as the end objective of a campaign, whether long or short, implies a comprehensive grasp of strategy not at all at home in the inconclusive border warfare,the “hit-and-hit back,”that seems to have predominated before the arrival of Peisistratos.141 A newcomer like Peisistratos might see things clearer, understand that such relatively petty warfare as had been the rule would only prolong the war, and see that bolder strokes were needed. Certainly Peisistratos’ ability to grasp the “bigger picture” was demonstrated by his preparations to return to Athens during his second exile: then, for nearly a decade, he set about amassing resources far from Athens to effect his homecoming (see chapter IV.). It could well be, then, that Peisistratos was the architect not just of the victory at Nisaia but of the campaign and a string of victories, large and small, leading to the final one with which he is credited.142 At all events, it is quite clearly implied that Peisistratos performed in the war as other Athenians before him had not.

D. Nisaia . The Testimonies of Aineias Taktikos and Others The earliest, most extensive ancient testimonia we have about a major Athenian victory over the Megarians in the Megarid involving Peisis-

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tratos derives from Aineias Taktikos, whose Poliorke–tika is generally dated to the early fourth century ... In his handbook collection of sieges and captures,Aineias describes two actions in which Peisistratos was involved as war leader of the Athenians against the Megarians, both occurring on the same day. In the first case, Peisistratos frustrates a Megarian attack on the Eleusinians; in the second, Peisistratos leads a naval force to a landing within sight of Megara, where by trickery he manages to capture many of the important Megarians and so inflict a devastating blow on the enemy. Aineias’ testimony is unfortunately highly dubious, and what little historical value it possesses may only be by accident. According to Aineias, word was brought to Peisistratos when he was serving as general that the Megarians were about to launch a night raid on Eleusis.Their plan was to seize Athenian women who were conducting the Thesmophoria there.Anticipating the attack, Peisistratos ambushed the Megarians, killing many.Then, after ordering his men apparently to dress in the armor of the enemy and some of the women to feign captivity, he embarked them on the Megarian ships, sailed toward Megara, and came to land “at some distance from the city.”143 The sighting of what appeared to be their victorious, hostage-laden ships returning home brought out a crowd of Megarians, including officials and others, to receive the sailors disembarking. Peisistratos had previously instructed his men to go out from the ships to meet them and, on a signal,144 to attack those whom they met. They were to refrain, however, from killing the most important men (ejpifanevstatoi) and to return to the ships with as many of them as they could capture to be held as hostages.145 What Peisistratos ordered was accomplished. Having captured first the ships and then much of the Megarian “establishment,” Peisistratos was victorious twice in one day. Although the account does not specify the location of the victory,there are good reasons to believe that it purports to describe the action at Nisaia.146 Peisistratos’ major achievement in the Megarian war was there, Herodotos says; the victory described by Aineias was won by Peisistratos as commander against the Megarians: the victory is total for the Athenians, crushing for the Megarians.147 Frontinus (Str. ..), who appears to follow Aineias, or more probably his source, inasmuch as his account varies really only in details from Aineias, makes it clear that the victory described in the anecdote ended the war, for he includes it in a section entitled si res prospere cesserit, de consummandis reliquiis bellis. Moreover, Justin (..–), who in his epitome of Trogus repeats what seems to be

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the same story as Aineias and Frontinus, says explicitly (..) that the Megarians came down to the port (obvii ad portum procedunt) to meet the arriving ships and men. It is of course possible that this is a deduction by Trogus or an addition by Justin (or some other author), but it is just as likely that the same source for all of these indicated that the Athenians came to land at a Megarian port and that the port was Nisaia.148 This is precisely where the problems with Aineias’ account begin. It is most unlikely that Peisistratos would have made a surprise attack on Nisaia or the Megarid in the way described after action near Eleusis.The passage between the Megarid and Salamis was perilous indeed for the Athenians, especially on the way to Nisaia, even if the Athenians were in complete control of Salamis.149 Athenian ships would had to have passed Boudoron on Salamis, coming very close to Megarian land on the isthmus before rounding the promontory of Nisaia, all of course within full sight of the Megarians (fig. ).150 As it is, as the account reads, the ships pass close to Megarian land on the right, coasting all along the way, all without being observed, haled, or challenged by other ships before they come to land. For the Athenians coming from Eleusis, the obvious place to put in nearest to Megara—as for the Megarians to put out to sea for Eleusis—was Vourkadhi Bay, just across from Boudoron at “some distance from the city” but well within sight of it (fig. ). Landfall at the closest spot to Megara for those coming from Eleusis (i.e., adjacent to Boudoron) makes some tactical sense if the objective were Megara itself. However, such a landing makes no such sense at all for an attack on Nisaia.The capture of the notable men of Megara—or rather how cleverly they were captured—not the taking of the port of Nisaia, is what is featured in Aineias, just as it is in Frontinus and Justin/Trogus. In fact, Aineias’ account is not really a description of military action but of cleverness.151 Such discrepancies weaken the account’s historical credibility. The doubts attaching to Aineias’ account are compounded by the similarity of Peisistratos’ stratagem in Megarian territory to Solon’s on Salamis, the commonalities of which many scholars have observed.152 In each case, the Megarians come to take women, are fooled by the Athenians, who ambush them, and then the latter sail on ships (Megarian ones) to conquer either Salamis or the Megarians in their home territory.153 While, for reasons already stated, it might be reasonable to consider that the anecdote involving Peisistratos, the women at the festival, and the ambush begot that which featured Solon with its similar details (or, perhaps less likely, vice versa), probing either for further historical detail is really

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a barren exercise. Regardless of its original featured “player,” both stories emphasize really only the cleverness of the principal. And that, not the transmission of historical fact, is surely their purpose. It is the topos of Peisistratos’ cleverness, along with the basic facts attaching to any war between Athens and Megara (e.g., the enemy was Megarian, the action involved the sea, Eleusis was attacked, then the Megarid in turn, etc.), that drives the story we find in Aineias (and Frontinus and Justin) and dictates many of the details we find in it.The ambush at Eleusis, the apparent dressing of the Athenians as Megarian warriors and the feigned captivity of the Athenian women, the prearranged signal, and the capture of the Megarian men of importance are all examples of consummate deception and surpassing cleverness and explain how the victory was won.The totality of the victory, especially the hostage taking of the ejpifanevstatoi, helps explain how the war was ended.The Megarians could not continue hostilities with such captives in the hands of the Athenians, really their whole ruling cadre and presumably the heart and soul of resistance, all now in enemy hands.154 The Megarians must capitulate, even as Aineias’ story implies.155 The complete victory of Peisistratos over the Megarians is thus portrayed as the result of a series of tricks and strategems,easily to be believed of the tyrant,but nothing more. Aineias’ account seems to have been embellished from little more than the facts that Peisistratos was commander and that his victory over the Megarians was a complete one, that the victory involved attack from the sea, and, of course, that Peisistratos was surpassingly clever.156 The very lack of hard information about Peisistratos’ victory at Nisaia undoubtedly opened the door for Aineias (or his source) to recreate what seemed plausible to him in view of what little survived about the tyrant in the war and at the battle.Aineias simply put in what fit his purposes and what little he received, just as Herakleides and others did later for similar reasons. What appears in the story (e.g., another illustration of Peisistratos’ cleverness) and what does not (e.g., the details of the actual engagement) might best be explained once again by Athenian attitudes toward the tyranny in the fifth century ... The hostility of the Athenians to the Peisistratids acted, as it did elsewhere, to mute or mutate transmission of the facts, in this case about the victory at Nisaia.The theme pervading the Athenian explanation for the tyranny entire, Peisistratos’ cleverness, became the primary characteristic of the tyrant because it was acceptable to the Athenians and so was introduced in this case.157 Peisistratos became a lodestone for generic stories involving wit and guile, some of which

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may have had basis in fact, some obviously did not.158 The Athenians did not attempt to deny the fact of Peisistratos’ role in Nisaia, but they probably said little about it. The very brief reference to the victory in Herodotos is obviously to be taken as a palpable result of the Athenians’ dampening of positive references to the tyrants. Of course, the relative silence about Peisistratos’ specific accomplishments in the Megarian war created possibilities for later authors when the need to be quiet about the Peisistratids had subsided.Aineias Taktikos’ account, apparently built from silence and on the motif of Peisistratos’ cleverness, is not itself historically credible overall.It does,however,offer some plausibilities,especially when viewed in context. . Toward a Reconstruction from Context What Peisistratos did exactly at Nisaia and precisely how he conducted himself in the war against Megara we may not say for certain. In relation to Nisaia, we know that it was captured by the Athenians with Peisistratos commanding. However, we may flesh things out a bit more, being reasonably sure that certain conditions would have applied in any case and that these had some bearing on any such action at Nisaia. First of all, it is reasonable to think that Megara’s main port was captured by Athenian warriors debarking from ships rather than marching overland and through the Megarid.There is general agreement about such tactics and warfare in the Megarian war in our sources, and this type of assault makes a good deal of sense. Admittedly, the Athenians could have laid siege to Nisaia after marching in force from Eleusis through the Megarid, for they arrived at Megara in  ... having done just that.159 But at that time the entire (and, indeed, expanded) Athenian muster marched forth, and even then, during the Peloponnesian war, although the Athenians invaded the Megarid twice yearly by land, they seem to have relied on ships as well as land forces.160 Certainly, tactics varied from the early sixth century to the later fifth, and if the Athenians marched out in full force (whatever that was in the early sixth century ...) and through the Megarid they would have faced the entire Megarian army at the end of their long march if they did not meet it at the border.To have attacked Megara overland would not only have required very large numbers of hoplites, but the long march, taking time, would have alerted their enemies that they were coming and exposed them to attack in hostile country, both there and back.When they

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arrived outside Megara, they would have faced a pitched battle with, presumably, the full muster of Megarians, backs to the city walls, protecting their homes and families.The element of surprise lost, battle before siege and siege after battle would have been necessary. These were not very happy prospects for warriors who from all indications were “hit and run” type raiders for the most part.The odds were not very good, but the risks were very high. Finally, if the Athenians marched by land we must question why they diverted to Nisaia when Megara was the real objective. Because of the limitations of the scope of operations during the Archaic period (i.e., in terms of men and ships) and because of what we are told about operations by later authors (as untrustworthy as that information might seem), it is most reasonable to assume that Peisistratos and the Athenians attacked Nisaia suddenly and by sea, setting out from Salamis and bearing down on the port not after a long march through the Megarid but in lightning raid fashion. Such an assault might have been similar to the landing described by Aineias but perhaps more closely resembled the assault the Athenians made on Nisaia during the Peloponnesian war.161 The latter was in fact a lightning-type strike with some help from a fifth column of Nisaians. If that is so and Peisistratos’ operation proceeded similarly, there would have been no siege of Nisaia. Rather, everything would have depended on surprise and rapid occurrence: the Megarians essentially would have been handed a fait accompli. In case things did not go according to plan, support could come up quickly from Salamis, presumably the launching base for the attack, or the island would provide a safe redoubt where the failed attackers could shelter.162 The operation of Miltiades, the victor of Marathon, in the northeastern Aegean offers a nearer contemporary case for comparison here: the descent of his land-sea force upon Lemnos from Elaious in the Chersone– se was sudden and effective. It took so short a time that the Lemnians were quite unable to believe it. They were altogether unprepared, found themselves in no position to resist him, and so surrendered.163 Such a lightning attack required careful planning. Perhaps the Athenians had established contact with traitors inside the port who would open the gates, just as they were to do during the Peloponnesian war.164 Presumably, the Athenians had become aware of Nisaia’s particular weaknesses. Observing or gaining intelligence as to conditions at Nisaia, the Athenians may have simply shown up, bearing down from the sea, just as Miltiades did at Myrrhina and just as Lysandros would do to them at Aigospotamoi in  ... The concerted action of at least several ships

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is certainly implied, and credit for the operation must be Peisistratos’ as commander of record at Nisaia. Inasmuch as Peisistratos built up overwhelming force before marching to Palle– ne– ,it is not unreasonable to think that he did the same before Nisaia. We may assume that the attack on Nisaia was not purposed to annex the Megarian port to Athens permanently but to bring Megara itself to its knees.The Athenians did not occupy Megarian land—at least there is no evidence to that effect—and so we must infer that it was never their intention to do so. Just as during the Peloponnesian war, it had been ascertained that the master of Nisaia was also the master of Megara and the Athenians sought to end the war by choking off Megara’s lifeline.165 Capturing it, the Athenians not only could deprive the Megarians of the ability to launch warships against Salamis or any other Athenian territory, but they could also interdict communication and commerce with Megara’s colonies and colonials or any other trading partners.166 The capture of Nisaia was a well-aimed blow, apparently the end of a strategic plan fundamentally to disrupt Megara’s capacity for war once for all. As generals did in Archaic and early Classical Greece, Peisistratos very likely led from the front, bearing a share of the actual fighting. That is vaguely implied in Herodotos’ testimony about megala erga.167 If that is so, Peisistratos saw action at Nisaia on land certainly and possibly at sea as well.The war archon, Kallimachos, the commander at Marathon, offers a good comparison here. Kallimachos led the Athenian right wing in person and died in the forefront, by no means an unusual cause of death among Greek strate– goi in the fifth century ...168 Combat is implied in Peisistratos’Thracian sojourn, and it would actually be anomalous if he did not lead from the front.169 From his rank and the implications of his past career, we may conclude that the quality of his fighting was very good,that his presence at the forefront figured in his successes.Greek generals, like Greek athletes, many of whom were made generals after distinguishing themselves in the contests, seem to have been physically suited for their roles as actual war leaders.170 Finally, although there is no proof, it is reasonable to assume that, through the campaign preliminary to the capture of Nisaia, Peisistratos had with him at least a circle of companions from the mesogaia or elsewhere. Such a contingent seems to have accompanied Peisistratos north to Rhaike– los and then to the Strymon (cf. chapter IV..B.).These may have attached themselves to Peisistratos early in his career and perhaps included members of the Philaid genos, some of whom were later high-

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level cooperatives with the tyrants.This does not by any means mean to say that Peisistratos had the manpower of the mesogaia behind him when he entered the war or even later when he tried for the tyranny. In fact, nothing suggests that Peisistratos ever commanded a large force of mesogaians.We have no notion of the size of a group of his followers, friends, or retainers (philoi). The arrival of Peisistratos could nevertheless have hallmarked that of an important new contingent of Athenians from the mesogaia whose skills or strengths whatever its size were brought to bear in the Megarian struggle for Athens.As mentioned earlier,Theognis of Megara remarks on men “down from the hills,” indicating the appearance of outlanders there. Peisistratos and his “circle” might signal something similar at Athens.Worn out by the war, both cities were perhaps turning to their hinterlands at this stage for help in the long struggle.The very renewal of Athenian operations against Megara might be taken to suggest that new resources had been located and could be deployed.There is, to be sure, no sign of anything like a mass movement from the hinterland to Athens, and we might suspect that Megara was also less than inundated by swarms from “the hills,” the crabbiness of Theognis notwithstanding. Certainly, diakrians did not weigh in for Peisistratos in any significant numbers greater than the astoi of Athens.Yet, even a small group of well-trained fighting men, perhaps near professionals like Peisistratos himself, could have tipped the scales in the Megarian war, making up in energy and skill what they may have lacked in numbers. Obviously, the Athenians had established superiority in strategic planning and execution. To summarize, it is most likely that Nisaia was taken by the Athenians under Peisistratos in a naval raid launched from Salamis.The attack was planned out and should have been preceded by a buildup of some land and sea force. It was intended to deliver a crippling blow to Megara by depriving it of its port and so of access to the sea.The Athenians had no intention of keeping the port city or, for that matter, any part of the Megarid. Rather, possession of Nisaia was probably to be traded for the permanent security of Eleusis, Salamis, and Phaleron. (Some further recalcitrancy about ownership of Salamis by the Megarians is indicated in our sources; it was nevertheless settled through Spartan arbitration: see section E.) It is reasonable to think that, as later, Peisistratos was accompanied by a group of adherents. His leadership may have attracted some mesogaians, just as his “cause” later attracted many to his standard before Palle– ne– . Peisistratos did not “raise” the region, however, nor did he bring

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with him its total muster by any means. He was not the leader of the mesogaia, and his influence there was not so great as to allow him to set himself at the head of a great many of its warriors. After the war, undoubtedly at least in part because of Nisaia, Megara quickly sank to tertiary status to be dominated both by its adversaries and its bigger neighbors, Corinth and Athens, and by its dependence on imports.171 The victory for the Athenians marked the effective end of Megarian power in the region: Megara posed no further threat to Athens of itself. For their part, the Athenians had avenged the seizure of akropolis by the minions of Theagenes almost tit for tat.The Athenians were also now freed to become more active in the area of former Megarian interest, that is, toward the Euxine. In fact, it is quite likely that Peisistratos’ victory at Nisaia stimulated Athenian colonial activity in the Troad and then in the Thracian Chersone– se.

E. Manipulation of Myth and the Megarian War Although Herodotos patently ascribes the victory at Nisaia to Peisistratos, some effort was made by later authors to make the credit for the Athenian success in the Megarian war over to Solon, especially with regard to Salamis.172 The trend may have begun with the Atthidographers,who reflect popular Athenian attitudes of the fifth and fourth centuries toward the tyrant and the sage.These local chronicles seem to have strongly influenced the accounts of the Ath.Pol., Plutarch’s Life of Solon, and perhaps even Aineias Taktikos. Athenian claims to Salamis, grounded in prehistorical myth (according to the Athenians), were said to have been asserted by Solon in an arbitration case over which the Lakedaimonians presided as judges.Until that arbitration,the war seems not to have officially ended.173 If there was a Spartan arbitration and the case was in fact settled in Athens’ favor, then it is much likelier that Peisistratos was involved. It is far more likely that he, rather than Solon, put forth the claim that Salamis was inveterately Athenian on the grounds that it had been donated to Athens by Eurysakes and Philaios, the sons of the great hero Aias.174 The myth established that Salamis had been ceded to the Athenians in the Bronze Age. It can hardly be a coincidence that the myth involved Philaios, the eponymous for the home deme of the Peisistratidai. (This is explicitly noted in Plutarch’s account.) Not only did the myth emphasize that Salamis was Athenian from the time of the heroes, but also that Peisistratos was especially connected to it, as he was con-

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nected to Philaios. It was, as it were, his island. Obviously, the myth of the Eurysakid/Philaid cession served Peisistratos and his purposes far more than it did Solon.175 A similar kind of connection between Athens and Aias is to be found in the famous interpolation in the Iliad (.–), which had the Bronze Age Athenians and Salaminians neighbors in the Achaian battle line before the walls of Troy. Aias from Salamis led two-and-ten ships And brought them where the Athenian ranks were drawn up. The lines actually further support Athens’ claim to Salamis by making Salaminians and Athenians comrades-in-arms.176 The Megarians of course declared the lines counterfeit and proposed their own alternative, apparently to no avail.177 In any case, our interest is not in the debate about the lines’ authenticity—they are in fact interpolated. It is more in the fact of the debate or, rather, the roles thought to be played by those who are credited with concocting the argument. Strabo observes (..) that ancient opinion was divided as to whether Solon or Peisistratos devised and inserted these lines into the Iliad. Of course, the Peisistratids were famously associated with the epic as its first recensionists but also as interpolators.178 Propaganda that Salamis was Athenian of old was likely to have been generated while Salamis was still in dispute: the lines should be attributed to Peisistratos or Solon.179 But the only source that attaches a recension of the Iliad to Solon is the very late and unreliable Diogenes Laertios, an ascription that is at odds with the chorus of attribution to the Peisistratids by earlier authors.180 On the evidence, this insertion, grounded in a time when such connections needed to be made, was the work of the Peisistratids. A further kind of “proof ” about Salamis’ original ownership, albeit rather oblique, once more said to have been adduced by Solon, also seems better ascribed to Peisistratos.According to Plutarch (Sol. .–), Solon claimed that Salamis was Athenian because the orientation of the graves of the earlier Salaminians, that is, facing west, reflected Athenian practice: hence the Salaminians were Athenians. Hereas the Megarian, however, countered the Athenian claim (FrGrHist  F ), saying that the Megarians, too, buried their bodies facing west. Moreover, the Megarians interred multiple bodies in them, as did the early Salaminians, whereas the Athenians buried only one body per grave. Once more, nothing is proven

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by the argumentation, but, if the story is true, it is interesting that the Athenians were the first to resort to an argument from archaeology to advance their claims to the island. There are other examples of such “science” applied by the Athenians of the fifth century to the interpretation of graves.Thucydides says (..) that Karians were recognized as the earlier inhabitants of the island of Delos, in part because of the method of their burial: this was determined during the Peloponnesian war when the Athenians took up all the graves on the island in order to purify it (..).181 Thucydides also reports that Peisistratos had taken up the graves within sight of the temple of Delian Apollo over one hundred years earlier. According to Herodotos (..), this seems to have occurred shortly after Palle– ne– .182 Presumably, Peisistratos had provided the Athenians with both the reason for and method of taking up the graves in order to purify the island.183 At least we read of no Athenians specifically associated with the actual opening of graves other than Peisistratos. Could something similar to the purification of Delos have occurred on Salamis? It makes some sense that the Athenians would want to signal a permanent change of the island’s ownership from Megarian to Athenian, and of course Dorians were unwelcome as impure on the Athenian akropolis.The Athenian “argument from archaeology” for Salamis seems more likely to have been spawned by Peisistratos than by Solon, to whom no such archaeological endeavors are otherwise attached.184 We may add one more potential transfer to Solon, again involving the Spartan arbitration, but vaguer still than those already mentioned. Why would the Spartan Dorians find in favor of Ionian Athens’ claim to Salamis and rule against the Dorian Megarians? Surely, if there was such an arbitration—and that is not all certain—a mere propagandistic argument would not have impressed the judges.185 In fact, the Spartans did rule for Athens. It could be that the Spartans sought their own advantage, weakening Megara on behalf of its important ally, Corinth. But Megara was depleted by the time of Nisaia and would pose no further threat to Corinth or Athens. Giving Salamis to Athens would, on the contrary, strengthen the Athenians and their presence in the Saronic Gulf. It certainly looks like a political favor done on behalf of Athens. Now the Peisistratidai were “guest-friends” (xenoi) of the Spartans and were highly thought of by them until the time of Hippias very near the end of the sixth century.186 Solon had no such famous link to the Spartans. Kleomenes, the king of Sparta in the latter sixth century, had

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pretensions to Achaian descent and entered the temple of Athena, he declared, not as Dorian but, rather astonishingly, as an “Achaian” (Hdt. ..). Kleomenes was surely not alone among the Lakedaimonians in having such pretensions. Peisistratos apparently used Bronze Age myth to Athens’ advantage; his sons were responsible for interpolating the famous lines about Aias and Athens. Could the pretensions of the Spartan royals—and Kleomenes’ own sense of leave to enter the temple of Athena— have been created through the manipulation of myth by the Peisistratids? Did Peisistratos allege affinity to the Spartan kings? Is that how the Peisistratid xenia with the Spartans came about?187 Some special connection with the Spartan kings is indicated that overrode national and racial distinctions and made the Spartans more favorable to the Athenians than the Megarians.The somewhat surprising award of Salamis to the Athenians by the Spartans is better explained if the Spartans ruled on behalf of their guest-friends and “kin,” the Peisistratids and the Athenians. There is yet a quite curious detail of Solon’s campaign for Salamis reported in Plutarch, which might amount to one last transfer credit from Peisistratos to Solon. It is, however, murky and not easy to construe. In Plutarch’s Life of Solon (.–), before action on Salamis, Solon anchors his ship off Salamis “facing toward Euboia” (my italics).188 While some have suggested that this might reflect local idiom involving the island of Atalante, offshore from Salamis, and its relationship to the Attic mainland (i.e.,“facing toward ‘Euboia’ [= Attika?]”),189 it is more reasonably drawn from a story that included Euboia somehow in it. Of course, the diakria on the eastern Attic coast (certainly including Brauron/Philaïdai) faces Euboia, and the description of Solon’s anchorage seems more appropos to that region of Attika than to Attika under a different name.190 Solon was not connected in any special way with Euboia, and the cryptic reference here is, once more, better suited to Peisistratos than to Solon.191 The meaning of this reference to Euboia is unknown, however, and it is difficult to see what it could possibly mean for the controversy involving ownership of Salamis, unless perhaps it had some connection to Philaios the Salaminian and his immigration to eastern Attika. Later sources did in fact transfer what was credited to Peisistratos (or possibly his sons) over to Solon.The divergence of creditation is more implicit in some of our sources (viz., Plutarch), in others more explicit (e.g., Ath.Pol., Strabo).The reasons for this transference are obvious: the Peisistratids were officially execrated as tyrants by the Athenians from the early fifth century; Solon was, of course, the Ur-spirit of the democracy,

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the genius of democratic Athens.192 The official polarization, derived from then, seems to be responsible for the origins of the controversy: it went so far as to designate Solon a Salaminian.193 Later authors, possibly with the divided opinions of Atthidographers or others before them, chose one side or the other, although the preponderance of opinion seems to have followed the official Athenian lead and given perhaps much undue credit to Solon.There is, it is to be noted, no sure way to know whether the information attaching to either was valid to begin with, although we may say that what presents itself as a kind of propaganda uniting Salamis, Athens, and Peisistratos seems best credited to the Peisistratids. Solon was responsible for an important victory over the Megarians at Salamis—that seems certain. But it was Peisistratos who secured the island for Athens by capturing Nisaia. Perhaps he or his heirs established “legal” claim to the island by repeating their own myths about it.These seem to have been duly rehearsed for the Spartans, who finally assented to Athenian ownership of the island. (The arbitration, if it occurred, was a masterstroke for the Athenians, for it placed the prestige and might of the Lakedaminonians behind their decision for Athens. Presumably, the Peisistratids knew going into the arbitration what to expect from their “guestfriends.”). Solon’s victory at Salamis may only be considered a minor one, a round in the war with Megara, since Salamis was insecure until Nisaia finally fell. Peisistratos, however, effectively ended the era of Megarian expansiveness in the Saronic Gulf region and overseas and it was from this time that Athens began in earnest its own expansion and to establish permanent overseas interests.The stimulus for this surely was victory over the Megarians, but it was also due to Peisistratos, whose interests in colonialism were fixed even before he had “rooted” his tyranny at Athens.

F. Summary Athens and Megara were involved for most of the seventh and early sixth centuries in a war for possession of Salamis and Eleusis. Megara was mostly successful before the turn of the century,inflicting at least one very serious defeat upon the Athenians around the time of Kylon’s attempted tyranny. Athens was successful thereafter in large part due to Solon and then Peisistratos. Peisistratos became strate– gos apparently in the latest phase of the war, and under his leadership the Athenians secured Salamis once for all. From there, the Athenians were able to launch their attack on Megaran Nisaia.A decisive victory effectively ended the war in Athens’

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favor. It established Peisistratos’ popularity solidly and paved the way for his first tyranny. The victory at Nisaia must be considered the sine qua non for Peisistratos’ first tyranny, for without it he would not have had the popular support he needed to establish his tyranny. In view of the long, drawn-out nature of the war and the hardships it caused the Athenians, in light of the consternation created by Kylon’s attempted tyranny and the relief the Athenians must have felt after Nisaia, it is easy to imagine why Peisistratos became and remained popular and why the Athenians were willing to surrender a tyranny to him. Nisaia did not automatically beget the tyranny for Peisistratos. Rather it created a popularity that allowed him to aspire to such power. That popularity however had to be united with that which the Athenians from at least the time of Solon had made the prerequisite for any lasting political power— chre– mata. For success in politics at Athens, Peisistratos had now to devise other means to complement his military success and the popularity it had created.

III

Money, Persuasion, and Alliance ` THE EARLY TYRANNIES OF PEISISTRATOS

.    Sometime after Nisaia,when Peisistratos had become renowned and popular among the Athenians for his effective leadership and successes in the Megarian war, he fixed his sights firmly on the tyranny. This will most likely have occurred between ca. – ..., the range of dates probable for the campaign leading to Nisaia, and – ..., the year of the archonship of Komeas, during which Peisistratos took the tyranny for the first time.1 Except for the sparse and problematic testimony of Herodotos, we know nothing of the steps Peisistratos took before entering the very different arena of Athenian city politics. Much of the information Herodotos supplies is of questionable value, not only for the period leading up to the first tyranny but also for the time following it down to Peisistratos’ flight to Eretria. Herodotos does supply some information, which, when it agrees with Solon’s, may be taken as more trustworthy if not completely factual. Herodotos implies that Peisistratos was popular among the Athenians because of his triumph over the Megarians.Public favor figured prominently in his attempts to become tyrant once again. Solon assures us that the will of the Athenian de– mos was indispensable for political success, but also that the de– mos was inconstant, supporting and then withdrawing support from politicians.The de– mos was manipulated by speech and ac

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tions as well as circumstances. Its fluctuating will accounts in part for Peisistratos’ variable political fortunes early on. Furthermore, in spite of Peisistratos’ individual merits as leader or his popularity, because of political circumstances in Athens, he could not have become tyrant without further help from within the city and above all from those who could influence the will of the de– mos there. As we shall see, according to Solon, the only really reliable source for the period, politics was played out in or near the city by the astoi; Solon never mentions the country or country folk in his political poetry.Rather, he implies that city politicians had been competing for power for some time and that the competition, established certainly by his day, was centered on the city itself.This condition we may take as fact for the time of Peisistratos’ first foray into Athenian politics, for Herodotos indicates the same polarity of city-oriented factions before the arrival of Peisistratos as Solon attests for his time.As a newcomer to this establishment, Peisistratos required the backing of at least one of the two sides and, of course, its leader.That, as we shall see, he got. In his first bid for tyranny, Peisistratos clearly enjoyed the favor of the de– mos and so its leader.The Solonian “dynamics” and the influence of the leader of the de– mos are in fact portrayed both implicitly and explictly in Herodotos’ account.

.  ’      A. Herodotos and the “Parties” of Attika . Introduction So, although Chilon had advised him [sc. to desist from child begetting], Hippokrates would not be persuaded.Afterward, that Peisistratos was born to him, who, when the Athenians of the coast (paraloi) who were led by Megakles,the son of Alkmeon,and those from the plain (ek tou pediou), who were led by Lykourgos, the son of Aristolaïdes, were engaged in stasis, fixed his thoughts on the tyranny and assembled his own partisans (stasio– tai). When Peisistratos had assembled his partisans, the so-called beyond-the-hills men (hyperakrioi) and put himself at their head, he devised the following.He wounded himself and drove his mule chariot to the agora as though fleeing [his] enemies: these purposed to kill him while he was progressing through the countryside—so he said. He petitioned the de–mos for a guard to protect him. Earlier Peisistratos had established a good reputation in the war against Megara, having taken Nisaia and performed many

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other great deeds.The Athenian de–mos was deceived and collected and gave him some city men, who were not spear-bearers (doryphoroi), but korune– phoroi, for they carried wooden clubs and followed along behind him. These joined with Peisistratos in rebellion and took the akropolis. From that point, Peisistratos ruled the Athenians.2 —Herodotos ..–.. Thus, we have Herodotos’ very brief, very allusive, obviously quite incomplete account of Peisistratos’ arrival in Athenian politics and of his initial efforts to become tyrant. Herodotos provides us with no idea whatsoever about Peisistratos’ actions between his war leadership and the period just before his first attempted tyranny. On the contrary, in Herodotos Peisistratos breaks upon the political scene from out of nowhere; the mention of Nisaia and his “great deeds” in the Megarian war are a later aside, their mention incidental really to his “election” by the Athenian de– mos as tyrant.The historian’s preface for his account of Peisistratos’ rise, which describes the meeting of the Spartan sage Chilon and Hippokrates, the father of Peisistratos, under supernatural circumstances, sets the overriding tone for the entire account down to Peisistratos’ final victory at Palle– ne– . No mere man, Peisistratos was divinely designated to be tyrant of Athens, as Herodotos’ account shows. From the outset, we are signaled that what follows will be something other than a straightforward historical account.3 There is little to say about that preface, the mythical encounter of Hippokrates and Chilon at Olympia, other than to emphasize that it is just that. It is folktale, with Chilon playing the “warner” to Hippokrates’ benighted Everyman (see appendix C..A.).4 Far more substantial, at first glance, seems to be the information about the Herodotean factions, whose existence most scholars have never doubted and whose bearing on the first tyranny of Peisistratos is taken to be considerable. Herodotos’ statements about the “parties” encourage the reader to believe that they were regionally based, but his naming of their leaders also suggests that they were somehow personal constituencies. He further implies that, in order to enter Athenian politics and compete with the other leaders, Peisistratos had first to create his own distinct third “party,” that he did in fact muster the hyperakrioi instantly and outside of the asty, and that consequently this new party was primarily responsible for his first tyranny.This scant, suggestive information is really all that Herodotos provides about

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the parties and so about Athenian politics at the time of Peisistratos’ first tyranny. The significance of the parties for the history of Athens seems obvious, and it is not surprising that many historians have advanced opinions about them, almost all of which are premised upon a belief in their veritable existence in the early sixth century ...5 Some, interpreting Herodotos literally, have construed the parties as regionally based;6 others interpret them more as personal constituencies, as he implies;7 and still others, largely disregarding Herodotos in favor of later testimonies about the parties, make them economic in nature or something else.8 Nevertheless, though most modern constructions of the parties have been thoughtful and even ingenious, they have not been convincing.The problematic nature of the limited evidence available about them at least partially accounts for this; moreover, none of our available sources tells us as much about the parties as we would like to know. Not surprisingly, the results thus far have been largely speculative.9 Notwithstanding its difficulties, it is precisely Herodotos’ information, the oldest and most authoritative for the parties, their formation, and their activities, that will be examined in the coming pages.While Herodotos’ testimony about the first tyranny and its prelude is the best we have and the parties are at the heart of the controversy about them, the influences bearing upon Herodotos, indeed, the greater context for what actually appears in Herodotos’ account have never really been properly assessed. Yet this is crucial for determining the nature of Herodotos’ information about the parties and its meaning: there can obviously be no attempt at historical reconstruction until it is considered. No one would deny, for example, that Herodotos had his information about the sixth-century Athenian parties from fifth-century Athenians, that these sources were influenced by the general attitudes pervading fifth-century Athens, or that, for obvious reasons, these “nonhistorians” were much less objective in what they said about them than any historian would like.Yet such acknowledgment must greatly affect any evaluation of the account of Peisistratos’ first tyranny and, in particular here, the parties and their significance, as we read of them in Herodotos.10 As I have mentioned, the Athenians of the fifth century collectively and officially despised the Peisistratid tyranny and their officially negative attitude toward it cannot but have significantly impacted the tradition of it and so its “history.”11 Indeed such documents from the fifth century as

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the Prytaneion Decree (IG I3 ) and the general amnesty passed in , which quite expressly excluded the Peisistratids (Mark. Vita Thuc. ), indicate persistent hostility toward the tyrants, at least at the official level.12 Although there may have been some variance in the degree of hostility over the course of time—positive references, we have seen, do manage to get through in our sources—sustained, institutionalized loathing of them must have affected the record of the tyranny adversely.13 Certainly the disapproving references to the Peisistratid tyranny we find in Herodotos (and Thucydides) are explained by that hostility.14 Indeed, in the case of Herodotos, the historian could only have gotten his information about the Peisistratids from the very Athenians who created and then maintained an official attitude of execration.15 Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise is obviously affected. From the prodigy of Hippokrates’ overflowing cauldron to Amphilytos’ prophecy of doom before Palle– ne– ,it is permeated with themes of supernatural sponsorship of Peisistratos and the irresistibility of his tyranny. It is thus far more apologetic in content and absorbed with reporting unusual events leading to the tyranny than it is concerned to transmit historical fact in any straightforward fashion.The themes in fact help to explain what appear to have been actual events, some of which emerge from the revisionism, and in so doing they exculpate the Athenians for allowing it in the first place and then over time. According to the implications in Herodotos’ logos, the Athenians were really powerless to forestall Peisistratos’ rule as tyrant.16 The result is, in fact, an example of “preferred history,” which is no history at all but explanation of it. Indeed, Herodotos’ narrative on Peisistratos’ rise to power is literally gilded over with apology, alteration, omission, or other distortion so as to combat or occlude what was apparently too embarrassing or distasteful for the Athenians of the fifth century to recall about their ancestors of the sixth century. Thus, the very basis of Herodotos’ account is affected and it will be vital to distinguish what is revisionistic and reactionary from what is not to determine what is or could be factual and what is not or could not be.This is especially necessary in the case of Herodotos’ information about the parties of Attika. The effects of the revisionism in relation to these appear to be fundamental. For a start, these, as named and ascribed, simply do not align with Solon’s depiction of politics in early-sixth-century Athens. For Solon, there were only two “factions,” if there were any, and he never designates

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them by regional names. This might not seem significant except that Solon’s portrayal of political bilateralism finds agreement in Herodotos. The historian states that there were two “parties” (staseis) before Peisistratos assembled his quite extraordinary third one, and he implies that these were city centered.17 As we shall presently see, Peisistratos’ third party is quite inconsequential and extraneous to the events Herodotos subsequently describes. Although Herodotos implies that Peisistratos’ third party was requisite for him to contest for the tyranny, the hyperakrioi turn out to be of no account in his actual bid for it.Their inactivity is conspicuous in light of Herodotos’ implication, for why, if they do not participate in subsequent events, did Peisistratos bother to constitute a party at all? As it happens, Peisistratos’ party exits Herodotos’ text immediately after entering it, as in fact do the other two preexisting it, with none of the three taking any part as such in events leading to the first tyranny. Athenian antityrannism and Herodotos’ sources’ reaction to it can account for both the parties’ discordancy with Solon’s portrayal of bilateral politics at Athens and with Herodotos’ portrayal of political bilateralism before the advent of the very suspect third party. The Herodotean parties as described thus appear to be fictions introduced into the account of Peisistratos’ rise by the historians’ sources to obscure so as to revise the history of the events surrounding Peisistratos’ first “election” as tyrant.They are misleading as to Athenian history and politics at the time.The reasons for this obscurity and revision are to be coupled with those that account for the general tone of the digression: the parties seek to distract attention from the facts and so to diminish the Athenians’ culpability in permitting Peisistratos his first tyranny. Three premises will be functional in what follows here. First, Herodotos’ information about Peisistratos and the parties derives from fifth-century Athenians, who, in light of official and popular antityrannism, had reason enough to misrepresent the truth about facts and events surrounding the first tyranny, especially if the truth was embarrassing. Second, misrepresentations about these facts and events appear in sharp relief against the sparse but credible information about events that Herodotos does in fact transmit. Solon’s testimony about Athenian politics will be used as a “control” for Herodotos, since Solon supplies the only information that is both nearly contemporary and bears upon Athenian politics of the time.18 Finally, later testimonies about the parties will not figure in the main discussion,since they are obviously mostly derivative of,especially,Herodotos

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and add little to our knowledge on their own. (I shall return to this later.) It will be seen that there are two separate explanations for Peisistratos’ first tyranny, both of which seem to have been engendered by a need to distract from other, embarrassing conduct with respect to the tyrant’s rise. The context against which this revision is to be measured is provided by Herodotos. The question of the Herodotean parties begins and ends with Herodotos’ text. Felix Jacoby observed that “all authors whom we know in narrating the history of tyranny followed in the main lines Herodotos who was the first to fix the story in writing.”19 Of these, only the Ath.Pol. author (AP) and Plutarch bear at all upon the parties.With regard to the Ath.Pol., there are four main points of difference from Herodotos: the ideological ascriptions of the parties (.), the nature of Peisistratos’ party’s members (.), the derivation of the parties’ names (.), and the mention of Aristion, who is said to have proposed the official decree (graphe–) calling for Peisistratos’ bodyguard in – (.).As to the first, scholars generally agree that ideological ascriptions are well out of place for Athenian politics in the early sixth century ... but quite at home in the context of the Ath.Pol.’s composition, the “Aristoteleian” theorizing of the late fourth century ... They conclude that these are anachronized, and, in view of Solon’s portrayal of a basic politicoeconomic polarity, that is undoubtedly correct.20 Second, that Peisistratos’ followers were creditors who had lost money is simply not credible: cancellation of debts, which is first attested in Ath.Pol., even if it occurred, would hardly have driven creditors toward someone who, by AP’s own reckoning, was hardly in sympathy with them.21 Moreover, the “impure” could only have been so designated after the diapsephismos, the “cleansing” of the Athenian citizen rolls, which occurred at the tyranny’s end. Those cleansed were thus inferred to have been the tyrants’ partisans and admitted to the rolls during the time of the tyranny: they were “unclean” for no other reason than their association with the tyranny. Obviously this “information” about creditors and the “impure” must also be judged to be anachronized, as it is based on sensibilities and reasonings that really had no part in early-sixth-century Athenian politics.22 An additional testimonium of AP’s, taken to be substantive, is that the party members “had their names from the places [sc. in Attika] where they farmed.” But this is surely grounded in the geographical allusions made in Herodotos and nothing more: no one would argue that the parties were entirely composed of farmers (agroikoi) in any case.23 Finally, that one “Aristion” (cf.

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also Plut. Sol. .) actually moved the decree to award korune– phoroi to Peisistratos in the assembly to which Herodotos alludes is a clear-cut anachronism: how indeed could such precise information have survived even into the late fifth century, that is, the time of the earliest possible source for this section of the Ath.Pol. (viz., Hellanikos)?24 Although Plutarch’s very late account is the most extensive on the parties, it is nevertheless essentially flawed and so even less credible than that of the Ath.Pol. For him, the parties and their economic reasons for being eclipse any consequence of leadership or geographical situation.This fundamental disagreement with Herodotos robs Plutarch’s much later, categorically derivative account of the parties of most of its historical validity. Indeed, Plutarch’s sources’ “reading” of the parties is more fictional embellishment than factual account.25 Of course, Plutarch composed hundreds of years after the events and relies on many “creative” intermediaries whose ultimate source must have been Herodotos but who well exceeded the sparse account he supplies. Both Plutarch and AP do, however, offer some facts that align to some degree with what Solon and Herodotos provide and so may be used—very judiciously—to develop the picture provided by these. Obviously, the facts that are found to be in agreement with Solon may be held to be valid, since Solon is the only contemporary voice for the period.

.       Solon identifies only two active political groups at Athens in his day, an identification, that agrees with Herodotos’ testimony that only two staseis existed before Peisistratos’ formation of a third one. Solon explicitly polarizes these, calling one group dh`mo~ mevn (the commons) and the other, oi} d’ ei\con duvnamin kai; crhvmasin h\san ajghtoiv (those who had power and were envied because of wealth.)26 (AP and Plutarch do not in fact disagree with the fundamentally economic polarization that Solon’s extant poetry implies.)27 Taken altogether, the evidence we have attests to political bilateralism rather than trilateralism or any political disposition more complex.28 The factions in the early-sixth-century crisis are primarily identified from the extant poems of Solon; later authors had more of Solon’s corpus than we do, and that fact assures to some degree that they pass along at least some valid information amid the invalid.The Ath.Pol., which preserves fragments of Solon’s poems and whose author knew more of them

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than he transmitted, extends Solon’s description of the powerful and wealthy by calling them gno– rimoi, that is, men of wealth, note, and aristocratic background. This is obviously in line with what Solon implies about them.While these may have been, to some extent, a self-appointed “elite,” they were undoubtedly invested in the political, social, and economic status quo, from which they derived their standing and privilege.29 From what Solon alone provides about their political counterparts, the de– mos was generally made up of their opposites, that is, the nonaristocratic, non-notable, and nonwealthy (or less wealthy), politically active, mostly living in or near the asty, and intermittently purposed to obtain better material ends through political activism. These are the only two active political entities to which Solon attests, the only ones that appear to have existed during his political career, and so the only ones that we are entitled to understand as functional in Athens in the early sixth century ...30 It is important to observe how Solon describes politics in his day, the dynamics of which are outlined in those descriptions.Although Solon is at some pains in his poems to identify himself with the de– mos and so to distance himself from their opposites,31 he nonetheless reproaches the Athenians several times for their relentless appetite for gain, an appetite that obviously will have been greater among the have-nots, that is, at least the majority of the de– mos, than it was among their antagonists, those “envied for their wealth.”32 This is actually borne out by Solon’s further testimonia. He says that the “citizens (astoi)”—again, these must refer primarily to the de– mos33—”wish to destroy this great city, persuaded by money (chre–masi).”34 The avarice of the political de– mos is in fact most specifically revealed when, presumably after the discharge of his special commission and the implementation of his programs, Solon apologized to it repeatedly for not obtaining for it what it wanted most. Solon says, among other things: “They came for plunder. They had hopes of being rich, everyone expecting that he would discover great fortune (olbon) . . . but now they are angry with me”; “I gave the de– mos sufficient reward (geras)”; “I accomplished what I promised”; and “The things I said [I would do], I accomplished with the gods.”35 Evidently, the de– mos, which had apparently encouraged and even expected Solon to become tyrant (Frs.,,and ),did not agree that Solon had kept his promises.Otherwise he would not have had to address the de– mos several times over to the same ends in such a defensive way. Solon’s apologies and other state-

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ments imply that he had lost influence with the de– mos as a result of its perception that he had failed to make good his promises.Thus, it is reasonable to think that Solon’s expressions of solidarity with the de– mos, which were evidently artificial (or held to be in the aftermath of his commission),were composed before his special commission had been awarded and had been designed to win the de– mos over in the first place.36 Other fragments of Solon’s poems further illustrate political conditions in early-sixth-century Athens, much of the information about which actually accords with Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ initial attempt at tyranny. Solon refers specifically to the ill effects of stasis on the city produced by its citizens (Fr. , –) and alludes to the polis’ destruction because of “assemblies dear to the unjust” (, –).37 Clearly, politics affecting the asty were played out in or very near Athens by and for the astoi. Moreover, that by far the majority of the political fragments of Solon’s poetry we possess are addressed to the politically active city de– mos or concern its condition and desires illustrates its importance already by the early sixth century.38 (In fact, the Kylonian crisis shows that it was important much before: cf. chapter II..A..) The de– mos in fact created the political crisis Solon was empowered to solve, and his repeated apologies for and explanations of the promises he made to it underscore its importance in his day.39 Such promises were apparently required of him, perhaps as a further means to win the de– mos’ pledges to abide by his solutions.Without those pledges, induced by his promises, the crisis had no real hope of being solved, for the de– mos’ cooperation over time was required for there to be any meaningful settlement.40 Third, and it follows from this, Solon’s promises and other allusions made by him to the Athenians’ susceptibility to public speech, that is, to promises made orally, imply that the de– mos was won by oratory, the persuasiveness of which had to have been based largely on the prospect of gain. Solon in fact chides the Athenians for looking to the tongue of the dissembling man (F , ), indicating that the de– mos was easily taken in by speech (F ), especially when prospects of gain were offered.41 Fourth, and again it follows, Solon assures us that insubstantial promises, that is, deceptive speeches, the natural outcome in a climate of political “bidding” for leadership of the de– mos, were regular at Athens in the early sixth century. (Phanias of Eresos, as preserved in Plutarch’s Life of Solon, even accuses Solon himself of deceiving both sides before acquiring his special commission, and the accusation may have been grounded in the

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further record of Solon’s public speech, viz., the poetic fragments we do not possess.)42 Fifth, although the support of the politically active de– mos was crucial for achieving and maintaining any political arrangement, and political leaders may have done their utmost to persuade it to their ends, the de– mos was not politically constant, owing unwavering allegiance to no one leader but rather to the leaders’ promises.The de– mos could—and did—abandon its leaders when either promises were not kept or better offers were heard.43 From his charting of the de– mos’ inconstancy among other things, the politically active Solonian de– mos could not rightly be called a party or a faction at all, since it was apparently neither homogeneous in nature, ideologically or otherwise commonly or abidingly fixed on any abstract end, or a personal constituency, as its abandonment of Solon shows. Quite to the contrary, the Solonian de– mos’ appetite for gain or material advantage almost wholly defines it and simultaneously explains its inconstancy. Gain could derive from diverse sources, as the de– mos—and Solon—learned. Further evidence suggests that the de– mos’ political activity was only intermittently intensive. Its strength at any given time must have been proportional to the weight of its numbers, its focus and (so) its leadership, and the degree of its determination to attain its aims measured by its involvement over time.44 The de– mos seems to have been activated as a political group by crisis indicated, created, or exacerbated especially by the speech of politicians even before the Solonian crisis. Unexcited it was, according to Solon, like the sleeping sea; aroused, its power was irresistible but also essentially uncontrollable.It seems to have settled back rather rapidly into the mundane—as reasonably it must due to mundane necessity.45 The main problem for the de– mos’ leaders seems to have been to maintain their influence over it, for its will could change quickly and become adverse.46 (There are thus obvious connections to be drawn between these descriptions of the de– mos’ actions during the Kylonian affair.)

.    ⁄       Herodotos’ account of political arrangements in Athens prior to Peisistratos’ first attempt at tyranny agrees in several ways with the political conditions depicted by Solon, and these agreements cannot be by accident. First of all, Peisistratos must have come into the asty to make his case for

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the tyranny there; he could not have successfully gained his end outside of the asty or present it as a fait accompli to the Athenian astoi.47 This accords with Solon’s general implications that the asty was the political center of Attika and Peisistratos’ obvious need to establish himself in the city and among the de– mos there.48 Second, Peisistratos addressed the Athenians assembled in the agora, a necessity that underscores the fact not only that the tyranny could not simply be brokered solely by the so-called elites in “back rooms” but also that the de– mos must listen and accede for any man to gain power.49 This,too,accords with Solon’s own repeated verbal efforts to win and keep the assent of the de– mos but also with the case of Kylon, who failed to establish himself adequately among the people by winning popularity (chapter II..A.). Third, Peisistratos used persuasive speech to win the de– mos; he would not, or more likely could not, take and hold power forcibly during either of his first two attempts, thus repeating the mistake of Kylon. Herodotos says also that Peisistratos won the de– mos through visual and verbal deception, and there is no reason to doubt that deception actually figured to some extent, for, according to Solon, it seems to have been common. But deception cannot completely explain Peisistratos’ success on the occasion, and in fact Herodotos contradicts his own account, where he notes that the Athenians were mindful of Peisistratos’ impressive public record when they voted him korune– phoroi.The deception story of Herodotos is in fact undermined in specifics by what Herodotos himself later supplies.50 Finally, when Peisistratos was driven from the tyranny, ostensibly by Megakles and Lykourgos acting in concert, and then sought to return, he had once more to gain popular approval for resuming the tyranny. Not only does the fact of Peisistratos’ later chariot ride with Phye demonstrate his need for the de– mos to assert its approval, but also, because it was necessary for him to do so, it demonstrates that he had lost popular approval and support in the meantime, very likely just before Megakles and Lykourgos ousted him from his first tyranny. The de– mos’ power and inconstancy are well illustrated in Peisistratos’ first attempts at tyranny in Herodotos: like Solon, Peisistratos found popular favor and lost it, but unlike Solon, as we shall see, he won it back. Citycentered politics, public speech, verbal deception, and above all the primary importance of the de– mos, all elements in Solon’s portrayal of politics there, are also evident in Herodotos’ account of events leading up to Peisistratos’ first two tyrannies.As we shall presently see, Herodotos’ ruralbased third party does not fit in well with these conditions.51

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, ,  

.           Herodotos intended his readers to believe that there were three regional and leader-based parties in Athens, not two city-based factions, when Peisistratos attempted to take the tyranny for the first time. In the Solonian context, however, three parties will not do at all. It is nevertheless possible to see beyond what Herodotos or his source(s) actually present and detect the derivation of the fictions of the Herodotean parties. Notwithstanding other dissonances between Solon and Herodotos, we shall attempt to construe the parties preexisting Peisistratos, aligning them, if we may, with the Solonian factions but jettisoning, as we must, at least one of them, their Herodotean names and their implications.This is forced of course, inasmuch as Solon does not designate more than two of the political entities he knew either by geography or leadership. Proceeding in this way, that is, employing Herodotos’ information as far as Solon’s pointers will allow, seems to afford the best chance of reconstructing political conditions in Athens at the time of Peisistratos’ first bid for tyranny. Herodotos’“party of the plain” is most readily equatable with Solon’s “powerful and wealthy”: Lykourgos, its leader, perhaps a primus inter pares, is generally accepted as an Eteoboutad dweller of the plain of Athens, and the “faction” is thought to have been conservative, landed, and aristocratic.52 This has always been the least problematic of the three Herodotean parties to fit into the broader historical context, there is general scholarly agreement about it, and its existence—though not as Herodotos’ “party of the plain”—makes a great deal of sense in the Solonian context. Its cohesiveness—and it was probably closest to being an actual political group or grouping—depended (most probably) on traditional economic and political interests.53 It is to be emphasized once more, though, that the polis was the stage for politics in early-sixthcentury Athens and that Solon never calls the powerful and wealthy the “party of the plain.” If that designation is correct, then, under the circumstances, Herodotos’“party of the shore,” the other faction preexisting formation of Peisistratos’ very dubious third one, is to be equated with its opposite, that is, Solon’s politically active de– mos.That, too, makes sense, even if we set aside for the moment the Alkmeonids’ bruited record of inveterate leadership of the de– mos.54 For their role in the Kylonian sphage– , the forebears of Megakles and the Alkmeonid genos were permanently alienated

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from the Athenian aristocracy—and one would have imagined, from Athens—all before  ...55 In a surprisingly short time, however, Megakles, the son of Alkmeon and grandson of the archon Megakles, is not only discovered to be back in Athens but he is a leading politician whose properties and prospects were bright enough by the s (probably at the latest) to have earned for him the hand of Agariste, daughter of Kleisthenes, tyrant of Sikyon.56 How did this remarkable change of fortune come about? In light of the established context for sixth-century Athenian politics, the salient fact attaching to the exiled Alkmeonidai after the Kylonian slaughter, that they had become fabulously wealthy while away from Athens, explains both their return to Athens and Megakles’ leadership of the de– mos before Peisistratos’ first tyranny. Alkmeon was said by Herodotos to have acquired enormous riches in exile after performing a benefaction for Kroisos (although we must read “Alyattes” if the account is to possess any historical connection to the Mermnads).57 While the humorous story of Alkmeon’s “looting” of Kroisos’ treasury bears the definite stamp of myth, Alkmeon did in fact become wealthy while in exile, for he could field a winning chariot team at Olympia and even his entrance into the competition there was a sure sign of considerable personal wealth.58 Whatever the actual source of Alkmeon’s wealth, chre– mata to distribute to the de– mos must have become the exiled Alkmeonids’ ticket to return and to reinstatement as leaders in Athenian politics. Chre– mata was what the de– mos wanted, Solon asserts; it was what the Alkmeonidai now possessed in abundance. There is really no better explanation for why the Athenians permitted the Alkmeonids to return, remain, and prosper among them after the slaughter of the Kylonians and its upshot. Solon says, in fact, that the Athenians were so unscrupulous in the pursuit of wealth that they spared neither public nor sacred property.59 That avarice and Alkmeon’s riches produced a fruitful symbiosis:the de– mos was greedy enough to overlook the Kylonian miasma and powerful enough both to enable the genos’ return and to baffle aristocratic disapproval of or attacks on the exiles; Megakles alone appears to have been capable of sustaining the de– mos’ support over time (even if that support were only demonstrated sporadically) by means of timely distribution of chre– mata. Although the aristoi may have objected strenuously to the return of the Alkmeonidai, the de– mos, which seems to have had a shorter memory but possessed fewer qualms about the derivation of gain in any case and ap-



, ,  

parently more political weight, could and did overrule them. Alkmeon’s wealth, strategically deployed among the politically active Athenian de– mos, explains the return of the Alkmeonidai, as well as Megakles’ leadership of the de– mos at the time of Peisistratos’ first attempt at tyranny. Megakles’ leadership of an active political group at Athens is observed as fact in Herodotos, and, of the two entities in existence before Peisistratos’, the Solonian de– mos is a far likelier constituency to align with Megakles than the only other alternative, Solon’s “powerful and wealthy,” who presumably wanted nothing to do with the despised enageis (polluted).The “sins” of the Alkmeonidai were inconsequential to the de– mos at some point, we know very well: Megakles’ genos was associated with the de– mos over a long period of time, the political relationship having developed, according to the Alkmeonidai themselves, well before Kleisthenes “took the de– mos into partnership.” At least, Alkibiades at Sparta claimed that Alkmeonid prostasia of the de– mos extended to the time of the tyranny, and that claim finds substance in what is implied by Megakles’ power.60 Leadership, or, rather, influence of the de– mos, though it was costly and, even when achieved, temporary and apparently quite insecure, was nonetheless indispensable for political success even in early-sixth-century Athens, as the fluctuations in the careers of Solon, Megakles, and Peisistratos all show. In Herodotos, it is explicitly Megakles who, in combination with the de– mos, is politically most important from Peisistratos’ first ouster until Palle– ne– . Megakles joined with Lykourgos to remove Peisistratos from his first tyranny, but it was also he who summoned Peisistratos back, presumably against the opposition of his former partner. Megakles’ promise to reinstate Peisistratos nevertheless required the consent of the de– mos before it could be made good, so that in fact Megakles and the Athenian de– mos together restored Peisistratos’ tyranny. Megakles’ wealth, then Peisistratos’ superior wealth and power after Palle– ne– , give reasons first for the Alkmeonids’ initial return to Athens, then for Megakles’ leadership of the de– mos, and finally for his subsequent loss of that leadership because of being outbid.61 By the same token, Peisistratos’ inferior wealth up to the time of his second exile clarifies his dependence on and vulnerability to Megakles as well as his failure to maintain himself in power. It also explains Peisistratos’ campaign abroad to collect funds and allies, a collection highlighted in Herodotos’ account. Finally, it gives reason for both his and his genos’ sustained primacy and the temporary political eclipse of the Alkmeonidai after Palle– ne– (see chapter IV..B.–D).62

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The nature of the politically active de– mos, its inconstancy and precipitate reversals, must disqualify it as anything like a political party at the time of Peisistratos’ first attempted tyranny. Fluid in its allegiances, the de– mos was, through the early s, Megakles’ to influence and so to maneuver but never to own.63 It adhered to Peisistratos and his heirs for some time beyond Palle– ne– because during that time the tyrants apparently outstripped all others in their ability to distribute wealth.Yet the de– mos never “belonged” to the tyrants, the Alkmeonidai, or any politician, its changeability evident in precipitate expulsions and recalls at the end of the sixth century (and thereafter). The de– mos’ permanent “master” was gain, Solon attests; its adherence, bestowed upon those who promised to obtain it, was eminently transferable, especially if promises made were not kept.There was no apparent ideological basis for the de– mos’ adherence to any politician (aside, perhaps, from their occasional patriotic appeals, such as during the Kylonian affair and after Solon’s exhortations involving Salamis); it was, quite clearly, no party at all.The Solonian de– mos does not match the implications of Herodotos’“party of the shore”at all,except that its ostensible leader at the time was Megakles and that it could not be called the “powerful and wealthy.” We thus observe a greater gap between the Herodotean party of the shore and historical reality of the Solonian de– mos. This brings us round to Peisistratos’ “party of those beyond the hill,” which, as Andrewes so aptly understated, “gives more trouble.”64 Herodotos implies that Peisistratos mustered his third party because he was barred from establishing a city constituency but more because he had no ostensible city support.The very name of the Herodotean party, oiJ uJperavkrioi, alludes to its rural nature and contributes to the impression of its alienness from the city and city politics.65 The problems begin precisely here, for complementing that of explaining what effect a newly formed, country-based party could have had on city politics long played out in the asty and dominated by established city-centered constituencies and politicians are a number of others.66 First of all, on Herodotos’ testimony, we must actually believe that Peisistratos, who had no ostensible support in Athens, nevertheless entered the veritable den of his enemies, accused them before their constituents of trying to kill him, and then received from those constituents what he had asked for, namely, the means to subdue them all! Not only did the astoi vote Peisistratos a bodyguard, an outcome that demonstrates that he had city support in fact and casts suspicion on Herodotos’ implication of outsider status, but they also appointed themselves to be his bodyguards and so helped to establish the tyranny.67 As



, ,  

mentioned above, the “beyond-the-hills” men, far from being indispensable to the tyrant,influential of,or even participant in the course of events,were neither explicitly present on the crucial occasion of Peisistratos’ address to the assembled astoi nor designated as bodyguards.68 In fact, the hyperakrioi,like the other parties,constitute no appreciable political force whatsoever, disappearing altogether after their first and only mention in Herodotos.A political illogicality anyway in view of the long-standing political bilateralism indicated in Solon and actually (unwittingly?) seconded by Herodotos and of Peisistratos’ necessity to make his case before the astoi in Athens’ agora, the hyperakrioi are not only not defined by their actions, but they amount to no more than a name in fact.69 Small wonder, indeed, that the third Herodotean party “gives more trouble.” The utter dispensability of the phantom, indeed non-Solonian, third party on the crucial occasion of Peisistratos’ first bid for power, as well as its inherent inconsequentiality in view of political dispositions in Athens, highlights its irrelevancy and undermines its credibility. In fact, the failure of any of the Herodotean parties to play any part whatsoever in the events leading up to the first tyranny is not surprising, since, as such, they are incompatible with Solonian political realities.The incompatibility and other dissonances suggest that the parties scheme found in Herodotos was unnaturally projected onto an uncongenial historical framework, some of the contradictory outlines for which are in fact supplied by Herodotos himself. In other words, the Herodotean “parties” are a fiction.

.            The theme of the tyranny’s inevitability, predicated on Peisistratos’ divine sponsorship and surpassing cleverness, pervades Herodotos’ logos on Peisistratos’ rise to power.The theme and revisions amount to an (obviously imperfect) apology, their aim to deflect blame from the Athenians for the evidently essential part they played in enabling Peisistratos’first two tyrannies and for abiding the tyranny once established.The need for such an apology was of course created by the necessity in the fifth century to disown the veritable partnership of de– mos and tyrants, engendered by the prevailing attitude of hatred toward the tyrant.The parties are distractions from the uncomfortable yet apparently inalterable fact of Athenian collaboration with Peisistratos—a collaboration nevertheless conceded later in Herodotos’ account.70

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Distinguished from the other two parties (whose names do not match the Solonian designations of political groupings at Athens), the hyperakrioi, Peisistratos’ do-nothing, evanescent constituents, seem at first primarily to blame for the tyranny. If that is accepted by Herodotos’ readers, their distinction and the guilt attaching to them benefits the de– mos among others. Concealed to begin with by Herodotos’ introduction of regional/personal parties, the de– mos is marked off from the tyrant’s adherents; its part in the actual awarding of the bodyguard is diminished by a vague yet obviously misleading impression that Peisistratos’ party somehow commandeered the Athenian assembly and voted the bodyguard itself.Peisistratos’tyranny thus seems more superimposed from without than sanctioned from within.71 The parties’ distinctions are even more beneficial for the leaders of the preexisting staseis because, in addition to their separation from Peisistratos, both are explicitly named as his opponents from the outset and so are depicted as actual obstacles to the tyranny.This seemingly active antagonism puts them in better case in comparison with the de– mos’ relative passivity. Above all, dissociation from Peisistratos was most advantageous for the leader of the politically active de– mos, which Herodotos finally explicitly identifies as the enabler of Peisistratos’ first tyranny.Although from all indications the de– mos’ leader was Megakles, he is nowhere named as such in the account of events leading to Peisistratos’ first tyranny and, at all events, seems to be absent from what transpires. By his conspicuous absence, Megakles appears to have been absolved from any real connection to Peisistratos and, indeed, to the rather foolish de– mos (as depicted in Herodotos), which later the historian admits allowed the first tyranny. I say “conspicuous” because Herodotos subsequently portrays Megakles as in the thick of things, both powerful enough to bring down the tyranny and set it up again and, in the engineering of the second tyranny, thoroughly implicated with the de– mos as its leader. Such half-occlusions are perfectly in keeping with the imperfect revisionism that characterizes Herodotos’ logos on Peisistratos’ rise to power.

 .            D E– M O S :               Herodotos’ report of Peisistratos’ rise to his first tyranny breaks down really into two episodes, and so “strands,” of (traditional?) explanation for

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, ,  

how Peisistratos attained power: their distinction and, in fact, fundamental lack of agreement indicate that they were separately conceived and then united.The first strand amounts to no more than the naming of the three parties and their leaders and reference to Peisistratos’ constitution of the hyperakrioi (..).This, the first strand, seems to be framed with regard to the second; the latter does not connect with or follow at all from the first and seems oblivious to it. The “parties strand”lays the false trail of regional/personal political dispositions, belying, as we have seen, early-sixth-century Athenian political realities. Evidently, this strand was intended to mute the part played by the Solonian de– mos in assenting to the tyranny but above all to obscure the part played by its leader in the affair by distancing him completely from Peisistratos’ first tyranny. Its purpose was to emphasize that Peisistratos’ alien third party was a necessary prerequisite to his foray into Athenian politics and became central in his acquisition of the tyranny. The second, more developed, and apparently more factual of the two (at least in Herodotos’ account), the “deception strand” (..) begins immediately after the parties are introduced and abandoned. It acknowledges that the de– mos actually voted Peisistratos the korune– phoroi but attempts to blunt its culpability to some extent by portraying it as hapless before Peisistratos’ superior cunning (..).Those of us who live in the age of cynical and artless political public relations might well term such damage control “spin doctoring,” for, while the fact of the assembly vote could not be denied,the reasons for it could be more advantageously construed for Herodotos’ readers. However, like the “Phye-as-Athena” story later in Herodotos’account (cf..B),the deception strand is double edged, implying—though no more than implying—that the de– mos was extremely foolish because it let itself be taken in by the tyrant.72 Of course, in the fifth century the de– mos could not be criticized directly without some serious repercussions for the criticizer. The second strand contributes to the ubiquitous subtheme of Peisistratos’ surpassing cleverness, which in turn supports the logos’ overarching theme of the tyranny’s unavoidability.The parties strand seems to react to the deception strand, further removing the de– mos and its leader from culpability. Both strands are elements of the logos’ apology and explanation, the former apparently added as one better to the latter. Because it agrees more with the Solonian context and so appears at least partially factual, the deception strand subverts the parties strand by confirming that none of the artificial Herodotean staseis was in fact of any

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political account in the final analysis.That Peisistratos appeared before the seemingly indistinct de– mos of Athens, asked for and got bodyguards, and then used them to establish his tyranny is reasonable enough and may be taken as the truth or very close to it. Solon indicates that oratorical appeals were made to the massed Athenians, that they could be persuaded, and that they could award governance. In fact, the de– mos’ consent was requisite for it. In Herodotos, after hearing a speech from Peisistratos, the de– mos was persuaded and gave Peisistratos leave to establish a tyranny, voting him the korune– phoroi. Herodotos thus concedes outright that what actually got Peisistratos the tyranny had nothing at all to do with regions,parties,internal or external factions or factionalizings,or anything of the sort. Rather the deception strand, quite possibly the older but most assuredly the more historically valid of the two strands in Herodotos, depicts the undifferentiated Athenians handing over to Peisistratos the power he sought. Not only is the depiction consistent with Solon’s portrayal of assemblies and public speech in his day but also with Herodotos’ more explicit account of subsequent events.The factualness of this part of the story is further confirmed by the fact that, in view of fifth-century Athenian attitudes toward the tyranny, it would have been most unlikely for such a disclosure to have emerged in Herodotos were it false or deniable. Indeed, it is hard to imagine what other than the inescapable truth of the de– mos’concession would have made Herodotos’Athenian source(s) recount such information. The deception strand is not, however, without adulteration.That Peisistratos appeared before the de– mos traumatized and accused the gno– rimoi of trying to kill him is possible, even as Solon’s famous “mad” recitation of Salamis is possible.73 However, that the Athenians were so completely taken in by Peisistratos on this occasion is very difficult to accept, even on Herodotos’ testimony. They were by no means political neophytes or so naive when Peisistratos appeared on the scene, having been regularly involved in political affairs from at least the Kylonian crisis.Then again, Solon had amply warned the Athenians of impending tyranny in his public statements.74 Those warnings and their own political experience suggest that the Athenians knew what Peisistratos was up to when he made his case before them. More to the point, Herodotos’ passing mention of the Athenians’ high regard for Peisistratos because of the part he played in the Megarian war implies that his military success was topical at the time of the assembly’s decision and that the Athenians had made it with some consideration

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rather than emotionally,as Herodotos purports.But,as we have seen,popularity was not enough, and Peisistratos must have employed chre– mata, whether actually or promising to do so, to woo the de– mos.Yet, regardless of what Peisistratos said in the assembly or what the de– mos thought of him, he could not have promised and then supplied the de– mos sufficient chre– mata on his own to overcome the opposition of men such as Megakles, as subsequent events will show. Peisistratos must have possessed a political backer on the occasion of his plea, a “bankroller” who could support him materially and help to sway the de– mos. Logically, the crucial part in all of this must have been played by the de facto leader of the de– mos. (I return to this later.) Revisionism is surely involved with both strands in Herodotos. To acknowledge that the tyranny was simply handed to Peisistratos did not accord with fifth-century Athenian hostility toward the tyranny. It was not what Herodotos’ Athenian sources cared to recall in an unmitigated fashion for the historian, even as the further digression on Peisistratos’ rise demonstrates. Such adjustments as we detect in Herodotos’ account of that rise, from the overall theme of irresistibility to the introduction of the parties, were created to try to explain better what could not be denied but also could not go unaddressed or unaltered. Some facts emerge from all of this nonetheless: the Athenians granted Peisistratos the tyranny, and high-level collusion helped deliver it to him. What could be revised or renovated were the dimmer, interstitial events and reasons explaining why things happened as they did. (An obvious parallel to this is the way Athenian tragedians reexplained mythical happenings of the heroic age or earlier for fifth-century Athenian audiences. Of course, Herodotos unfolds the “tragic history” of Kroisos through much of his book .) The deception strand does not deny that the de– mos voted for the tyranny. It implies, however, that it really did not do so consciously, having been tricked by Peisistratos. Rather, it was Peisistratos’ extraordinary cleverness that deceived the de– mos into granting him the korune– phoroi. The unflattering characterization of the de– mos as foolish—the strand is a double-edged sword after all—was perhaps overlooked or disregarded by the unsubtle because the strand recast what the de– mos did (and what could not be denied) in more favorable terms. In fact, the characterization goes far toward identifying the likeliest source for the deception strand, as we shall see. Very possibly an offshoot of it, the parties strand endeavored to remove more of the onus from the de– mos and its leader by establishing definite

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distinctions between them and Peisistratos.75 If, as Greek readers or listeners, we accept the drift of the parties strand, the de– mos, and above all its leader were not involved at all. (Of course, that drift is undone in Herodotos immediately thereafter, but both strands need not have circulated among the Athenians exactly as they appear in Herodotos or even simultaneously. It could well be that Herodotos brought them together without real regard to their contradictoriness.) Both strands benefit most the de– mos’ leader, who, unnamed in Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ first attempt at tyranny, had ostensibly nothing at all to do with either the tyrant or the “silly” de– mos and its subsequent surrender. On appearances, that leader was absent from it all. The source for such treatment of the de– mos’ leader should obviously be connected with him somehow.

.      -    ’        On the basis of Megakles’ subsequent activities and centrality in events and of the political entrenchment and power that that implies, it is impossible to think that Megakles was, as he seems to have been in Herodotos’ account, absent from the events leading to Peisistratos’ first tyranny. Megakles was an established city politician when Peisistratos arrived on the scene according to Herodotos, and the historian states explicitly that Megakles contributed to bringing down the first tyranny. Herodotos thus attests to Megakles’ formidable power both before and after the tyranny was “seized” by Peisistratos the first time.To effect the second tyranny, which came about, on appearances, from Megakles’ will, but most certainly on his initiative, the Alkmeonid had nevertheless to obtain the consent of the de– mos for Peisistratos. Megakles’ means of influence was undoubtedly his chre– mata. We know that he had it and in abundance; we also know that the de– mos wanted it and that Peisistratos really had nothing with which to compete with Megakles’.Thus, if Peisistratos lacked the means to bid for the second tyranny on his own and had to rely on the established city politician Megakles as the de– mos’ leader in any case, he can hardly have been in a stronger position before his first bid for power and so must have relied then on the wealthy, politically cynical Megakles. In Herodotos’ account, the de– mos on its own is finally responsible for the first tyranny, but that is surely the product of the revisionism with which Herodotos’ source(s) supplied him and by which his account of Peisistratos’ rise was informed.As Megakles was indispensable

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for Peisistratos’ second tyranny, as leader of the de– mos then, Megakles could not have been absent from events but must figure at the center of the events leading to Peisistratos’ first tyranny. It is surely he who allowed or perhaps even encouraged the de– mos to vote Peisistratos what he needed to become tyrant. The response to the reality of his unsavory collusion by Megakles’ progeny, the presumptive sources for Herodotos here inasmuch as Megakles is the prime beneficiary of the revisions, was to refashion his role in the events, in part by making him the leader of an entirely distinct, actually nonexistent “party of the shore.” That refashioning simultaneously maintained his importance as a politician while it detached him from Peisistratos, the de– mos, and the first tyranny, and in extenso depicted him less as a collaborator and more as a fighter against tyranny.That the Alkmeonidai were perpetual tyrant haters is exactly what they wanted their Greek contemporaries to believe about them and is precisely what Herodotos wrote about them with regard to the tyranny.76 (It is to be noted that Megakles only explicitly collaborates with Peisistratos once in Herodotos, and even then blame for so doing could be laid against Lykourgos, the opponent who, as it were, forced him to do so.) Unlike the collaboration leading to the second tyranny, owning up to participation in the first was apparently something Megakles’ heirs could not tolerate, perhaps because it was somehow more damaging to do so.The embarrassing facts of Alkmeonid participation in the tyranny—the sixthcentury archon list shows that Kleisthenes was archon right after Hippias and a later marriage alliance is a likelihood—including Megakles’ collaboration, dovetailed with the strong suspicion that during the Marathon campaign the Alkmeonidai had actively been involved in treason with the Peisistratidai.The weight of this opprobrium and the distrust their actions and motives engendered in the Athenians caused them to recast their records in their own ways.77 Certainly the Alkmeonidai were far more vulnerable to retroactive charges of collaboration than any other Athenians genos because of the embarrassing facts.Their attempts to mask or alter perceptions of Megakles’ roles in Peisistratos’ tyrannies in Herodotos, which were very likely due both to undeniable public record and their keenly felt vulnerability to the apparently relentless recollection of such charges, are simultaneously clear-cut, unsubtle, and frequently inept. Their failings notwithstanding, Megakles was surely meant to be the prime beneficiary of these. No other obviously powerful politician is as conspicuously absent when

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actually helping Peisistratos or as conspicuously present when actually challenging him. The Alkmeonidai were surely the primary sources for most of the information that appears in Herodotos on Peisistratos’ rise, including that on the parties.78

B. Reconstruction of Events Leading to Peisistratos’ First Tyranny What may we conclude from this analysis and so introduce as factual into the reconstruction of the events leading up to Peisistratos’ first tyranny? Although we cannot pinpoint the time of Peisistratos’ decision to seek the tyranny, it is reasonable to think that it materialized in some substantive form after Nisaia, when Peisistratos had gained popularity and so possibility. (Of course, this is not to say that such personal ambition was lacking in Peisistratos even as a youth.) On the basis of Solon’s depiction of political conditions in Athens, however, although he had led the Athenians to victory in the war against the Megarians, Peisistratos could not attain political success on his own, as an outsider, and so must enlist the support of an established city leader, since city constituencies were entrenched and held the key to political success at Athens.All the evidence we have points to Megakles, the son of Alkmeon and leader of the de– mos as that supporter. Just as he would do later, Megakles threw his support to Peisistratos in an effort to overcome his rival, Lykourgos, the son of Aristolaïdes, and thus to advance his own political agenda. He may have even invited Peisistratos to become tyrant, since in his case the Kylonian pollution apparently constituted an insuperable obstacle to his own advancement to it.There is, of course, no information in Herodotos about who approached whom, but of the two Megakles was politically more experienced and astute and it is fair to assume that he saw a chance in Peisistratos to capitalize on the latter’s renown and to make headway against Lykourgos, even as he would do later. Megakles invited Peisistratos to take a second tyranny, indicating his necessary participation in any restoration, and he surely had no less power before Peisistratos came to be tyrant the first time. Peisistratos was a good candidate for tyrant: war hero, unpolluted, capable, and widely popular. He was, in short, what Megakles was not. On the other hand, Peisistratos was neither wealthy nor politically established within Athens: he did not have the means to turn his qualities to profit by himself. Megakles did.As it was for the second tyranny of Peisistratos, so it must have been for with the first: Mega-



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kles was the necessary linchpin.His ability to make and unmake the tyrant is evident in Herodotos.The two, Megakles and Peisistratos, worked together symbiotically for a short time. Thus shortly before or even during the archonship of Komeas (– ...), Peisistratos and Megakles reached an accord whereby Peisistratos would seek the tyranny and Megakles would support him.To that end, for his part, Megakles would help to persuade the de– mos, endeavoring to encourage it to assent to the tyranny. His partisans would prepare the crowd in the agora to receive favorably Peisistratos’ actual plea for what he required,and,along with verbal encouragement,the requisite chre– mata could be supplied to sweeten the de– mos’receptiveness and clinch the deal. It is possible that, in addition, Peisistratos engaged in some sort of deceit, though not necessarily on the order of that reported in Herodotos. (The historian undermines the notion of such foolishness when he states that the Athenians were minded of Peisistratos’ war record.) Solon’s poems indicate that Athenian politicians of his day made promises to the de– mos in order to obtain power: even the lawgiver himself made promises that he did not keep. Peisistratos’ verbal deception may have been matched by physical deception, but in any case we must imagine that the Athenians saw gain for themselves in Peisistratos’ tyranny and it would come as no surprise if he promised them just that. Of course, Peisistratos’ popularity made it easier for them to succumb to the persuasion, as Herodotos suggests, many having some memory of his deeds in the Megarian war if they did not actually serve in it themselves. Happily deceived by Peisistratos’ promises, plied by Megakles’ agents, favorably inclined toward Peisistratos for his war record anyway, and perhaps taken in by the power of his oratory on the occasion—Peisistratos must have been a creditable speaker at least—the de– mos voted Peisistratos what he (and Megakles) needed to establish his tyranny.79

C. Peisistratos’ First Tyranny: Its Nature and Functioning . The Early “Partnership” with Megakles Herodotos (..) observes that during the first tyranny Peisistratos,“having disturbed neither the existing offices nor changed any of the ancestral laws, managed the city according to the existing customs, ordering things up fairly and well.”80 This spare pronouncement might seem generic for “good Greek tyrants.” It is to be taken as accurate for Peisistratos, since, in

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view of the pernicious fifth-century attitude of the Athenians toward the tyrants, we should imagine that any “bad” conduct would emerge to contradict it. Indeed, as vague as it may seem, Herodotos’ observation is an indicator that really nothing memorably bad, either extralegal or “tyrannical,” attached to the period of Peisistratos’ first tyranny. Pervasive fifth-century silence or apology about Peisistratos’ rule, a concomitant of the ruefulness and anger the Athenians felt for the period of the tyranny, could have contributed to suppressing information about Peisistratos’ first spell of rule. In fact, very little of the “day-to-day” of Peisistratos’ rule must have been outstanding or memorable, especially if, as Herodotos says, nothing was done to upset the governmental status quo.81 Thucydides essentially choruses Herodotos, saying that the Peisistratids used the existing laws but “always managed to keep one of their own in office.”82 That management is in fact borne out by the fragment of the archon list, which shows that, for the later s at least, the Peisistratids or their cooperatives held the eponymous archonships.83 This brings us round once again to Megakles and what he got for supporting Peisistratos. Surely Megakles, like that other “backer,”Theagenes, was to receive concrete rewards for his help, no mere “thank-yous.” Co-rule or access to the akropolis, that seat and sign of power and trust among the Athenians, were out of the question.The Athenians may have sanctioned the return of the tainted Alkmeonidai to Athens, which was, of course, made more agreeable because of the chre– mata they brought with them and distributed,but they could not allow them to possess the akropolis, the holy ground which they had only recently defiled.84 Barred from functioning as or possessing the authority of a tyrant because of the pollution attaching to his house, Megakles could yet be the power behind the throne, especially if he “owned” the offices. Although Megakles’ power may have been nontraditional, it was real and it was considerable. He possessed more money and experience in influencing that crucial group, the de– mos, than did Peisistratos, who had to rely upon Megakles for support. By installing what he must have reckoned would be a puppet, Megakles probably assumed that he, not Peisistratos, had become the real ruler of Athens. If that is so and Megakles’ instrumentality in Peisistratos’ first tyranny was, as it seems to have been, necessary in realizing it, then his design was surely to restore Alkmeonid authority in Athens as much as he could with himself as the head of the genos and with the field swept clean of opponents—apparently just as it was in the days before the Kylonian affair.

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, ,  

The political activity and offices held by the Alkmeonidai at the time of Kylon’s seizure of the akropolis suggest that the genos aspired then to a monopoly of political power at Athens. If that is so, then Megakles’ end of the bargain with Peisistratos was most likely to see his own men, that is, the eligible Alkmeonidai and their philoi, into the political offices the genos seems to have coveted. Presumably, Peisistratos assisted the Alkmeonids to attain those offices during the first tyranny. That is how affairs were managed later during the tyranny, and it makes a good deal of sense for the period of the first tyranny. In view of the evidence, which states explicitly that Peisistratos did not disrupt the ancestral laws during the first tyranny and is in fact credible, it was the only kind of management possible. Real power, as Megakles knew it, was invested in elective offices, since, of course, the tyranny was not defined constitutionally.These offices should belong to him and his own, as they had long ago.85 Megakles only wanted, then, what his genos had lost: all the institutional political power. One imagines that, when the realization dawned on Peisistratos, he grew dissatisfied with his arrangement with Megakles and took steps to strengthen his own position. . The Akropolis and the “Club-Bearers” (korune–phoroi) Herodotos says (..) that, when Peisistratos took the akropolis and established his tyranny, he did so in the company of korune–phoroi, “clubbearers,” who had been voted for him from among the Athenians by the de– mos.This information, only part of which I take to be valid, evokes two immediate questions: did Peisistratos dwell upon the akropolis thereafter? Secondly, who or what were the “club-bearers” and what function did they perform? As to the first, scholarly opinion is divided. On the one hand, the akropolis seems the appropriate place for Peisistratos and his bodyguard in order both to control Athens and to reign appropriately after the manner of a Homeric basileus.86 On the other hand, and for many of the same reasons, the akropolis was the wrong place to dwell. Athens would have seemed garrisoned, the akropolis something other than Athena’s abode and the distinction between Peisistratos and the Athenians too great, especially when he appears to have sought the image of a “democratic” tyrant. It would not serve Peisistratos to remind the Athenians of such distinction and residency on the akropolis, the seat of the gods and ancient heroes, would do just that.87

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Herodotos offers no help whatsoever to resolve the issue.The verb the historian uses to describe Peisistratos’ seizure, e[scon, indicates a one-time occurrence: Peisistratos could have “seized” the akropolis and then descended from it and taken up residence below.88 Nor, when later “Athena” led Peisistratos back to “her own city” (viz., the akropolis: Hdt. ..), is it possible to infer that Peisistratos resided continuously on the “high city” thereafter. There is later information involving Hippias that might suggest his residency on the akropolis very late in his tyranny, but even if that is true it is not valid merely to anachronize it and apply it to the early tyrannies of Peisistratos.89 The archaeological evidence we possess for the period also offers no help. Some of the possible dwellings that have come to light from excavations on the akropolis may be dated to the period of the tyranny, but they could be taken to be either residencies or religious structures.90 In a recent study of the akropolis, Hurwit points out that there are no traces of Peisistratid dedications from the akropolis for the period, an absence that must be seen as anomalous if they had actually dwelled there and in view of their record of dedications elsewhere.91 Of course, the dearth of Peisistratid dedications on the akropolis could be explained as resulting from the damnatio of the tyrants after the tyranny ended, as well as from the wholesale destruction of the akropolis during the Persian sack in  ...92 A likelier candidate for a Peisistratid “palace,” many have believed is the so-called Building F of the agora. A capacious structure without contemporary equal in Athens, according to some a “private villa, not a public hall,” this might seem more appropos for the “democratic” tyrant. Of course, all of this is mere speculation.93 There is, quite simply, no firm evidence upon which to base any conclusion. In lieu of that, we may resort once more to context.The akropolis was the very center of the political and religious life of the polis: it was sacred ground and entirely implicated with the identity of the Athenians as such. Just how sensitive the Athenians were to occupancy of the akropolis is amply demonstrated in the reaction of the de– mos to Kylon’s seizure of it before Peisistratos and Isagoras’ and Kleomenes’ seizure of it afterward.The Athenians were sharply reactive to those they deemed to be unworthy of such occupancy.94 We should also not forget that the akropolis was essentially indefensible over time: it was certainly no place to resist a serious siege.Though, again, Kylon and Kleomenes took and held the place with considerable

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force, neither could hold out for any length of time, both capitulating to besiegers really after only a few days.95 Clearly, those allowed on the akropolis were permitted to be there by the Athenians living below it. On the basis of the Athenians’ sensitivity about the “high city” and who should and should not be on it, because Peisistratos would enjoy no real advantage dwelling there, and because Peisistratos did in fact court Athenian public favor, it seems unlikely that he actually lived on the akropolis day to day.There was no need, after all, once the Athenians had voted him the tyranny, but much was to be gained by settling in unobtrusively among the Athenians in the asty (and by that I do not mean in Building F.)96 There is yet one more indication. Occupying the akropolis could be construed as a truly despotic act, comparable to the occupations by Kylon and Isagoras. In effect, Peisistratos would have controlled what belonged to all Athenians.That would have redounded upon him because it could be construed as illegal.97 We have no such indication in any source, although there are the counterindications of such an act. Peisistratos did not change “any of the ancestral laws, [but] managed the city according to the existing customs, ordering things up fairly and well.”98 Any who argue for his residency on the akropolis would have to explain such counterindications.99 Thus, from what we may know of Athenian sensibilities, on balance it seems unlikely that Peisistratos “lived atop the Acropolis in a mansion or a palace, protected by the old Mycenaean fortification wall and by bodyguards and mercenaries who had their barracks on the summit nearby.”100 Such a pronouncement is an anachronism and disregards both evidence and context for the period of the tyranny. Since the akropolis was indefensible over time and those who took it must come down at length, we may think that its “seizure” was but a temporary and symbolic gesture, indicating the favor of the gods and the Athenians. Success or failure depended on how the Athenians reacted. In the cases of Kylon and Isagoras, that reaction was unfavorable; in the case of Peisistratos, the Athenians allowed it, we do not know for how long, but they ended his first two tyrannies by withdrawing their favor and, of course, any control he might have exercised over the akropolis. While there was most surely a sense among the Athenians that Athena must favor the one who would be taken to “her city” (viz., Peisistratos), that favor could only be obtained through them. Force really had nothing to do with it (cf. section .B). Peisistratos’ presence on the akropolis should then have been intermittent,not continuous,perhaps to “sacrifice the sacrifices” of the city as needed.

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This brings us to the related topic of the korune– phoroi. Many scholars have taken Herodotos’ information (..) literally:“the de– mos of the Athenians were deceived and chose and gave to him [sc. Peisistratos] men from the city who were not his spear-bearers (doryphoroi) but his clubbearers (korune– phoroi) For, holding wooden clubs, these would follow behind him. These joined together with Peisistratos in rebellion and seized the akropolis.” Some believe that Peisistratos was actually attended by club-bearers.101 However, the anomalousness of the korune– phoroi and Herodotos’ apparent discomfort with them are highlighted even by his tautologous description of them and their actions: these are clearly not the usual bodyguards of a tyrant, the doryphoroi.102 There is further reason to consider the korune– phoroi quite unusual. It has been amply noted that club-bearers were no match for hoplites or even for men with swords and that they could not have held their own, let alone withstood an attack by the Athenians or others more strongly armed, whether they were entrenched upon the akropolis or not. In fact, the korune– phoroi constituted no bodyguard at all.103 One recent attempt to compensate for the obvious weakness of the club-bearers in the face of spear-bearers proposes that the korune– phoroi were really rearmed by Peisistratos as doryphoroi.104 Such an explanation strains to make sense of such anomalies but fails because it disregards Herodotos’ emphatic statement that those with Peisistratos were “club-bearers” and that he explicitly differentiates them from doryphoroi. There is thus nothing whatsoever to recommend the uncontextualized conjecture that the korune– phoroi were, to Herodotos’ mind, really doryphoroi. As the korune– phoroi were unusual,so we must seek an extraordinary explanation for them. In fact, we haven’t far to proceed.We have already seen that the Athenian sources for Herodotos went to some lengths to obfuscate the truth of Peisistratos’ rise, apparently because of their ancestors’ complacency or involvement with the tyranny.We must therefore consider first of all whether the korune– phoroi could be part of the apology to or revision of the facts of Peisistratos’ rise, that is, of the context of Herodotos’ account. I have argued elsewhere that the korune– phoroi were invented by Herodotos’ source and not by Herodotos precisely to deflect attention from—and blame for—the fact that the Peisistratids actually possessed Athenian doryphoroi.105 Not only is there evidence for these but also for the unwelcomeness of the memory of the doryphoroi, which persisted well into the fifth century ..., especially among those whose Athenian ancestors could be accused of serving the tyrants in that capacity. In the

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climate of hatred toward the tyrants, recollection of such service could be at least embarrassing and at worst, extremely pernicious. Herodotos’ (source’s) substitution of korune– phoroi for doryphoroi may be taken as yet another facet of the apology for the roles played by the Athenians during the tyranny. Labeling the initial bodyguard korune– phoroi instead of doryphoroi qualified them as nontraditional bodyguards and presumably helped to occlude the memory of those who accompanied Peisistratos. In Herodotos, these were city-men who had accompanied him in his first ascent of the akropolis.106 Peisistratos, who was popular with the de– mos and must have been at least equally so among the veterans of the war with Megara, undoubtedly went up to the akropolis with a sanctioned group of doryphoroi of unspecified number.107 These were probably no more than a kind of honor guard.108 Indeed, because they were men selected from among the citizens, these doryphoroi, whoever they were, could hardly have constituted anything like an elite unit—they were explicitly not men from the diakria— and they would not have dwelled on the akropolis. Furthermore, they could not have been anything like a coercive bodyguard, since they did not perform any such functions. (Peisistratos was held to be law abiding and was not remembered as high-handed or coercive in any way.) The doryphoroi at this early stage of the tyranny must have acted as accompaniers, serving more for prestige than pay.109 It is no stretch to imagine that some of the veterans of the Megarian war would gladly have served their old commander in this capacity. If there was any coercive work to be done—and that is again highly unlikely in view of Peisistratos’ lawabiding reputation—it was surely performed by Peisistratos’ philoi, a band that, as we have seen, he may have brought with him from the diakria or that may have coalesced around him during the war with Megara.110 The philoi, his “crew” as it were, would have comprised his inner circle, not the doryphoroi. Perhaps the doryphoroi became a stepping-stone to advancement in the tyrannical regime, and into that “crew” once Peisistratos had firmly established himself. . Peisistratos’ Governance and the End of the First Entente with Megakles We are told by Thucydides (..) that the Peisistratids assessed a  percent tax, but that is unlikely to have occurred during Peisistratos’ first or second tyrannies,if in fact it was ever assessed by him.111 Such a tax would

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have been alienating to the very de– mos upon whose goodwill Peisistratos relied. Moreover, an effective mechanism for collecting the tax was needed, and, since the first tyranny was apparently quite brief, Peisistratos had little time for organizing any such a collection system.112 Subsequent events leading to Peisistratos’expulsions indicate that he continued to lack chre– mata and remained dependent on Megakles. What,then,did Peisistratos do during his first,very brief period of rule? The tyrant’s first order of business was to strengthen his position, and that meant, above all, to maintain and expand his standing and the goodwill of the Athenian de– mos. Presumably, he did this by unobtrusive rule, as Herodotos suggests.113 Apart from that,it seems likely that Peisistratos enlisted allies outside of Athens. Plausible testimony from the Ath.Pol. (.), very possibly deriving from an Atthis, states that it was during the first period of tyranny that Peisistratos concluded a marriage alliance with Gorgilos of Argos, wedding his daughter Timonassa. It was this marriage that probably led to the undoing of Peisistratos’ first tyranny.114 According to Herodotos, sometime after the establishment of the first tyranny Megakles joined with Lykourgos to oust Peisistratos. Events seem to have unfolded rapidly, the expulsion was sudden, and Peisistratos’ flight was apparently precipitous. In fact, he had no recourse but to withdraw outside of the “pale” of Athens.115 Since it seems all but certain that Megakles had allowed the first tyranny, a breach is indicated. But what caused it? The only known fact of the first tyranny is the Argive marriage alliance, which could well have wrecked the understanding between Megakles and Peisistratos (see appendix C..B.). Megakles’ reason for supporting Peisistratos in the first place was surely to control Athens in his own way. Since Peisistratos was relatively young, relatively impoverished, and clearly needed Megakles, he was undoubtedly regarded by the Alkmeonid as his political creature,not only indebted to him but in his pocket. Peisistratos, the victor at Nisaia, the “new Melanthos,” will have chafed under any such dominance and, clever as he seems to have been, apparently sought his own means to shed the necessity of Megakles.The entente could not last for long: each wanted to be his own man and control Athens. It is certainly reasonable to think that an external marriage alliance brought about the breach, just as marriage to Megakles’ daughter had temporarily healed it. (Perhaps Peisistratos had agreed to marry the girl as the price for the first tyranny and the marriage to Timonassa disrupted that plan.)116 The Argive alliance was not the best of options for Peisistratos: it hints in fact of desperation. Gorgilos was powerful, perhaps, but not outstanding

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beyond Argos it appears, and Timonassa, no Agariste, had already been married to the very dim Kypselid light,Archinos, tyrant of Ambrakia. She does not seem to have commanded the attentions of the upper-echelon tyrant houses in Greece. Still, Peisistratos needed his own makeweight for Megakles, and he could hardly turn to Lykourgos. Knowing the extent of his weakness before Megakles, Peisistratos appears to have taken what offered itself and would strengthen his hand at Athens. Presumably, he was simply following in the footsteps of Kylon and Megakles himself—both of whom secured such alliances,and that is probably what concerned the Alkmeonid. While there is no direct evidence to support what I have suggested, something caused the breach that led to the ouster of Peisistratos from his first tyranny, and the marriage alliance is the one fact we possess about Peisistratos’ first tyranny. Monarchy could not have two claimants, and both Megakles and Peisistratos seem to have positioned and repositioned themselves during the periods of the first two tyrannies, jockeying for advantage.The fact of Megakles’ real power could well have spurred Peisistratos’ Argive alliance, which in turn caused Megakles to align himself with Lykourgos to oust Peisistratos.That reshuffling of power thereafter caused Megakles to make overtures to Peisistratos and the latter to accept them. Peisistratos’ relative weakness—he surely had no real power at Athens but that which was allowed to him by Megakles during the first two tyrannies—and Megakles’ strength are amply demonstrated by the events involving the second tyranny of Peisistratos.

.  ’        A. Introduction According to Herodotos (..–), almost immediately after he had united with Lykourgos to expel Peisistratos, Megakles broke with him and presented Peisistratos with a proposition. If Peisistratos would marry his daughter, Megakles would help restore him to the tyranny at Athens. Together they devised yet another strategy, devolving upon what, according to Herodotos, was ludicrous and unbelievable in fact. A young girl from the deme of Paiania, Phye by name,“tall and handsome” and dressed as Athena, rode in a chariot with Peisistratos back to Athens. Messengers (one presumes Megakles’) who had been sent ahead primed the crowd to receive the pair, saying “Here is Athena leading back her favored one to her own high city.” The Athenians, according to Herodotos, were

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“taken in” by the show and welcomed (and even prayed to) Peisistratos and Phye-as-Athena. By their acclamation and permission to “hold” the akropolis again, they restored Peisistratos to the tyranny. Herodotos terms the latter episode “the silliest thing he had ever heard of.”117 Herodotos subsequently recounts the consequences of Peisistratos’ marriage to Megakles’ daughter. Peisistratos,“already having children and the Alkmeonidai being accursed, did not want to have children with his newly-wedded wife.”He did not therefore consummate the marriage,but had sex with the girl ouj kata; novmon.The girl, not completely naive about such things—if she was naive, she would presumably not have known that anything was amiss—hid this at first, but then related it at length to her mother,“whether her mother asked her or not.” Mother, in turn, told father and this was the beginning of the end of the second tyranny.Wroth because of the insult to himself—and, of course, the nullification of the alliance—Megakles united with his former antagonist Lykourgos and drove Peisistratos once again from the tyranny.118 We need not doubt that Megakles and Peisistratos combined for a second tyranny, even as they had before, for each was proven incapable of furthering his agenda at Athens without the other. Megakles’ political dependence on Peisistratos is confirmed by his need to restore him to the tyranny. Of course, Megakles was indispensable to Peisistratos as well, for he was unable on his own to obtain or retain the tyranny. Neither could establish the tyranny (obviously at Lykourgos’ expense) without the other at this stage of things, both required the de– mos and the influence that the other had over it. Indeed, in Herodotos we detect a tripartite relationship among Peisistratos, the de– mos, and Megakles: the popularity and fitness for rule of Peisistratos was so acknowledged by the de– mos and conceded by Megakles; the power to appoint its own governors was clearly understood of the de– mos both by Megakles and Peisistratos, who played to it; and, finally, the persuasiveness (and so political necessity) of chre– mata was acknowledged by all. All three, the de– mos’ conceded power, Peisistratos’ popularity, and the persuasiveness of Megakles’ chre– mata, were needed for the tyranny to be established and then to continue.

B. Peisistratos and “Athena”: The Significance of the Phye Pageant The curious affair of the young Paianian girl Phye playing Athena and leading Peisistratos back to Athens in a chariot has captured the imagina-

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tions of grizzled scholars and innocent students alike and seems to have done so since Herodotos’ time.119 An interesting story even on its face, Herodotos makes it more so by ridiculing the Athenians for being taken in by it. It was the “silliest” thing he had ever heard. Quite a claim, but can we believe it? Most scholars now agree that Herodotos was somehow misled in his thinking and that the pageant of Phye-as-Athena held real, though some think implicit, meaning for sixth-century Athenians, the nuancing of which is not at all immediately apparent to modern readers, even as at least some of it seems not to have been to Herodotos. Now, because of his sources, Herodotos may have been led to his emphatic disbelief. Indeed, inasmuch as negative sentiments toward the de– mos are to be found in Herodotos’ logos on Peisistratos’ rise, since the source for the logos is almost surely Alkmeonid, and as the Alkmeonidai famously and severely ridiculed the de– mos elsewhere, the famous sneer about the sheer stupidity of the de– mos in Herodotos is more likely to be Alkmeonid than Herodotean. (It obviously becomes Herodotos’, but it could hardly have originated with him.) Because of Herodotos’ high regard for the Alkmeonidai for their attitudes toward and interpretations of the information he gives them with regard to the tyrants and their associations with them, the historian could overlook or disregard the meanings implicit in the Phye pageant in favor of dismissing it with them as utterly ridiculous.120 There are several reasons for believing that the Athenians of the sixth century were not taken in by the famous chariot ride. Connor, in an important article on the episode, suggested that, quite to the contrary of what is implied by Herodotos’ pronouncement on the Athena procession, the Athenians of the sixth century genuinely accepted Peisistratos’ identification with the goddess.121 The onlookers were not fooled by Phyeas-Athena but became willing participants and accepted the image because of the occasion and its dramatic and cultural moment; the pageant became therefore a successful means of communication. This is surely along the right track. Sinos, enlarging on that suggestion, stated that Peisistratos “was attempting to join the ranks of other distinguished rulers who presented their laws and reforms as the will of the gods” but that the Athenian audience, transformed by the occasion, actually saw Phye as Athena.The main problem with Sinos’ reconstruction, which goes well beyond what the evidence will permit, is that the connections between Peisistratos and “Athena” are drawn too obliquely or tenuously;122 Connor simply does not go far enough.

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It is to be emphasized that the pageant was not a communitysanctioned religious occasion but a political one, as it were, forced on the Athenians. How they would react is not implicit in the nature of the pageant because of its unprecedented nature.The “drama,” such as it was, was quite unique—Herodotos assures us of that—and the values, images, and nuances primarily political. (Of course, Herodotos’ disbelief is premised in part on the fact that he knew of nothing like it.) De Libero, adopting a more political interpretation, suggested that Peisistratos gave proof by his “ceremonial de rentrée” of his renewed involvement with the contest for the tyranny. Essentially a publicity stunt, the extravagance of the pageant was designed by Peisistratos to draw attention to himself in the language of power politics and enlarge his basis of support among the Athenians. But this explanation, too, is inadequate, since it fails to explain why Peisistratos and Megakles chose this precise means, instead of some other, to gain that attention when, Solon and Herodotos both assure us, other means were available.123 Although these interpretations are unsatisfactory because they are too narrowly cast or attenuated, they are valuable as pointers, for they show that a politico-religious construction, neither a singular nor an inconstruable polyvalent one in this case, is needed for understanding the episode better. Blok, in a recent construction of the event, notes that any attempt to come to a satisfactory interpretation of the incident with Phye is hampered by three problems.124 First, Herodotos and all other ancient authors (whose information in any case is to be traced to Herodotos) cannot be trusted to have given a full account of it because they could not make sense of it.Second,while there are some examples of such processions later,comparative cases are lacking, for that of Phye in the sixth century is truly an isolated case. Finally, we do not know when exactly the procession (pompe–) took place and so cannot know how the pageant is to be construed among the political manoeuvres of Peisistratos and his colleagues. Blok, who offers an interpretation anyway in spite of the impediments she lists, overstates the seriousness of these. First of all, whether or not the ancient authors believed it and whatever they reported about it, the Phye pageant happened and we can only construe it on the basis of what we have in the context of Athens at the time of the second tyranny.125 Second, for that reason, it matters very little that there are no contemporary comparanda.We need not, indeed we must not, consider the pageant as generic but unique, even as Herodotos indicates it was. Finally, for the timing of the pompe– we must take Herodotos at his word: the procession

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included Phye-as-Athena and Peisistratos;it was “performed”before a live audience of Athenians; and others encouraged the Athenians to accept what they saw. Moreover, it occurred after the bargain had been struck between Peisistratos and Megakles and before Peisistratos was installed as tyrant a second time.That was obviously the best time for it anyway. The pageant must be construed within the context of contemporary Athenian sensibilities about Athena in company with Peisistratos. Blok’s impediments are really only that if the contexts for the information and the pageant are ignored.126 My explanation for the Phye procession proceeds by accepting both Herodotos’ sequencing and his description of events: his indirect remarks about its uniqueness seem to me to guarantee its authenticity; it was witnessed by many after all and was memorable. Let us examine some of the contextual factors. First, the pageant had to have been the brainstorm of Megakles and must be connected with his proposal to Peisistratos and the attempt of both to reinstate the latter: it was deemed integral to their effort to re-create the tyranny.127 Second, as such, the procession was designed to suggest positive things to the Athenians about Peisistratos and a second tyranny and thus to reinforce their optimism or to allay their fears or, more likely, both. In short, it was meant to “sell” Peisistratos to them yet again.Third,the fact that “Athena”was employed to “lead [Peisistratos] back to [her] city” introduces a specific politico-religious aspect that must have been central to the intentions of Megakles and Peisistratos in devising the pageant: the “Athena” figure was for them the necessary linchpin for what they intended, and that is obviously significant. Indeed, the pageant must be interpreted in light of the Athenians’ veneration and ideas of their goddess and of her significance to them there in the early sixth century ..., that is, in the context of what Athena meant to them at the time the pageant occurred. Finally, whatever meaning is to be derived from the pageant it cannot involve Peisistratos or “Athena”alone but must take both together into account.The implication of the two,not the highlighting of one in any way discernible over the other, was the point of the exercise after all.128 For the Athenians, politics and religion were united in the goddess Athena, just as they were in her abode on the akropolis; we remember, though, that the design of the pageant was more political than religious. First, there was the immediate, the visual impact.What did the confederates want the impression of such “theater” to convey? What did the Athenians perceive on viewing the spectacle? In Herodotos,Athena stands by

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Peisistratos but says nothing; rather, the attendants call out to the Athenians to regard the apparition and accept their shouted captioning. (These were the minions of Megakles, as were those surely who “worshiped” Peisistratos, if indeed that actually happened.) We must, then, agree with Sinos about the tableau of “Athena,” for even the chariot ride of itself would endow Peisistratos with a larger than life image:“By riding a chariot into the city, [Peisistratos] presented the superhuman image seen in vase paintings of warriors . . . and in the ritual entry of a victor returning to his city.”129 Specifically, and because it was “Athena” who accompanied Peisistratos, the immediate heroic image conjured would most likely have been the common, Homeric one and, one imagines, it was instantaneously conceived. (Of course, this fits right in with the kind of heroic age propaganda myth Peisistratos seems to have advanced earlier about himself: see chapter II..C.) Perhaps the most immediate Homeric connection of hero and goddess that the Athenians would make is to Diomedes who is led against the war god Ares by his charioteer Athena (Iliad .ff.)130 This ride is in many ways the culmination of the aristeia (displays of martial excellence) of Diomedes, whose spearing of Aphrodite and then of Ares in company with Athena marks him out in this very memorable scene as a hero of outstanding stature, a cultural one at that. Diomedes wounds the cause of the war, Aphrodite, while later Athena helps cause Ares, the dreaded war god, momentarily to withdraw from battle: the righteous together defeat the unrighteous.131 It is reasonable to think that Megakles and Peisistratos calculated that the Athenians, recalling the accomplishments of Peisistratos as a warrior, would regard him in company with “Athena” as heroic in that Homeric vein, a redoubtable vanquisher of Athens’ and Athena’s foes (Eris or Ares himself?) and a bringer or restorer of order to the city. The second,perhaps less obvious image conjured was very possibly that of Odysseus, for whom Athena was a special patron and who, of course, was renowned for cleverness.132 Peisistratos was deemed extraordinarily cunning—the idea may have been rooted in the tactics employed during the Megarian war (cf.chapter II..C.–D.)—and the confederates’ idea may have been to draw attention to this outstanding quality. His cunning, like Odysseus’, was surely derived from Athena’s patronage.133 Like Odysseus and Athena,so,too,did Peisistratos own a special relationship with the goddess. It was a partnership in fact, just as the pageant depicted their relationship to be. In fact, that partnership is exactly what those who ran before and around the chariot proclaimed. The epiphany appears intended to

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mark Peisistratos as a hero in the easily recognizable Homeric mold (like Diomedes in the Iliad)—the tyrant was,after all,proven for might and martial excellence through his megala erga—but also as a hero for a newer age, who, as Odysseus (in the Odyssey), could cope with problems as they presented themselves through his intelligence. All three enjoyed special relations with the goddess, whose presence signified her favor and her implication with them.134 Surely much of this dawned (or at least was meant to dawn) on the Athenians as they witnessed the procession. While all of these impressions may have been intended and perceived, they will surely have taken a second seat to what the image of Athena connoted specifically to the Athenians of the time, since these connotations presented themselves most immediately. One piece of roughly contemporary specifically Athenian evidence may help us understand those connotations better.In the first few lines of F W,–,Solon describes Athens embroiled in what appears to be the turmoil of a stasis, which led to his special commission: Our polis will never be destroyed by the decree of Zeus nor by the intentions of the holy gods immortal, For such a great-hearted sentinel, the daughter of the thundering god, Pallas Athena holds her hands out over it.135 Solon goes on to say that people, the de– mos and its leadership, are what destroy a city and implies that that is exactly what will happen to Athens if the astoi do not heed him and his corrective words. Solon’s expression finds reference in Homeric epic, although Solon has refashioned it to refer specifically to Athens and its condition.136 The Athenians understood Athena to be present on the akropolis, a presence to which Solon refers with the word hyperthen (from above).The security and well-being of the polis were implicated with Athena’s well-being and that of her abode there.The importance of the latter as the very soul of the polis is guaranteed by its role as the focus of seizure and reaction to seizures from the seventh through the fifth centuries ...137 As discussed earlier, any aspirant to possession of the “high city,” and inevitably to Athena’s precinct there, must necessarily demonstrate a favored status, that is, Athena’s patronage, and so leave to take and hold the akropolis (however briefly the “hold”: cf. section .C.). In Peisistratos’ case, Athena’s favor was certified by his famous victories and renowned intelligence (perhaps perceived as a concomitant of those victories at this stage): they

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had been gained with the help of the goddess of war and wisdom.They justified deference to him and the goddess’s obvious will. (We recall, too, the theme of divine favor through Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise.)138 Taking the akropolis was for those to whom Athena granted special favor and honors and who were clearly recognized as her beneficiaries. It was not for such as Kylon and Isagoras, who were deemed undeserving, or the Alkmeonidai, who had desecrated the goddess’s abode and her city; it was certainly not for foreigners or traitors.139 The pompe– of Phye-as-Athena had as its ultimate goal Athena’s “own akropolis,” a goal explicitly stated by the criers who informed the Athenians and advised them as to how to receive the pair. The image of “Athena” subserved the human riding with her on this occasion, for she became, after all, a personification of the qualities that recommended Peisistratos for rule. An abstract summary of those qualities of Peisistratos, “Athena” also represented a reminder to the Athenians of what they, too, should do in view of them, that is, accept Peisistratos. The pompe– , the chariot, its charioteers, and the outrunning criers in context amounted to explicit and implicit persuasion, vividly expressed yet subtly combined. Peisistratos’ attributes and successes and the purport of their benefit were envivified by a corporeal “Athena” recommending her clear favorite: the two became, for the moment, identical, as did the prognosis for Athens’ well-being under Peisistratos.140 As she loved the tyrant, so should the Athenians—and for the reasons that she simultaneously recollected, represented, and urged. Peisistratos was neither Herakles, Diomedes, nor Odysseus; his image with Athena was his own, manufactured from parts supplied from mythical referents but nuanced to contemporary Athenian sensibilities.These, but most of all who Peisistratos had become to the Athenians, created a vocabulary of images summed up in his ride with “Athena” by Athena.The “vision,” really a coup de théâtre, had, like so many Attic vase paintings of the sixth century, both obvious and subtler sense.141 There is really no question that the Athenians believed that Phye was the goddess Athena: they did not. (The demonstrators of emotion and excess were surely Megakles’ hacks.) The Athenians could, however, accept what Phye-asAthena represented, even as they could an actor playing Athena in Sophokles’ Aias in the fifth century. It was not the ruse that the Athenians accepted but the power and will of the divinity jointly represented in Peisistratos and his record and in the representation of the goddess driving together with him in a chariot toward the “high city.”142 The prog-

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nosis for the city was good so long as both pairs of hands—the hands that held onto the chariot and its reins—were held out over Athens. Simply put, Herodotos and his source(s) didn’t get it, or more likely they maligned it in order to malign the de– mos. Who “voted” this day that Peisistratos be tyrant once again? We may eliminate first of all the aristoi, who once again were surely mere bystanders to the significant events that occurred around them when Peisistratos and Megakles combined forces.143 Of the other two groups, those whose loyalties lay specifically with Megakles or Peisistratos were surely the minority.Those who were interested in gain, who needed persuasion, the “swing vote,” which formed the “critical mass,” that is, the Solonian de– mos, were the majority for whom the pageant was intended as a persuasion.Their assent in sufficient numbers was absolutely vital to the success of the plan.This group had been first persuaded by Peisistratos, then Megakles, then Peisistratos and Megakles, and would be persuaded by Megakles again. Perhaps most in it were inclined to reinstate Peisistratos anyway, but they were certainly better primed after the pageant and, we imagine, the further jingling of Megakles’ purse.We do not know the precise numbers of these assenters, but theirs were the “votes” that counted for the reestablishment of the tyranny. In sum, the Athenians who “received Peisistratos back” were not so simpleminded as Herodotos and his Athenian source(s) imply. In fact, if anything, events at Athens beginning before Solon and in the years preceding Peisistratos’ first tyranny created conditions that would have driven up the level of the de– mos’political sophistication.The extravagance of the procession, misunderstood or, more probably, misrepresented by Herodotos, who, like his source(s), was projecting back his own fifthcentury sensibilities, might be taken as a further sign of theatrical politicking, apparently no rarity in Athens. It is certainly in keeping with Solon’s famous “mad”entry into the agora to recite Salamis and,of course, if it occurred, with Peisistratos’ equally dramatic self-wounding; it is credible on those bases (if both actually occurred) and acceptable even in isolation because it worked to effect the aims of the confederates. Stagey, but effective, the pageant reminded the Athenians how apt to be tyrant Peisistratos was: his war record and performance since had demonstrated that he was favored by Athena, and this was her city after all.Though more extravagant, the Phye pageant nevertheless fits into the pattern of Peisistratid manipulation of myth, which also, we note, portrayed him as fit to rule. Phye-as-Athena was designed to promote the realization among the

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Athenians of the tripartite implication of goddess, tyrant, and city and along with it its all-around benefits for them.

C. Peisistratos and Megakles’ Daughter: A Father’s Righteous Indignation While it is reasonable to assume that Megakles and Peisistratos did enter into an alliance based on mutual interests during the period of Peisistratos’ first exile, that the pact was then cemented by a marriage, and that it was subsequently repudiated by Peisistratos,it is not reasonable to imagine that it was broken precisely in the way Herodotos describes.144 According to Herodotos, Megakles was prompted to seek out Peisistratos because of the struggle with his old foe Lykourgos. Presumably, Peisistratos’ renewed tyranny would help him to gain the upper hand. Obviously, Peisistratos had hopes to retake the tyranny, but must accept Megakles’ proposal to be reinstated. Marriages for political gain were common enough and had been entered into by both men earlier. In any case, Megakles made marriage to his daughter a condition for his cooperation. His desire was probably to draw Peisistratos into closer cooperation with him, his genos, and their aims (see appendix C..B.). The account of the disruption of that marriage alliance in Herodotos,however,devolves entirely on Peisistratos’ second thoughts and mistreatment of Megakles’ daughter, on her delayed reaction to the abuse, and finally on Megakles’ righteous indignation and actions because of it.145 Much is omitted in Herodotos’ story, which stands rather outside of the context Herodotos himself establishes in his logos. Not unlike Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ first tyranny, that concerning the second also breaks down into two episodic strands, the Phyeas-Athena strand and the insult strand.146 The first may be taken as factual because publicly witnessed, unique and memorable. Aside from Herodotos’ dismissal of it, it seems to be free of interpretation. It could hardly have been invented.147 The second strand, the earlier stated one, however, is essentially formulaic in nature, gossipy and generic; it deals in the thoughts and personal exchanges of the individuals involved and appears to be quite removed from history.The superstructure of the “insult story” is not at all unique: the generically evil tyrant characteristically commits sexual outrage and deserves to lose his tyranny for it.148 The outrage is premised on Peisistratos’realization after the fact of the marriage things he must have known

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before it; it unfolds in such fashion as to run completely counter to the character image established in Herodotos of Peisistratos as a law-abiding ruler of Athens (..). Moreover, everyone in the insult story, including Peisistratos, seems very foolish indeed, merely reactive to events (or realizations) instead of guiding them. (This in the very cynical political atmosphere described heretofore by Herodotos!) There is obviously something very much amiss in Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ sexual insult to Megakles’ daughter.149 Again context lends a hand.The insult strand may be seen as partaking of the revisionistic program of Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise to the tyranny. It helps to overhaul the reader’s perception of Megakles. He is no longer a collaborator with the tyrants but is instead a vengeful father reacting as any Greek father would to the insult done to him and his daughter.150 The distance between the former confederates is in fact increased to the polemic of tyrant and tyrant hater inasmuch as the story redefines Peisistratos, heretofore “righteous,” as an evil tyrant inimical to the Alkmeonidai,even as it redefines Megakles.(In fact,Megakles achieves a further felicitous identification with the famous Athenian tyrannicides, Harmodios and Aristogeiton, since his case involves sexually motivated hubris and response, just as theirs did. Megakles might actually be seen as prototype of sorts for them, succeeding as he did in “loosing” the tyranny, something that the Alkmeonidai asserted [through Herodotos] the tyrannicides, did not.151 At all events, sexual outrage could well be believed of the tyrants, as we shall presently see.) The insult story in Herodotos may in fact be viewed as the “charter” of the genos’ bruited perpetual hatred of the tyrants.152 While the advantages of the insult story for Megakles and his descendants are quite obvious, its problems, including the generics, implausibilities, and contradictions, are also clear. Both together, however, suggest that there is little historical fact in this strand but mostly fabrication for purposes of revising the record of events involving Megakles and Peisistratos. If that is so, what may be taken as factual? First of all, the prompt for Alkmeonid revision of the facts had to have been, once again, embarrassment for conduct alleged of its members during the reign of the tyrants. In the case of the insult story, the fact of intermarriage with the Peisistratids, apparently quite well known for this occasion and later, created significant shame for the self-proclaimed “perpetual”misotyrannists.First, then, we may take intermarriage as factual.The younger Alkibiades in a rather more truthful moment made bold to admit proudly to intermar-

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riage with the tyrants.This admission was not based on the fabrication of such marriage and certainly would have caused real problems for the Alkmeonids in the fifth century.153 Second, we may also take it as fact that Megakles summoned Peisistratos back from exile and that restoring the tyranny was his initiative, not Peisistratos’.154 Third, we may take it as fact, too, that the alliance broke down for reasons other than those reported in Herodotos and that Megakles, holding all the political cards of importance, forced Peisistratos out again. Let us turn to the theme of sexual outrage as an explanation for that breakdown. It is well nigh impossible to believe that Peisistratos entered into the marriage alliance with Megakles knowing the terms of the deal but intending to void them for the reasons stated in Herodotos. Peisistratos’ very late realizations are nevertheless supposed to have led him to treat Megakles’daughter in a very insulting manner,although he had been righteous before (and would be considered so afterward) and well knew the consequences of his actions, as every Athenian would have.155 The greatest impediment for believing in it is the problem of a creditable source.To whom would Peisistratos have communicated his reasons for voiding the marriage contract? How did they come down from then to Herodotos? What possible source could have known Peisistratos’ thoughts and then had the presence of mind to record them? Peisistratos surely never proclaimed them.Yet, in Herodotos, the alliance’s breakdown focuses squarely on the sexual insult, what led to it, what happened, and its results, really nothing more.156 It is much more reasonable to believe that the reasons given for Peisistratos’ refusal to beget children were rationalizations much after the fact rather than operative reasons for sundering the marriage alliance at the time the arrangement existed. The Alkmeonidai, as primary sources for Herodotos for the tyranny, were in a position to revise the terms of it to obtain maximum benefits by papering over the real reasons for the breach. Megakles the malefactor—his “sins” could not be denied—could nevertheless become Megakles the avenging father, and substantiation was therefore advanced for his tyrant hating, thus dimming some of his other offenses. Abuse and insults of a sexual nature were the particular domains of Archaic Greek tyrants, their shamelessness symptomatic of their typical disregard for morality and social convention.157 The story of the insult to Megakles’ daughter not only fits into this general pattern of tyrannical misconduct but also among many charges of sexual misconduct made by the Alkmeonidai against their political enemies at Athens.158 Herodotos

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says,for example,that Isagoras,who aimed at tyranny in the wake of Kleisthenes’ forced departure from Athens, was charged with allowing his wife to be “visited” by Kleomenes, and the charge must have come once again from the enemies of Isagoras, the Alkmeonidai.159 In Plutarch, a later source to be sure but in this case probably deriving his information from Stesimbrotos of Thasos or Ion of Chios, Perikles himself imputes incest to Kimon through his sister Elpinike, whose virtue is thus set at nothing because of sexual misconduct.160 The insult to Megakles’ daughter, of whom we hear no more, seems of a piece with the kind of charges leveled against opponents of the Alkmeonids, the insult story without historical merit. If not for this, then, why did the marriage alliance between Megakles and Peisistratos break down? Before proceeding, it must be emphasized that there is little of substance to go on beyond observing the real dissonance between what was said and the likeliest reasons why it was said and the context of political realities that Herodotos himself sets here. In this case, we really only have him to go on.While what follows is more speculative than based in fact, I shall proceed, introducing the facts we do have and grounding them in the context established. I have assumed that Peisistratos’ aims during his first tyranny were to maintain himself and strengthen his position vis-à-vis Megakles.To that end, he sought a marriage alliance outside of Attika with Gorgilos of Argos.As we have seen, many scholars have assumed that Timonassa was out of the way by the time of Peisistratos’ marriage to Megakles’ daughter, either divorced, dead, or otherwise put off so as to enable the Athenian alliance.161 That is not at all proven (see appendix C..B.) and, if his aims were the same when he returned to the tyranny, Peisistratos had the same good reasons for maintaining the alliance with Gorgilos. Peisistratos’ only viable means to return to the tyranny at Athens after his first exile was Megakles, to whom he would owe a political debt.To attain the tyranny again, Peisistratos must promise to do what was asked, presumably, as before, to see the Alkmeonidai into the offices of state.That meant handing over control in effect to Megakles.To attain his own independence, however, Peisistratos must maintain his foreign ties. If I am right in assuming that Peisistratos continued his marriage to Timonassa in exile (see appendix C.B.), the union could have remained intact even beyond the marriage to Megakles’ daughter. Maintaining the Argive alliance, which would prove useful against Megakles ultimately, and the rights of the offspring from Timonassa, which cemented the alliance, were

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good grounds indeed for telling Megakles one thing and doing another. In his struggle to offset Megakles’ power, it was reasonable that Peisistratos should accept the marriage alliance to the Alkmeonid’s daughter under false premises, maintain the Argive alliance, and strive not to procreate with Megakles’ daughter, since offspring from that marriage would upset things. Maintenance of the foreign alliance was to no avail, for Peisistratos was no more able to defend himself against Megakles when the latter reacted to the “insult” to his daughter than he was the first time around.The insult in any case materialized when Megakles’ daughter bore no children: this seems to be the implication of the mother’s inquiry, for what it is worth. Or it may be that the truth of things simply dawned on Megakles. Run out of Athens the second time, Peisistratos evacuated Attika altogether. Megakles was, until Palle– ne– , indispensable for Peisistratos, making and breaking him as tyrant apparently at will. Megakles’ power was overwhelming in comparison with Peisistratos’, and the latter finally compensated by building up his own resources to overwhelming strength, taking ten years in exile to do it. Indeed,whatever political losses Megakles had incurred up to this time, he still had sufficient force to expel Peisistratos from Attika. Presumably, he used his money to undo with the de– mos all that he had done and sanctioned. Peisistratos’ flight from Attika gauges Megakles’ power, which, until Palle– ne– , thoroughly outstripped Peisistratos’. It was obviously because of that superior wealth, wealth Peisistratos could not match through two periods of tyranny, that the tyrant in exile set about gathering the men and chre– mata he needed to overcome Megakles and the Alkmeonids once and for all.162 The story of the insult to Megakles’ daughter amplifies the polemics of tyrant and subject on Megakles’ behalf. Our sympathies are meant to be with Megakles the injured, aggrieved, and ultimately vengeful party, and our understanding that he became the first vehement tyrant hater among the Athenians and the first among a famous line of tyrant haters. His active participation in renewing the tyranny, indeed, his engineering of its refoundation, is dimmed by the pulpish tale involving his daughter. Peisistratos’sexual mistreatment of his wife—we shall perhaps never know precisely what he did or did not do—creates moral outrage in Megakles and in the reader on Megakles’ behalf. It explains both his immediate role in dissolving the tyranny and his genos’ purported “perpetual” antityrannical temperament. Megakles the cynical politician, the creator of the sec-

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ond tyranny, drops from sight altogether after arranging the pact only to reappear as Megakles the honorable, an enemy of the tyrant and his ilk now dyed in the wool.163 Poor, injured Megakles! In fact, in Herodotos Megakles seems to “loose” the second tyranny all by himself.The insult story, essentially an apology, is yet another part of the Alkmeonids’“myth of resistance” to Peisistratid tyranny, very possibly developed, at least in part, as an answer to the popular “tyrannicide” version of opposition to the tyrants.164

D. Summary . Herodotos and Megakles Megakles’ political power is obvious in the account of events leading to and involving Peisistratos’ second tyranny, but it becomes occult as things unfold. It was Megakles who devised the marriage alliance with Peisistratos and then, perhaps with him, the Phye ruse, thus successfully manipulating the de– mos to his purpose.When Peisistratos rode to the akropolis accompanied by Phye-as-Athena, a sufficient number of Athenians, receiving them en route, conceded the tyranny once more, just as Megakles had calculated. While Peisistratos could not resume the tyranny on his own or without Megakles’ assistance, he could also not do so without this display of public and popular approval. Megakles and the de– mos cooperated, as they must have done in the first instance, to acclaim Peisistratos. In this case, the Alkmeonid was the indispensable architect and engineer of Peisistratos’ reinstatement. In Herodotos, Megakles’ promise to Peisistratos appears to be guaranteed: the reactions of those who most mattered politically in Athens,the de– mos,would match his own.Yet,while the de– mos is featured along with Peisistratos in the Phye affair in Herodotos’ account, Megakles is not.As before, he is noticeably absent as the events actually unfold. The Phye-as-Athena story offers further information about Peisistratos’ acquisition of power but really more about Herodotos’ source(s) and Athenian attitudes toward the Peisistratid tyranny in the fifth century ... Although the de– mos is partially forgiven for being taken in yet again, it is explicitly more to blame for the tyranny’s establishment in Herodotos’ account than is its leader—even though that leader had instigated it! In fact, at the point of Peisistratos’ resumption of power, that is, the Athenians’ concession a second time, Megakles is not even in the

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picture. He reappears only later, in his recast and highlighted role as opponent to Peisistratos’ tyranny, to dissolve it. In this, Megakles is allowed to parade his “truer,” tyrant-hating colors. As in the deception strand in the account of the first tyranny, the de– mos’ leader is distinguished both from Peisistratos’ tyranny and from the foolishness of the Athenian de– mos. On the basis of Megakles’ prior and subsequent activities and importance and the political entrenchment it implies, it is beyond possibility to think that Megakles was, as he seems to have been in Herodotos’ account, away from the action before, during, or after the Phye-as-Athena pageant. He concocted it after all; it was upon this that the political fortunes of both Megakles and Peisistratos were to depend. Megakles’ certain means of influence of the de– mos was his chre– mata; he had it, the de– mos wanted it, and Peisistratos really had nothing yet with which to compete.Thus, if Peisistratos lacked the means to bid for the tyranny on his own in the second instance, if he had to rely on the established city politician Megakles as his “go-between,” then he cannot possibly have been in a stronger position before his first bid or had any option other than reliance on the wealthy, politically cynical Megakles. As Megakles was indispensable to Peisistratos’ second tyranny, as leader of the de– mos then Megakles must have been present as events unfolded and must have figured centrally in the events that led to Peisistratos’ first tyranny. Megakles had been “kingmaker” now twice over; Herodotos does not tell us this outright. Indeed, in Herodotos’ account, the de– mos on its own is finally responsible for the first two tyrannies. That is, however, the product of the revisionism with which Herodotos’ sources supplied him and by which his account of Peisistratos’ rise is suffused. As we have seen, the response to the reality of his unsavory collusion by Megakles’ progeny, the presumptive sources here for Herodotos inasmuch Megakles is the prime beneficiary of the revisions, was to refashion his role in the events, in part by making him, in the case of the events leading to the first tyranny, the leader of an entirely distinct, actually nonexistent “party of the shore.”That refashioning simultaneously maintained his importance as a politician, while it detached him from Peisistratos, the de– mos, and the first tyranny and in extenso allowed him to be thought of more as a consistent opponent of tyranny and less as a collaborator. Although he engineered the second tyranny—it was on his initiative that things got under way in the first place—he is also detached from the “silliness” finally affecting the de– mos. In fact, Megakles only explicitly collaborates with Peisistratos once in Herodotos, that is, to arrange

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the marriage alliance and the Phye pageant that preceded it, but here the blame could easily be laid against his “other” opponent, Lykourgos.What else could Megakles do? His portrayal as tyrant opponent does conform, as it surely was meant to, to Alkmeonid antityrant claims in Herodotos and elsewhere.That is in fact his featured role in Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise. . Peisistratos’ Second Tyranny Although the second period of tyranny was longer than the first it seems, we are yet on the same uncertain ground in venturing to expound on its character.While it might be inferred that the first two tyrannies were similar to the last, conditions were very different and the periods much too short to admit the parallel confidently.The scale of Peisistratos’ actual rule had to have been much smaller in the first two brief and uncertain periods, characterized, above all, by a real lack of material resources on the part of the tyrant. Moreover, if, as I have suggested, Megakles and the Alkmeonidai controlled the offices as the political price Peisistratos paid to be tyrant, then Peisistratos was little more than a figurehead through the first two tyrannies.That he remained away from Athens for a decade to acquire means sufficient to overwhelm Megakles and establish his rule on a more durable footing (even as Herodotos implies) acts further to gauge his weakness and reliance on Megakles during the first two tyrannies. Herodotos’ pronouncement about the character of Peisistratos’ tyrannies (..) is obviously of more use in determining what the tyranny was not than what it was. Under the shadow of Megakles, Peisistratos was much less the imposing figure he became after Palle– ne– when he had cleared the political field for himself. In fact, his stature was diminished even from that which he had achieved through his victory at Nisaia. During the first two tyrannies, Peisistratos had not yet solved the political dilemma confronting leaders of the de– mos from Solon’s time.The de– mos’ consent was vital; its favor could only be temporarily guaranteed by a combination of wealth and popularity.The problem was to maintain both, that is, ongoing popularity and distribution of wealth, and was finally solved by Peisistratos after Palle– ne– . Upon his return, he established Athenian politics once and for all upon an expanding material basis heretofore unseen and to be outdone only by successors. Chre– mata was key, as it always had been; further popularity could be gained by it, but power could only be maintained by regular deployment of it.The tyranny

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at Athens was in fact sustained by the distribution of wealth accumulated in his exile but also by promises of more.Peisistratos had grasped that constant supplies of chre– mata, his own to distribute, were needed to maintain his power at Athens: the accumulation he managed in exile could only be a start,“seed money,” as it were.While Peisistratos learned this lesson too late for his first tyrannies, it became the foundation for the last and longest of them.

IV

The Tide of Wealth and Power ` PEISISTRATOS’ EXILE, RETURN, AND “ROOTING” OF THE TYRANNY

.        A. Introduction:The Strategy for Return When Peisistratos learned of what was being done against him, he quit the land altogether, and coming to Eretria, took counsel with his children. Since Hippias’ opinion to take back the tyranny held the field, they thereupon began to collect contributions from cities which owed something to them.1 —Herodotos .. Herodotos’ very compressed sequencing of events in this passage is misleading. He makes it seem as if Peisistratos’ immediate recourse in the face of his ouster from the tyranny was to Eretria and that he did not move on from there but remained and took contributions from allies. Not only do we not hear of any stops before Eretria, we get no idea how the Etretrians figured in Peisistratos’ subsequent plans. Instead we learn that a “family council” took place at Eretria to determine what course Peisistratos should take. In Herodotos’ account, Hippias stands out as an advocate for return, a depiction that is an anachronism almost surely based on Hippias’ conspicuous determination to reestablish his own tyranny in  ...2 Herodotos says nothing about Peisistratos’ movement to Thrace, although he later alludes to it by mentioning that part of the money Pei

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sistratos brought with him to Palle– ne– came from the Strymon region.3 Here, as in many other places in the logos on Peisistratos’ rise, Herodotos knew more than he actually reported. The author of the Ath.Pol. (AP) supplements Herodotos’ sketchy account to some degree with plausible information. He does not say that Peisistratos went to Eretria first, as Herodotos does. Rather (.),after Peisistratos left Athens,“he first settled a place near the Thermaic Gulf which is called Rhaike– los, and from there came to the regions around Mount Pangaion,whence having become enriched and paying soldiers,he returned to Eretria in the eleventh year and undertook then for the first time to revive his rule by force.”4 This information, which is also compressed, nevertheless tells us about the specific whereabouts and some of the actions of Peisistratos during the intervening years of his lengthy third exile. It may have derived from an Atthidographer, but in any case, except for some details, there is no reason to doubt its veracity.5 Although Herodotos’ story about Hippias’ advice may be dismissed as a fiction, Peisistratos’ movement first to Eretria from Attika and his resolution there to return to Athens make a good deal of sense.6 Eretria was a fair haven for Peisistratos, becoming the staging point for his invasion of Attika in  ..., and it is more reasonable to assume that he stopped off there before proceeding to the Thermaic Gulf, as we shall presently see. Peisistratos’ determination to become and then remain tyrant at Athens is evident in his earlier attempts to establish his position. His subsequent course of action,beginning with his moves to Rhaike– los and then the Strymon, his sojourn lasting most of a decade, can actually be seen as amounting to a coherent plan of action, a strategy in fact. Peisistratos was intent on amassing resources, especially wealth, to bring to bear against his Athenian foes and so to “root” his tyranny.7 The enterprises in the north were conceived to help Peisistratos acquire what he needed for the return to Athens; they were not ends in themselves, again as we shall see. It is most likely that Peisistratos’ Eretrian friends pointed him in the direction of the Thermaic Gulf in the first place and that he did not go there, as AP implies, simply on his own. Eretrian interests had been long established in the region; in fact, the Eretrians, along with the Chalkidians, appear to have monopolized Greek settlement there.8 To have proceeded north without the consent and cooperation of the Eretrians would have been ill-conceived indeed, for Peisistratos may have added these as enemies to barbarian enemies already there and in any case eliminated much needed assistance from those most experienced in the Ther-

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maic Gulf region. Such bad relations are most unlikely, especially in view of Peisistratos’ very close ties to the Eretrians later. Eretrian colonies in Thrace and Macedonia, some of which are to be dated to the mid–eighth century ...,ringed the gulf,and their longevity suggests that prosperity was surely to be found there. Rhaike– los was a logical addition to the Eretrian settlement constellation, mutually strengthening and being strengthened by the colonies (apoikiai) and their inhabitants. The success of the Eretrian colonies and the Eretrians’ desire to exploit the region further may well have figured in Rhaike– los’ founding.9 For their part, the Eretrians were undoubtedly hospitable but certainly canny.They knew that Peisistratos was an experienced and successful field commander and that he had been a ruler at Athens. He would function well for them in the north in the shorter run (and, perhaps even in the longer run, as restored tyrant of Athens). Now without a base, Peisistratos was surely amenable to becoming leader of a settlement in Thrace on behalf of the Eretrians, for he must acquire wealth to restore his position at Athens.10 The result was a symbiosis of mutual profitability. Peisistratos’ prime incentive for heading up such a settlement must have been immediate profit, for he did not intend to carve out a new principality for himself in the north. As Solon indicates in his poetry, chre– mata was key to exercising lasting control over the de– mos of Athens and the de– mos to acquiring and maintaining governance there.The return of the Alkmeonidai to Athens after the Kylonian crime and Megakles’ subsequent emergence as prostate– s tou de– mou underscore what Solon implies in his poetry: wealth was essential for success in Athenian politics.11 In fact, as we have also seen, the Alkmeonidai provided Peisistratos with a paradigm and a strategy: acquiring wealth in exile would lead to return. His plan to build up resources, beginning with his sojourn to Thrace, where chre– mata was available, was deliberate. His participation in the settlement of Rhaike– los suggests that his determination to be reinstated at Athens was fixed certainly by the time that he agreed to go there. There are other grounds for believing that Peisistratos employed a strategy of return soon after he abandoned Attika.These are to be found in the nature of the places settled and in Peisistratos’ only temporary involvement with them. Rhaike– los offered certain possibilities, but the potentials for enrichment of the Strymon region were greater, owing to the proximity of the gold and silver mines around Mount Pangaion. Rhaike– los was a way station for Peisistratos, who abandoned the settle-

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ment altogether when he and those around him moved on to the Strymon. There was no attempt to retain the place as a Peisistratid possession and certainly none later to resettle it. Similarly, the settlement on the Strymon was evacuated at the end of Peisistratos’ exile and never revived by the tyrants.12 The Thracian sites established by Peisistratos and his party were temporary and purposed for limited aims.They were not colonies to be held as independent possessions over time.These settlements, strongholds or forts (i.e., teivch), were really just defensible depots for storing securely the wealth Peisistratos required to regain the tyranny.13 Peisistratos’ activities in the north enriched him to be sure, but they did not make him fabulously wealthy.The Thracian settlements were disposable: gains made and their purposes met, the Peisistratids left them behind to pursue the ultimate prize of Athens.14

B. Rhaike–los . Location of the Peisistratid Settlement The site of Rhaike– los has never been conclusively identified. On the problematic evidence available, however, it may well have been at or quite near ancient Aineia (near or at Nea Mihaniona), very possibly on or near the promontory of Megalo Karabournou, about twenty-five kilometers southwest of Thessalonike– on the eastern side of the Thermaic Gulf (see appendix F and fig.).15 The settlement,similar to other Eretrian ones in the area, was meant to tap into local trade through or across the gulf and in and out of the Chalkidike– . Rhaike– los tightened the Eretrian grip in the region and will have been a very serviceable addition to Eretria’s colonial network. Methone– , on the coast of Macedonia at the western entrance to the gulf, had been colonized by the Eretrians ca. the mid–seventh century ...16 Thereafter (or possibly even before), the Eretrians settled Dikaia near to what became Thessalonike– , then Mende– on Cape Poseidonion on the Palle– ne– Peninsula.17 Eretrians, either from the city itself or the Thermaic Gulf colonies, would have joined Peisistratos and his company in settling Rhaike– los: they had long been present in the area and were knowledgeable of the best ways to found, maintain, and see the new settlement through.18 Since the site was obviously advantageous for them, some of the original Eretrian settlers of Rhaike– los or others who came to it later probably remained there when Peisistratos and his party pushed on to the Strymon. Rhaike– los as such ceased to exist in any real sense, it seems, giv-

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ing way to Aineia, a wholly Eretrian foundation and proper polis founded at or proximate to the former site of Rhaike– los (cf. appendix F).19 . The Settlement’s Nature and Functions While there is no explicit evidence about Rhaike– los or how it functioned, some limited conclusions may be drawn about it based on its context. First, it was located near the sea and so must have been oriented toward sea traffic through the gulf, north and south but also east and west. Megalo Karabournou juts out to the west and Macedonia over on the eastern side of the narrowed entrance of the Thermaic Gulf; it stands roughly opposite Methone– . Methone– , like Mende– , was situated to transmit and receive goods and materials but also to intervene in the sea trade of the gulf.20 Rhaike– los established an Eretrian presence on both sides of this “entrance” to the gulf. Of course, this positioning suggests that part of what the Rhaike– lans were about was “toll taking” from passing ships, that is to say, extortion or, in essence, piracy. If such were the case, then Rhaike– los had to have provided a site where ships could lie up and be launched quickly, as well as fortified, for surely it was both a redoubt and a depository for the proceeds from such trade.21 (We should also rule in shipborne raiding against “unfriendlies,” along the lines of that practiced during the Megarian war:cf.chapter II..C.) Such activities naturally entailed hostage taking and slave trading, as well as simple robbery or extortion. All of these are age-old activities of ancient Greek mariners. The inhabitants of Rhaike– los were of course not prevented from participating in more legitimate trade as well.As the terminus of a road from the Chalkidike– , Rhaike– los was a logical place to ship and receive goods going to and coming from Methone– .Westbound traffic descended from the main land route from the Bosporos, that is, from what later become the Roman Via Egnatia, as well as other land routes from the north. Traffic moving up from Palle– ne– could also make use of Rhaike– los as a place from which to ship across the Thermaic gulf, avoiding thereby the long route around it. From Rhaike– los, they could also ship farther afield and of course receive wares and goods in return coming up from Greece and elsewhere. Perhaps “fares” were also levied from land traffic moving north and south near Rhaike– los, as they were from those using the “ferry” to Methone– and back. (Such settlements, astride land and sea routes, are in fact a hallmark of later Peisistratid colonialism.)22 One of the commodities exchanged at Rhaike– los must have been precious metal mined in the Chalkidike– .23

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Rhaike– los may have been a necessary first stop for Peisistratos on the way to the Strymon. He and his party could acclimatize there, gaining experience with Thracians before moving on to the richer but much more difficult country around Mount Pangaion.The Thracians near the Strymon were renowned even among Thracians, a warrior people themselves, for their warlike propensities.24 Rhaike– los may also have been part of a quid pro quo based on Peisistratos’ desire to move on to the richer Strymon country.The exiled Athenians would need support for the Strymon enterprise, and the Eretrians were the ones to supply it. Perhaps the cost of that assistance was the success of Rhaike– los:once that settlement,which seems to have laid the groundwork for Aineia, was up, running, and making a go, the Peisistratids were presumably free to move on to Mount Pangaion with the Eretrian assistance they needed. The Eretrians undoubtedly took their own sizable share of profits from Rhaike– los,but their cooperation also seems implicit in Peisistratos’ Strymon settlement. Indeed, any effort to maintain a Greek settlement in Thrace, especially in the hostile region of Mount Pangaion, was ultimately dependent on support.As it happens, the Peisistratids maintained only a very tenuous hold there, surrounded on all sides by Thracians and with their backs literally to the sea (cf. section .C.–).

.  ’        :     – , ,  –   On the slender evidence we possess, Peisistratos was the leader of the enterprise at Rhaike– los, if he was not actually the oikiste–s (settler) for the settlement. His war record and military skill ensured that he would be a capable defender, while his acquired political experience figured into his role as civic leader. Surely, though, his military abilities were his primary recommendation, since Rhaike– los’ success would have depended on defense in strength.25 There was surely plenty of fighting, either with the Thracians of the Chalkidike– or other Greeks, for the rights to exploit the region. Peisistratos seems to have brought things off well enough, since his reputation persisted in the region to the end of the reign of Hippias some forty years later.Then both Amyntas, the king of Macedonia, and the Thessalians offered the exiled Hippias cities in Macedonia and Thessaly to govern.26 It has been suggested that Peisistratos came to Rhaike– los as a professional soldier; the suggestion has been linked to archaeological data from Sindos on the north coast of the Thermaic Gulf near the Axios River.27



, ,  

Roughly contemporary grave goods from Sindos, rich in gold, seem to indicate that the Thracians there possessed abundant wealth. When the Paionians, another Thracian tribe, began to expand and encroach on these rich Sindians, Peisistratos appeared on the scene to act as a military adviser, a mercenary commander in fact. Rhaike– los was his base of operations, and Peisistratos was paid for his services in Sindian gold. In essence, Peisistratos was a hired soldier, a condottiere, lured to the north by an opportunity to ply his warcraft and profit from it. While ingenious, this linkage is also fanciful and actually possesses manifest weaknesses. First of all, there is no hint of mercenarism in our sources relating to Peisistratos. In spite of his success in the Megarian war and the renown it may have generated in Greece, Peisistratos never garnered a reputation for mercenarism nor was he conspicuous as a professional soldier.The Thracians, on the other hand, were renowned fighters in their own right and would hardly have required the services of, to them, a relatively obscure Greek with no experience in Thracian warfare. On the evidence, Peisistratos’ own interests at Rhaike– los, coupled with those of his sponsors, the Eretrians, were the primary reasons for his coming to Thrace.These will have kept his attention primarily focused on the environs of Megalo Karabournou and away from the Axios. Finally, the Paionians are said by Strabo to have held most of Macedonia, including Mygdonia, “from of old,” that is, before they were deported by Megabazos, a fact that does not suggest that the Thracians of Sindos were absorbed by the Paionians as late as the middle of the sixth century ...28 Indeed, the gold found at Sindos could actually have been Paionian gold, since the Paionians held the mines.There is in fact no ostensible reason to think that the “Sindians” were other than Paionians. The wealth of the Thermaic Gulf Thracians figured prominently in the settlement of Rhaike– los and Peisistratos’ movement there was implicated with success at the expense of the native Thracians. Rather than journeying there specifically to fight, however, we should understand that fighting came with the territory and that Peisistratos journeyed north knowing that he would have to fight to gain what he needed to return to Athens. He had acquired military skill over the course of his lifetime and continued to do so in Thrace.29 Violence and warfare were endemic to Thrace, particularly the areas around Mount Pangaion, during the Archaic and Classical periods.There would have been no lack of combat in those regions. Piracy and any other kind of extortion would entail fighting with any and all but “friends.”If war-

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fare was constant in Thrace, it was much more intense around the Strymon where the stakes were higher and the Thracians very fierce (cf. section .C.).30 By far the majority of those who came with Peisistratos would have been warriors prepared to fight on arrival or to become warriors fighting there (see section .B.). Peisistratos was commander of these, both in and out of war, if he was not that of the Eretrians who had come along. While we know of no title, official or otherwise, that he may have borne at Rhaike– los, it is not impossible that Peisistratos was in fact its “tyrant.”

.  ’     –   Precisely who went out to Rhaike– los with Peisistratos is undocumented, but it was no army of retainers. In addition to Eretrians, Peisistratos was undoubtedly accompanied by an Attic contingent, which included, among others, his eldest sons (at least) and closest philoi.31 These latter were the hard core of supporters of Peisistratos after all, few in number but staunch and apparently loyal; some of them are likely to have been those who emerged in the tyranny later as important colonial cooperatives. Among them were the Philaids, some of whom are to be found closely associated with Peisistratos and his sons in ventures in the Thracian Chersone– se not long after Peisistratos’ final restoration as tyrant.32 These Philaids, who developed strong ties to Thracians later, may well have gained their initial familiarity with them in company with Peisistratos.33 Why the Peisistratids dispatched Philaids to the Chersone– se, a vital region for the tyrants after it was taken again by Peisistratos, would be better explained if some of them had served at Rhaike– los and then on the Strymon and had thus gained experience of Thrace and the Thracians.34 They certainly seemed to know them quite well later. The Philaids became leaders in the Chersone– se, according to Herodotos (.–), because the natives there were looking for a war leader. Miltiades (III), the oikiste– s of the Chersone– se, was of an age to acquire his expertise in Thracian warfare while serving with Peisistratos in Thrace, and one would imagine that only a commander familiar with Thracian tactics would do for the Chersone– se. Their later professed antipathies to the Peisistratids notwithstanding, the Philaids were apparently trusted associates of the Athenian tyrants in the Chersone– se, becoming tyrants in their own right there.They may well have learned a thing or two militarily about the Thracians at Rhaike– los and around the Strymon before their dispatch to the Chersone– se.35



, ,  

While the size of the party at Rhaike– los must have been relatively small, the group that came to the Strymon later was probably shrunken even from that.A nearly contemporary case may be used to gauge roughly the size of Peisistratos’ company. (Here, of course, we enter the realm of analogy and speculation.) Miltiades (IV) had five triremes when he fled the Chersone– se in  ... These ships contained the total number of those able to be evacuated hastily from and around polis Agoraios (Bolayir) via Kardia and included most of his five hundred armed epikouroi (professional fighters or allies), his family, and closest retainers. His five ships could not reasonably have contained more than fifteen hundred souls (including women and children).36 The colonies on the Chersone– se over which Miltiades and his forebears held sway were larger, permanent, and supported by Athens: there will have been sizable numbers of Athenians there. Rhaike– los and the Strymon settlement were small, temporary, “rogue” foundations: the numbers there must have been commensurately fewer.Indeed,in spite of the number of Athenian settlements in the Chersone– se, the lengthiness of the Athenian occupation there, and the size of Miltiades’ operation—the tyrant controlled the entire peninsula—his “hard core” was apparently composed of only five hundred fighters, his genos, and his philoi, perhaps under a thousand all told. Peisistratos’ Athenian band at Rhaike– los and on the Strymon had to have been much smaller, perhaps amounting to at most only a few hundred: they were fugitives after all, neither sanctioned nor supported by the Athenians at home.The settlements in Thrace were quite different from those in the Chersone– se insofar as they were limited special ventures; the Strymon venture, a private enterprise really, survived because of those there, in particular Peisistratos, without support from Athens.37 Both Peisistratid settlements are better described as teivch rather than ajpoikivai, unlike the Chersone– san ones, which seem to have been full-blown colonies. Other than the Peisistratid genos itself, whose numbers must have been quite circumscribed, the entire party, including the philoi, cannot have numbered more than a fraction of Miltiades’ five hundred armed epikouroi.38 It is possible, though, that the Greek settlements, both at Rhaike– los and on the Strymon, attracted some native Thracians, who, like Tokes of Eion, came over to the Greeks, increased the numbers of those on site, and actually fought for them.39 These may or may not have been assimilated into the Peisistratid party. Whatever its size, in view of adverse conditions in Thrace, the existence of, in particular, the Strymon settlement over time and the fact that Pei-

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sistratos actually got hold of at least some of the wealth of that hostile region attest to the remarkable nature of the group and its leader above all. The Rhaike– los and Strymon settlers must have had, among other qualities, determination, toughness, and courage.Yet, perhaps above all else, like their leader they possessed surpassing greed and ambition. (Here, in order to index the achievement of Peisistratos, it is opportune to recall the rapid failure of Aristagoras of Miletos at Myrkinos and the massacre later of the entire Athenian myriad at Drabeskos: cf. section .C.).And yet for all his exertion—and we must imagine that Peisistratos and no other was the real driving force behind the enterprise—the erstwhile tyrant did not come away from Rhaike– los or the Strymon a notably wealthy man on the order of, say, Alkmeon, the father of Megakles, even after some years spent there.40 Wealth obtained in these regions was hard gotten.The lengths to which Peisistratos and his party went—remaining in that hostile region for a very long time—to return to Athens attest to his iron will and dogged determination to reestablish himself in power there.

.  We do not know precisely how long Peisistratos remained in either place in the north, although ancient authors make his final exile nearly a decade long. My impression—and it is only that—is that he spent most of his time in Thrace and, of that, the majority on the Strymon.41 That Peisistratos’ stay at Rhaike– los was shorter than on the Strymon makes some sense.42 Wringing profits from the Pangaion region, though ultimately richer, would presumably be more difficult because of the hostility of the Thracian tribes there, in particular the ones that controlled the mines around the mountain.43 It may be, too, that Peisistratos spent a considerable amount of time near the end of the exile in Eretria marshaling the forces needed for the return to Athens but before that doing the “favors” for allies that resulted in their indebtedness and subsequent appearance at Palle– ne– (see section .A.). Peisistratos was encouraged to remain longer on the Strymon, for all its hazards, for the profits were likely to be more his own there.Of course,it is possible,too,that once Rhaike– los was established accounts were squared and Peisistratos “owed” the Eretrians nothing. Rhaike– los and the Strymon settlement seem to have become the prototypes for others that Peisistratos, his genos, and the Philaids settled later. Sigeion and the colonies of the Thracian Chersone– se share some characteristics of these earlier settlements in design and function: the bottom



, ,  

line after all was profit. In fact, it seems quite on the cards that the roots of later Athenian imperialism are to be traced directly to Peisistratos’ northern ventures, beginning with Rhaike– los on the Thermaic Gulf.

C. The Strymon Enterprise . Introduction: Lures and Deterrents of the “Regions around Pangaion” Peisistratos was attracted to Rhaike– los and to the Strymon by the potential for wealth to be gotten there. At Rhaike– los, a good agricultural base was enhanced by profits from trade, especially in gold and silver, and apparently various strong-arm tactics. Since the Greek settlers in the region could not control the mines that produced the metals themselves—these were kept and worked by Thracians, who understood their value and fought hard to keep them (cf. section .C.)—the likeliest roles they played were as intermediaries in the exchange of gold and silver for imported objects and other commodities such as pottery, wine, and olive oil.44 Trade in the area of the Thermaic Gulf produced good profits, as the number of Eretrian colonies in the region attests. Rhaike– los was essentially an Eretrian foundation, however, whose siting tightened the Eretrian hold on the region.Aineia, a purely Eretrian foundation, succeeded it, attesting to the potential of the original foundation. The possibilities for acquiring wealth in the lower Strymon River region were greater than those around Rhaike– los, for the riches to be had there were based on larger tracts of land and more lucrative trade, inasmuch as the settlement, wherever it was located, was much closer to the mines. Megabazos’ foreboding words to Dareios about the Milesian Histiaios’ acquisition of Myrkinos toward the end of the sixth century ..., a site not far distant from Amphipolis and the mouth of the Strymon, depict the resources of the region: “O King, what thing have you done to allow a Greek man who is both dangerous (deinos) and clever (sophos) to found a colony in Thrace, where there are abundant timbers for ships and oars, silver mines, and many Greeks and barbarians dwelling about, who will accept him as leader and do what he says night and day?”45 Of course, Herodotos has Megabazos exaggerate to frighten Dareios, and some of what he emphasizes surely has reference in the fifth century rather than the sixth.46 Strabo, however, (, Frs. –) expands on what Herodotos says, stating that, beyond the mines, the Strymon area

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also offered dockyards and the “best land” in Thrace.47 The Greeks of the sixth century, particularly those living in the north, knew well the potential of the Pangaion region and were probably familiar with exaggerating tales, which had it that a plow could turn up gold on Paionian land, that is,around the Strymon.48 Reports of the Strymon’s riches may have come to Peisistratos at Rhaike– los or he may have learned about them well before, perhaps at Eretria or even at Athens. How much more difficult it was to obtain that wealth he may have only discovered when he arrived. The isolation of the Strymon region, it harsh climate, and the relentless and intense hostility of the natives discouraged settlers and impeded wholesale exploitation of the region by Greeks early on.The history of the Strymon during the Archaic and earlier Classical periods is one of unremitting violence between Greeks and Thracians.49 From the time of Archilochos, the Thracians around Mount Pangaion were known as fierce fighters, the most formidable of which, according to Herodotos, controlled the mineral wealth of the mountain and the land between it and the river.Their reputation was learned at first hand by the Greeks.50 It was surely the prospect of such catastrophes as overtook Aristagoras in the early fifth century ... and then, more fearfully, the Athenians at Drabeskos in  ..., that discouraged systematic development of the area until Hagnon arrived there in force to found Amphipolis for Athens in  ...51 Apart from the hostility of the Thracians, Greek settlers in the Strymon country faced other deterrents.The climate of the region, which is bitter cold in the winter, did nothing to enhance the attractions of this rough,remote,and hostile land.52 . Location of the Peisistratid Settlement We do not know precisely where the Peisistratid settlement was located other than in the general area of the Strymon. Archaeology will have to confirm its location.53 From the record of Thracian resistance to Greek encroachments, however, Peisistratos and his company cannot have proceeded any great distance inland from the coast.According to Thucydides (..),the site of Ennea Hodoi which became Amphipolis was twentyfive stades (ca.  km) from Eion at the mouth of the Strymon (figs. –).54 It is apparently where Aristagoras of Miletos based himself in the early fifth century before advancing to Myrkinos, and it may well have been included in Histiaios’ request to Dareios for Myrkinos ca.  ...55 If the Peisistratids were settled elsewhere than at Ennea Hodoi, they were not much farther inland from Eion, the best anchorage in the area. All



, ,  

Greek colonies in the region kept close to the sea, since naval communication and support were crucial in Thracian enterprises.The coast was far more congenial to the Greeks than the Thracian hinterland anyway and could be used, if all else failed, for evacuation.56 The tyrant’s party had presumably come through Eion and relied on it for trade and as an escape base. (Indeed, it was through Eion that they would have to go once they abandoned their settlement in the Strymon country.) Eion must have figured prominently in Peisistratos’ plan to exploit the region.57 In fact, it is possible that, for a time, Peisistratids settled at Eion, a place that had to be secured before any inland site at Ennea Hodoi/Amphipolis could be.58 Eion was an emporion (market) in its own right and served as a base of operations in the region for the Athenians later.59 That Eion should have been in Parian hands after ca.  ... makes a good deal of sense. On the evidence available, the Peisistratidai pulled out altogether from the Thrace and the opportunist Parians or Thasians, old hands in the area and inveterately interested in the mineral wealth of Mount Pangaion, may well have taken over the abandoned site to get at some of the resources that had attracted Peisistratos.60 Eion remained important in the area in the late sixth and early fifth centuries, becoming the seat of the Persian governor of the district and the object of a siege by the Delian League under Kimon: its importance was obviously greater than any other site in the Strymon country up to that time.61 Although no site for the Peisistratid settlement in the Strymon has yet been securely identified, wherever it was it was surely linked in some way to the sea and so to Eion.While the best site for purposes of the kind of exploitation we imagine the Peisistratids envisioned was Ennea Hodoi/Amphipolis, the most strategic, defensible, and potentially lucrative site along the Strymon, it could have been denied them by the Thracians, at least in the beginning.62 Because it was so advantageous, the site was likely occupied by natives when the Peisistratids arrived and the Athenians were confined nearer the coast. As the Athenians did later (Thuc. ..), having secured Eion, Peisistratos may have moved upcountry to the superior site of Amphipolis.This would surely have entailed fighting with the Edonoi, its likeliest occupiers. In view of Thracian presence and hostility in the area and the record of expeditions attempting to press on into the interior, it is difficult to imagine that the Peisistratid site was any farther upriver than Ennea Hodoi/Amphipolis. Greater distance from the sea and Eion would have increased the peril to the enterprise, and Amphipolis was the best site around.63

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Peisistratos was the first Athenian we know of to attempt to exploit the area, which became so important to the Athenians later. Once founded by Hagnon, Ennea Hodoi/Amphipolis quickly developed into a city of the greatest importance in the region, highly prized by the Athenians because it was the key to the resources of the immediate area and to traders passing by the land route as well as those coming downriver by way of Lakes Kerkinitis and Prasias. Amphipolis’ situation and later history give some sense of the potential that drew Peisistratos, Histiaios and Aristagoras of Miletos, and Hagnon and those who came with him.The site rises above the fluvial plain of the Strymon and is itself both well watered and capacious (fig. ). It is, moreover, eminently defensible, in a commanding position with respect to the Strymon and, perhaps as importantly, the land route crossing the river. Amphipolis dominates the lowest crossing of the Strymon and sits astride the heavily trafficked east-west highway (that which today has been built atop the Via Egnatia).Amphipolis was an indispensable resource for the Athenians, funneling vital commodities such as ships’ timbers and precious metals to the Peiraios during the earlier Peloponnesian war.The reaction of the Athenians to Amphipolis’ loss during the war and their efforts to reacquire it thereafter index its great value. According to Thucydides (..), when Brasidas took Amphipolis, the Athenians were overcome with great fear,“especially because the city was serviceable to them for the dispatch of ships’ timbers and revenues of money.”64 The northern policy of the Athenians through the late fifth and fourth centuries ... down to the time of Philip II of Macedonia was focused almost solely on reacquiring Amphipolis and its substantial resources. Large tracts of good land for growing grain wheat beside the Strymon, ships’ timbers for export to Athens and elsewhere, and, above all, revenues of money nearly at the source—these are what drew Peisistratos to the region, even as they attracted other exploiters later. Wealth, especially mineral wealth, must have been the prime incentive for Peisistratos, especially since that is exactly what he needed to effect his return to Athens. It is very possible that the proceeds Peisistratos took from the region identified it as a seat of great wealth and power and stimulated the Athenians’ interest in and then covetousness of it.

3. Peisistratos and the Mines of Pangaion It has been communis opinio that Peisistratos’ aim was to obtain direct control over the gold and silver mines of Mount Pangaion, well to the



, ,  

east of the river, and that in fact he was successful in that aim.65 The mines were prizes worth fighting for to be sure: they seem to have caused Dareios to dispatch Megabazos with an expedition to Thrace to acquire them.66 There can be no doubt that the mines figured in Peisistratos’ thinking and movement to the Strymon, for Herodotos states (..) quite explicitly that Peisistratos had obtained chre– mata “from the Strymon,” and by that he must mean that he had obtained precious metal at least indirectly from the mines.67 The assumption that Peisistratos actually got control of the Pangaion mines (i.e., the right to work them himself) and derived continuous income “from the Strymon” after Palle– ne– and the reestablishment of his tyranny is based on that same passage in Herodotos.68 But Herodotos’ language has been misconstrued in this passage, which is generally understood apart from its context.The historian does not state a formula without context for how the tyranny was continuously maintained after Palle– ne– at ..; rather, he describes the means by which the tyranny succeeded at Palle– ne– and in the immediate aftermath in Athens.69 This information dovetails with the archaeological record of the Strymon region, which shows no evidence of an ongoing Athenian presence in the area in the late sixth century. Furthermore, there is no record in literature of any further Peisistratid activity in the region. In fact, neither Herodotos nor the author of the Ath.Pol. says anything about control of the mines: the latter states simply that Peisistratos “enriched” himself in the area of Mount Pangaion and that that enrichment could have come about in several ways, which have already been described.70 There is in fact a complete absence of evidence to indicate that the Peisistratids ever got direct control of any of the mines of Mount Pangaion, let alone kept it.71 On the other hand, there are several grounds for rejecting that view. First of all, most of the mines were located at some distance from the Strymon and even the Athenians of the fifth century in force failed utterly in their attempt to dispossess the Thracians of their holdings as they moved closer to them. Megabazos came against the Paionians with overwhelming force, according to Herodotos, and conquered and transported many of them to Asia; he could not, however, dislodge the mine-owning Thracians of Pangaion,the Satrai,apparently the toughest of a very tough lot.72 We must then ask, what could Peisistratos with a quite small band have done to control the Pangaion mines when Megabazos with the might of Persia behind him failed to take them, the very aim of his Thracian campaign? In fact, the Thracians stubbornly resisted all attempts to wrest the

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mines away from them.73 Second, Herodotos tells us that after leaving Thrace and reaching Eretria again Peisistratos called in markers from cities “which owed him.”74 That is to say, Peisistratos was in need of money after he left Thrace. Strange indeed, if Peisistratos kept control of or even if he had direct access to even one of the Pangaion mines and was obtaining regular revenues from it.Alexander I of Macedon received a talent of silver a day from a single mine on Mount Dysoron, a region not as rich as Pangaion;75 surely Peisistratos would not have needed such contributions if he had the proceeds from even one Pangaion mine. Third, the Wappenmünzen, the coins of Athens that were minted during Peisistratos’ third tyranny, must be the product of his acquisition of precious metals before returning to the tyranny there.The silver from which they were minted, however, came from various sources.The coins themselves differ markedly in content of silver and impurities, indicating that the metal did not derive from either one mine or two in the area of Pangaion but from several sources. In fact, although Peisistratos’ stocks must have included Thracian silver, it is yet to be proven whether any of the coins minted at Athens during the final tyranny were struck from Thracian metal.76 All the evidence we have implies that the Greeks of the sixth century never obtained direct control of the Pangaion mines.The view that Peisistratos got and kept control of the mines of Mount Pangaion is based on little more than supposition and ignores the fact that the evidence points to a continuous Thracian possession of the Pangaion mines. Peisistratos’ resources, though enhanced after his sojourn to Thrace, were quite circumscribed, as is indicated by the small denomination Wappenmünzen, the coins of the last phase of Peisistratos’ tyranny.

4. The Nature and Purpose of Peisistratid Settlement on the Strymon:The Examples of Histiaios and Aristagoras As a way of “reading” the Peisistratid settlement in the Strymon region better,we turn to the examples of Histiaios and Aristagoras and their plans and actions, keeping in mind the nature of Rhaike– los, the logical prototype for Peisistratos’ venture near Pangaion, as well as the obvious differences that existed between times and places. Although Histiaios’ arrived about a half century after Peisistratos and focused his efforts on Myrkinos, situated quite near Ennea Hodoi/Amphipolis, the Milesian must have come to the Strymon for reasons similar to those of Peisistratos.77 Histiaios first built a teichos (fort), thus fortifying his position and that of

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, ,  

his party against the Thracians; he did this somewhere upriver from Eion, very possibly at Ennea Hodoi.78 Myrkinos farther inland was near enough to the Strymon to command routes proximate to the river but also those around the northwestern flanks of Pangaion, those upon which the metals from the eastern flanks of the mountain and over toward Dato– n were apparently transported down to the emporion and then the sea. It is possible that closer control of these routes is what Histiaios desired in advancing to Myrkinos, a site in many ways markedly inferior to Ennea Hodoi/Amphipolis.79 Myrkinos was perhaps envisioned by him as a toll or trading station, but it was surely its connection to Pangaion mines that lured Histiaios to it: indeed, in advancing closer to the sources of the metals, Histiaios anticipated the movement inland of the Athenians to Drabeskos in  ... The success or failure of Histiaios’ enterprise depended entirely on his abilities and military effectiveness.The Milesian’s endeavors in the Strymon country temporarily ceased, however, when he was recalled by Dareios to Sousa after an alarm was sounded by Megabazos. Aristagoras, his successor, who came out during the Ionian rebellion of the early fifth century, was killed with all his men as they were battling to expand their holdings, with a view to the Pangaion mines. With his death, the Milesian initiative in the region came to an end.80 (We note, as Thucydides does, a hiatus, too, in the Athenians’ efforts to colonize Ennea Hodoi after the Drabeskos disaster.) Peisistratos’ enterprise on the Strymon may be compared to this but with some adjustment. First of all, we may accept that the enterprise depended on Peisistratos and his fighting capacities, as it did for Histiaios, Aristagoras, and even Hagnon. In each case, a war leader was the focus of the undertaking: it was on him that success or failure devolved. As we have witnessed, force and violence are implicit in the Pangaion region and Peisistratos’ military skills were obviously indispensable to the settlement and its operation. Any attempted exploitation of the area implied fighting. Peisistratos would have been called on to lead the company and defend the settlement against hostiles, some of whom may have been Greek, as well as head up the moneymaking ventures, trade, extortion, and the like. As with Histiaios, it is to be presumed that the Peisistratos’ first act was to fortify the settlement.The lack of archaeological remains from the area for the period approximate to Peisistratos’occupation of the place supports the notion that the settlement was small and built for temporary occupancy. The same holds for the still unlocated Rhaike– los: both were im-

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permanent.81 Unlike the settlements of Histiaios and Aristagoras, the Peisistratid enterprise was not intended as the first step in carving out a domain.As Rhaike– los, it was designed for limited purposes. Rhaike– los surely provides the best model for its successor on the Strymon.The latter would have been primarily a stronghold, controlling at least some surrounding land (between Amphipolis and Eion?) for the agricultural support of the settlers. It would have been used as a castle for the defense of the Peisistratids and their company (like Histiaios’ teichos), a sallying point from which to venture out along the routes traversing the country to extort tolls, an emporion (or the command of one) where precious metals were exchanged for Greek goods (conveyed by Eretrians?),82 and a fortified treasure house (or strongbox) where the accumulated profits were stored and protected.83 As Rhaike– los, Sigeion and the later Chersone– san colonies, the Strymon settlement was multifunctional, designed above all to sustain and protect the Peisistratids while they went about their task of amassing wealth for the return to Athens. We need not think that the experience of the Peisistratids while on the Strymon was of continuous fighting alone. It is possible that, as later exploiters of the region and the Thracian Chersone– se, the Peisistratidai cultivated the natives through gifts and the conclusion of marriage alliances.84 Miltiades (IV) employed the latter to good effect during his reign as tyrant in polis Agoraios (Bolayir) in the Chersone– se. Kleidemos’ reference to the marriage of Hipparchos to “Phye” and that of the Ath. Pol. to the “Thracian flower girl Phye” are certainly garbled, but they might amount to an oblique reference to a marriage between one or another of Peisistratos’ sons to the daughter of a local Thracian notable.85 One imagines that the benefits of such marriages would help to reduce hostilities and increase revenues.Those were certainly two of Miltiades’ aims in the Chersone– se.

5. Summary If, as seems most likely, return to Athens was the goal of the enterprise on the Strymon, Peisistratos and his party would have abided in Thrace only long enough to acquire the amount of wealth necessary to convince others (most importantly,perhaps,the Eretrians) of his success.Gains were hard won here, and it may have taken the Peisistratids many years to acquire even what appears to have been the minimum to effect their plans



, ,  

for return.86 The years in Thrace cannot have been happy ones for the exiles, who may well have sought to shorten their stay there by extraordinary means (e.g., more frequent and riskier raids). Perhaps one result of the Thracian sojourn was the hardening of the Peisistratids as fighters due to the climate and the interminable fighting in Thrace. Indeed, their superior conditioning may have had much to do with the rout of Palle– ne– . When the Peisistratids departed Thrace for Athens, they abandoned the Strymon country altogether and never looked back. Like Miltiades from the Chersone– se, Peisistratos apparently quit the region with all his philoi. According to AP, Peisistratos “hired some troops” in Thrace, but the author is likely to be presuming, after Herodotos’ lead, that Thracians were hired by the tyrant because Peisistratos had been in Thrace and because Thracians were renowned as mercenaries from the time of the Peloponnesian war.87 On the other hand, if there were intermarriages during the Thracian sojourn it is reasonable that the Athenians’ Thracian in-laws contributed fighters for Peisistratos’ restoration to the tyranny at Athens. (Of course, there is no record of any of Peisistratid marriage in Thrace or with Thracians.) Moreover, the archaeological record of the lower Strymon region suggests the presence there of defecting Thracians, such as Tokes of Eion, who appear to have become hellenized.88 The Thracians were very good fighters, and Peisistratos could have taken some with him first to Eretria and then to Athens either as retainers or hirelings.These should not be thought of as mercenaries, however, a term that implies at least some professional coherence and discipline, or as constituting any considerable number.We note that Thracians do not figure in Herodotos’ “Catalogue”of allies (and others) attending Peisistratos before Palle– ne– ,and that may be significant of their inconsiderable numbers.89

.  – –  A. Preliminaries: Eretria . Koisyra and the Eretrian Hippeis Peisistratos’ special relationship with the Eretrians, who harbored him after his flight from Attika, seems to have continued through the entire period of his second exile. It was really quite extraordinary.When Peisistratos arrived in Eretria, he was countryless, impoverished, and without any real prospects. In such straits, the Eretrians were remarkably hospitable, cooperative, and actually fundamental to his rejuvenation. In a

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very real sense, without their assistance Peisistratos would have had no chance to return to Athens. Eretria became the base for the buildup of forces before the invasion of Attika. Not only did the Eretrians sanction that buildup, but they contributed to it, becoming fighting allies of Peisistratos.The aid rendered Peisistratos by the Eretrians was truly outstanding and suggests some special tie to him. An explanation for such extraordinary relations and Eretria’s generous support at the end of Peisistratos’ exile is to be found in the scholion ad Nubes . Here it is said that one Koisyra, a woman from Eretria, married Peisistratos “when he attempted to rule as tyrant.”90 According to other scholia about her, this Koisyra became synonymous among the Athenians with wealth, luxurious living, and “thinking big” (mevga fronei`n), terms regularly attached to tyrants and tyrannical behavior.91 On appearances, the Eretrian Koisyra haled from a noble, wealthy, and presumably high-ranking Eretrian house. In view of her status, her kinsmen would not have fixed on a husband for her unless he had what they considered rather bright prospects. If what is said about her in our sources is true, she would not have had it otherwise. This scholion is admittedly quite late, but it should nevertheless be accepted as preserving at least some valid information. Such scholia to Aristophanes’ comedies frequently contain good evidence, some of which, as here, may have been drawn ultimately from an Atthis. It is in any case difficult to imagine how the information about this otherwise obscure personage could have been invented.92 In fact, we have evidence of an Athenian Koisyra who, on an ostraka cast apparently in  ..., was accused of “high living.”The accusation can hardly have been coincidental. It appears that this Athenian Koisyra was related to, and actually a namesake of, the Eretrian one who married Peisistratos “when he attempted to rule as tyrant.”93 If the wording of the scholion is accurate, it rules out the possibility that the marriage could have occurred while Peisistratos was tyrant, that is, during his second or third tyranny. Rather, it had to have taken place in one of the periods of exile.We have seen that Peisistratos was likely married to Timonassa during his first exile and through his second tyranny; he was away in the north for much of his last exile.The most probable time for the marriage arrangement to have occurred was toward the end of his second exile, when we know that he was basing himself in Eretria (see appendix C.). Peisistratos’ fortunes and prospects were really at their lowest ebb upon arrival at Eretria from Attika; they were not much better when he was



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away in Thrace.That period must have been a very trying one for Peisistratos and his party. The settlements at Rhaike– los and on the Strymon were temporary affairs crafted for necessity, not luxury; the environment was harsh and conditions dangerous. It was hardly the kind of place where we would expect to find a fine Eretrian lady renowned for her luxurious ways.94 Peisistratos’ prospects were much brighter after returning from the north, especially when men and chre– mata began to pour into Eretria. Indeed, if the scholion may be taken literally, the marriage occurred while Peisistratos was actively seeking the tyranny, that is, after his return from the north and before Palle– ne– .95 The Eretrians had favored Peisistratos when they harbored him after his second exile and continued to do so during the Thracian sojourn.They openly declared for him and his cause on his return from the north. For the Eretrians, the notably “high-maintenance” Eretrian lady, and her family, Peisistratos looked a winner on his return from Thrace, when donations kept coming in to help to restore him to the tyranny at Athens. The marriage alliance was surely just that and must have involved yet another quid pro quo. Just as Peisistratos’ earlier marriage to Timonassa had obtained for him a force of Argives to fight at Palle– ne– , so should the marriage to Koisyra have entailed another such arrangement. She would become the wife of the tyrant; her apparently well-connected family would guarantee participation of the Eretrian hippeis in the actual campaign leading to Palle– ne– .96 Eretria’s investment in Peisistratos and his enterprise became more substantial than it had ever been during Peisistratos’ exile, as the Eretrians essentially declared war on the Athenians. Presumably, for his part, as with Gorgilos of Argos, Peisistratos would bestow patrimonies of some sort on offspring from the Eretrian union. . Lygdamis and Deeds before Palle– ne– Herodotos implies (..) that Peisistratos began taking contributions for his campaign of return immediately after his arrival in Eretria, but that implication is weakened by his specification of the term of exile as ten years (..); it is further undermined by Herodotos’ later admission that after Palle– ne– Peisistratos derived chre– mata from the Strymon (..).97 As we have seen, the gap in Herodotos’ sequence of events is again plausibly filled in by AP (.). According to him, Peisistratos arrived in Eretria from Thrace and there undertook to restore himself to power in Athens.98 The testimony of the two authors together permits the following sequence:

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after some time in the north, Peisistratos returned to Eretria and bided there, gathering wealth and allies for the campaign in Attika.The nucleus of the campaigning force was the party that accompanied him north and was perhaps enlarged by others (Athenians?) who may have joined him there or at Eretria; his own efforts in Thrace earned wealth for Peisistratos, but he needed more.To his core of resources, men or chre– mata or both were contributed by the Thebans, Lygdamis of Naxos, the Argives, and the hippeis of Eretria.99 Herodotos emphasizes that Lygdamis was especially enthusiastic and that he furnished both wealth and men. Although the interval after Thrace and before Palle– ne– might appear brief, important events took place during it.The evidence for this is indirect. Herodotos says (..) that, after Palle– ne– , Peisistratos deposited Athenian hostages with Lygdamis on Naxos, which Peisistratos had reduced in war and given over to him.100 The implication of the testimony of the Ath.Pol. (.) is, however, that the conquest of Naxos for Lygdamis occurred after Palle– ne– , but it is unreliable here for a number of reasons.101 First, Herodotos indicates that hostages were taken after the battle and deposited with Lygdamis on Naxos. Peisistratos’ acts after Palle– ne– were memorable, and it is more likely that Herodotos got it right here than did AP. Obviously, hostages could not have been made over to the Naxian tyrant if the island had yet to be reduced to his rule. Second, Lygdamis could not reasonably have contributed wealth and men “enthusiastically” if he was without the resources to do so. If Lygdamis required Peisistratos’ help to conquer Naxos, he did not yet have the power to control the island or to offer such support. Indeed, what could he have supplied before Naxos allowed him the resources to do so? Peisistratos, on the other hand, possessed a solid core of veterans on his return and could perhaps count additionally on the assistance of the Eretrians to help him take Naxos for Lygdamis.Consequently,unless Peisistratos reduced Naxos for Lygdamis before or during the Thracian sojourn—unlikely events since his attentions and energies had to have been absorbed first for his own survival and then for his own aims—the only time possible for the Naxian campaign was after Peisistratos’ sojourn north and before his invasion of Attika or, in other words, during his time at Eretria in preparation for the return to Athens.This is in fact implied by Herodotos, and the historian does indicate that, as some time passed there assembling the invasion force, there was plenty of time to do so (..). It makes a good deal of sense to think that Peisistratos was active militarily during his time back from the north and before the Attic campaign

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and not just on behalf of Lygdamis. Peisistratos asked for contributions of money and men from cities “which owed him.” Herodotos’ language suggests that the contributions that came in to Peisistratos stemmed from obligations, and so he must have done something beneficial for the cities that had made them indebted.102 In Lygdamis’ case, Peisistratos’ benefaction was to set him up as tyrant of Naxos.103 In other cases, the obligations appear to have been of a different sort: the Argives and Eretrians participated, at least in part, because of Peisistratos’ marriage alliances. In regard to the Thebans, things are not so clear, but it seems that, as in the case of Lygdamis, there was some benefaction, that it was more recent rather than accomplished during one or other of the two earlier periods of tyranny, and that it brought Thebes solidly into the fold of allies. Perhaps Peisistratos deployed his men in the service of the Thebans on a campaign of their own. (Actually, the same need not be ruled out for Argos or Eretria: Peisistratos could have done them military service as well.) In any case, the Thebans contributed more chre– mata to the war effort than did any of Peisistratos’ other allies, and something Peisistratos did (or perhaps was to do) for them must account for their enthusiasm.104 To return to Lygdamis: the conquest of Naxos may have been speedy, but Lygdamis’ consolidation of power, his “rooting” of his own tyranny, could not have happened overnight and would have required some time. He would not likely risk a foreign venture immediately after attaining power on Naxos. If that is the case and there was some delay between Naxos’ conquest and the campaign leading to Palle– ne– , Peisistratos’ efforts on Lygdamis’ behalf might best be placed early after his return from the north. Perhaps the campaign on Naxos was a “dry run” for Palle– ne– or Peisistratos was simply flexing and getting the kinks out of the military “muscle” he and his confederates had added in the north.105 In any event, a quid pro quo better explains why Herodotos says that some were indebted to Peisistratos and why some of these contributed enthusiastically. A further speculation: Peisistratos’ investment of time and resources at Naxos may also signal the first step in creating an Athenian presence in the Aegean.106 One of Peisistratos’ initial acts on regaining the tyranny was to cleanse Delos, thus emphatically stating his and Athens’ interest in the mid-Aegean (cf. appendix G). Naxos was one of the keys to the Aegean: it was a rich and prosperous island with a sizable navy astride a main east-west sea route. It was the object of the scheming of Aristagoras and Artaphernes before the Ionian revolt. It was taken and reduced by the Persian fleet on its way to Marathon in  ..., and of course

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the Athenians went to great lengths to return it to the Delian League once it had defected.107 Perhaps Peisistratos was looking ahead to the construction of a buffer for Athens and the Greek mainland against aggression, especially after the Persians had arrived on the shores of Ionia in force.108 The intervention on Naxos is to be coupled with the purification of Delos, a short distance from it, as a further gesture implying Athens’ presence in the area. Peisistratos was demonstrating for the islanders—and the Athenians—that Athens’ interests exceeded its own boundaries and the Saronic Gulf.Whether or not Peisistratos’ external policies may be read further into the Naxian campaign on behalf of Lygdamis, this gesture, together with the purification of Delos, informed the Greeks that Athens’ further interests would henceforth be implicated with the Aegean.

B. Resources . The “Catalogue” of Allies Of the many who offered a great amount of money, the Thebans surpassed all in their donations. Afterward, to make a long story short, time passed and they prepared all things for the return.The Argive hirelings arrived from the Peloponnese and a Naxian, a volunteer for them, Lygdamis by name, was very zealous and brought them both money and men. . . .While they were bivouacked at Marathon, partisans from the city arrived and others from the demes kept streaming in, who found tyranny more to their liking than freedom.109 —Herodotos ..–. Although Herodotos purposefully overstates the massing of allies at Eretria, Peisistratos appears nonetheless to have gathered to him as many warriors as he could, presumably to ensure himself the best chances of success.110 (Of course, this, too, must be viewed as part of Peisistratos’ strategy of return.) Notwithstanding the descriptions of the contingents by Herodotos and AP, it is not easy to reckon the exact size of the army that landed at Marathon.111 If the “thousand” contributed by the Argives (Ath.Pol. .) is accurate and not simply a rounded number,112 and if it may be considered representative of the number of warriors supplied by the Eretrians and the “enthusiastic” Lygdamis, then the forces of these three together amounted to three thousand warriors.113 Presumably, the majority were hoplites. If there were additional contingents contributed

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, ,  

by others not explicitly mentioned in Herodotos,114 these were surely smaller in comparison with those explicitly cited by the historians (viz., Lygdamis, the Eretrians, and the Argives). All of these, who, Herodotos says, came from obligation or otherwise, did not serve for pay, since Peisistratos was asking for contributions all the while and getting both men and money from participants (cf. section .B.). Those who marshaled with Peisistratos on Eretria were thus neither mercenaries nor paid professionals, but regular warriors.115 Added to these was the original hard core of Peisistratos’ supporters who had come down with him from Thrace, including perhaps some few Thracians, and still others from Attika who may have joined him at Eretria.116 These veterans of Rhaike– los and the Strymon were by now both seasoned and coherent,having fought together for years in Thrace. The most heavily armed of Peisistratos’ forces at Eretria would thus seem to have amounted to around four thousand altogether—a formidable force to be sure, which grew stronger upon its arrival at Marathon. Herodotos says (..) that defectors from the city joined Peisistratos while he was encamped at Marathon and partisans from the countryside “kept streaming in.”These defections were crucial for Peisistratos’ success at Palle– ne– , for they not only swelled the numbers of his effectives but also both depleted the Athenian numbers and diminished the will of the Athenians to resist. Not all of the Peisistratid forces at Palle– ne– were hoplites. Herodotos implies a cavalry contingent when he says (..) that after the battle Peisistratos ordered his sons to mount their horses and ride among the fleeing men of the city, bidding them each go to their homes. Presumably a portion of the cavalry force was made up of Eretrian hippeis.Added to these, there could have been a few mounted partisans from the Attic diakria and some Thracian horsemen.117 It has been suggested that the Thracians who accompanied Peisistratos were archers, but there is no evidence for archers at Palle– ne– .118 If Thracians were present, they are likeliest to have been peltasts, swordsmen, or, like Tokes, mounted warriors. These were surely not many but possibly some few personal retainers of Peisistratos’. Nevertheless, exotic in their fox skins and paint and fierce in fighting, these few Thracians could have been used, quite literally, as “shock troops” to strike fear into the “men of the city,” many of whom would probably never have beheld such barbaroi, non-speakers of Greek.119 (We think of how frightened the Greeks were of the Persians and their outlandish garb before the battle of Marathon.)

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It is impossible either to confirm or deny the presence of Thracians at the battle of Palle– ne– , since, as we have seen, the testimony of the Ath.Pol. that Peisistratos recruited Thracians, is not above suspicion.120 The formidability of the force Peisistratos fielded at Palle– ne– is confirmed by comparison of it with other military forces fielded by the Athenians.The entire Athenian muster sent to Marathon in  ... against the Persians amounted to perhaps only nine thousand heavily armed troops.121 With the defections occurring at Marathon and later at Palle– ne– , Peisistratos’ force would have amounted to more than half that, albeit not entirely made up of hoplites.Any possible difference, however, was made up in the quality of Peisistratos’ force, especially the hard core of his immediate entourage. Exiles for nearly a decade, these fighters will have been as determined to win home as Peisistratos was, if only to reestablish themselves and their fortunes in their own native land. Peisistratos himself, however, victor in the Megarian war and successful commander in Thrace and on Naxos, was once again the expedition’s driving force, commander, and “soul.” He possessed by now a very long record of military successes, topped off by recent ones in the north and perhaps elsewhere in Greece (e.g., Naxos): thus, he was even more formidable for the reputation that went before him.Talk among the “men of the city”preceding Palle– ne– ,from the time of Peisistratos’departure from Eretria to his arrival at the temple of Athena Palle– nis, surely worked in his favor, for by now he must have seemed a formidable figure indeed. (Peisistratos’ supporters will certainly have magnified his victories, his presence, and his potential.) His reputation worked to enhance the morale of his warriors and drain that of his opponents, for they had no leader like him on their side.Although Herodotos’ account of the events leading to Palle– ne– is embellished with motifs of divine favor and destiny and these seem to derive from his fifth-century source(s), the historian describes Peisistratos quite plausibly as responsible both for discerning the decisive moment to strike the Athenians and for seeing the battle through to a rapid conclusion.That role may be fictional, but, as strate– gos, Peisistratos undoubtedly led the charge that routed the Athenians of the city. The motifs of divine assistance in Herodotos are untrustworthy,but the evidence of the operation implies that Peisistratos was the strategist and tactician of the expedition. Assembling the force at Eretria, Peisistratos brought it to land at Marathon presumably to attract defectors from the mesogaia.The movements of the invading force from then on were deliberately slow, one imagines to ascertain Athenian reactions, to encour-

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age more defections, to undermine further the morale of the opposition, and to keep Peisistratos’ foreign allies outside of the Athenian pale.With the battle all but won and the tyranny restored (cf. section .C.), there were politics to consider, and by now Peisistratos knew Athenian politics very well (cf. section .D).There was no good reason to bring foreigners into the city itself, as Kylon had done and Isagoras was to do, but some very compelling ones to keep them well away from it. It appears that the Athenians who came to Palle– ne– mustered fewer warriors than Peisistratos’ force. Most of these must have been citizen hoplites. Led, we are told, by the Alkmeonidai, who formed the ostensible core of resistance to Peisistratos, Herodotos implies that the numbers of “men of the city” were constantly shrinking, as Athenians kept going over to Peisistratos. (One imagines that the Kylonian pollution did nothing to encourage confidence in the Alkmeonidai.) Whatever Peisistratos’opponents managed to muster,they were outmatched by the Peisistratid army in quality certainly and commitment apparently. If the men of the city possessed any cavalry at all, their horsemen were of no account in the battle. The sense of inferiority of the men of the city, implied all along in Herodotos’ account of the events leading up to Palle– ne– , may be construed as part of the Herodotean “apology of haplessness” in the logos.The implication is that the Athenians were overwhelmed by forces neither they nor anybody else could reasonably withstand. The impression that the ranks of the Athenians of the city were being constantly depleted by defections increases the sense of helplessness of the “heroic” few who stood firm and suffered the onslaught.The implied ineptitude of these, sleeping or playing at draughts when the attack finally came, may well be only apparent (cf. section .C.–). . Peisistratos’ Chre– mata and Its Uses Herodotos repeatedly stresses that Peisistratos received contributions of chre– mata before the battle, implying that these donations helped to produce its results; later, he alludes to chre– mata collected by Peisistratos in the Strymon region. Some of what was amassed would obviously have been used to defray the costs of the final expedition.However,since some fighting allies were also contributing ones, Peisistratos’ chre– mata must have been intended primarily for purposes other than paying his allies. Indeed, it must be that the chre– mata was, for the most part, intended to be channeled into distribution to the Athenian de– mos, just as Megakles had chan-

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neled it to maintain his hold over it.Thus,the greatest amount of chre– mata was to help root the tyranny by providing funds for Peisistratos’ political ends in the aftermath of the battle.122 This is exactly what Herodotos says happened. Peisistratos’ overall strategy seems clear enough: he meant to dispose of any hard core Athenian opposition, that is, the residue left after the defections ceased, by means of his overwhelming force of allies. Peisistratos may have used some of the chre– mata to entice the Athenians to his side before the battle,but surely the size of the forces and the success they foretold were a further inducement to defect.123 He may also have employed part of the chre– mata to encourage traitors within the ranks of the men of the city so that they would betray their own or simply stop fighting when the battle commenced (see section .D.).With the battle won, however, the bulk of the chre– mata would ensure (if anything could ensure) that the Athenian de– mos would remain favorably disposed toward Peisistratos and his tyranny.The war chest present at Palle– ne– would become the pay box for his government. Its contents, collected from various sources—the north, Greek city-states, and Attika itself—account for the variance in the fabric of the Wappenmünzen, the coins of Peisistratos’ final tyranny.124 This was the outcome of Peisistratos’ grasp of the strategy that was needed to win Athens for the moment and over time.125

C. The Battle . Tactics Implied by Herodotos’Account These [sc. the forces of Peisistratos] encamped there [sc. at Marathon].The Athenians of the city, on the other hand, made nothing of it while Peisistratos was collecting funds [sc. on Eretria] and even afterwards when he occupied Marathon. However, when they heard that he was marching on the city from Marathon, they went out to oppose him.They went with the whole army against those returning, and the army of Peisistratos, which had set out from Marathon and was on its way to the city, coming together [with them] at the same spot, arrived at the temple of Athena Palle–nis and ground their weapons in opposition.126 —Herodotos ..– According to Herodotos, when Peisistratos landed at Marathon, he kept quiet there for an unspecified time. His enemies in Athens did noth-

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ing while he bided his time.When Peisistratos moved on Athens, however, the men of the city advanced to the east, to the temple of Athena at Palle– ne– , to block his entrance into the land of Athens.127 The diakria was obviously not yet “Athenian,” for, quite contrary to the Athenians’ reaction to the landing of Hippias and the Persians at Marathon in  ..., the men of the city held their peace as long as Peisistratos was outside Athenian home territory in the diakria and were only stirred to action when his intentions of moving on Athens became clear. Obviously, the temple area was the dividing line between asty and mesogaia. Peisistratos remained at Marathon to wait on developments. Defections appear to have been numerous, if we can trust Herodotos. His use of the imperfect proserreon suggests a constant flow of Athenians going over to Peisistratos.128 At Marathon,Peisistratos could ascertain from the defectors the mood of the Athenians and whether and on what terms they would accept him. Perhaps he waited at Palle– ne– for similar reasons.129 It was one thing, after all, to win the battle but quite another to establish the tyranny firmly. Peisistratos must have been concerned with the will of the people, and while the delays could be taken as signs to indicate his desire to erode the strength and morale of his opponents they could also signal his wish to avoid unnecessary violence and thus court popularity among the Athenians.The aftermath of Palle– ne– as described by Herodotos indicates that Peisistratos was in fact concerned to limit the bloodshed. If this is true, it was calculated behavior and determined Peisistratos’ restraint after the rout. Such calculation accords with the general tenor of the campaign, beginning with Peisistratos’ deliberate plan to amass necessary resources by going north to Thrace. His invasion of Athens was a carefully planned, thought-out operation, not an emotional, vengeful kind of blitzkrieg (as the Persians and Hippias might seem to have engaged in at Marathon). In that vein, it is not at all unlikely that Peisistratos made explicit overtures especially to the men of the city to stand down from their arms before the battle or to clear the road and allow his peaceful return to Athens. Of course,such information would not have survived in our sources,since recollections of collaboration of this sort, that is, any such who accepted the overtures, would not be forthcoming from Athenian sources. The battle of Palle– ne– was,as we shall presently see,a very bad memory for fifthcentury Athenians. The men of the city took up defensive position at the temple of Athena Palle– nis.130 It is possible that, arriving earlier than Peisistratos, the Athe-

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nians dug in at the temenos, perhaps behind a wall there, using it as a defensive perimeter and strong point from which to face attack.The men of the city were certainly in a defensive position ultimately, since, when the battle was finally joined, it was they who were attacked and taken unawares.They seem to have stood down from their arms, perhaps trusting too much to their only superficially superior position. If the men of the city meant to bar the road into Athens, they had adopted sound tactics. Defense suited those who could hope to outwait Peisistratos.131 Time was on their side, since Peisistratos, whose army was composed mainly of allies, must act sooner rather than later and force the issue.The allied troops would not remain with him indefinitely. On the other hand, if Peisistratos wanted to ensure himself the easiest victory and avoid bloodshed, he must also bide his time and continue to encourage defections. He seems thus to have been walking a kind of tightrope between prudent hesitation, governed by political and other concerns, and the necessity of immediate attack dictated by the nature and condition of his army. The circumstances of the actual battle are suspicious even if we take Herodotos’ account to be generally accurate. When the attack finally came, the men of the city were caught seemingly unawares, some having turned to their midday meals, some to gaming, and some to sleep. It was in this condition that Peisistratos’ forces fell on and routed them.132 This lack of vigilance around the time when the attack finally came could be taken to indicate that the men of the city were overconfident in their defensive position or possibly that they were betrayed (cf. section .D.). The information, which seems to make the Athenian rank and file appear foolish, shifts the blame for the apparent rout from their leaders, ostensibly the Alkmeonidai. However, their foolishness is, in turn, mitigated by the sense of Peisistratos’ divine sponsorship and the futility of resistance (cf. section .C.). Peisistratos’ inaction at Palle– ne– might actually help to explain the rout depicted in Herodotos.While sitting still to encourage defections, Peisistratos may have feigned quietude to lull the men of the city into believing that the exiles and their allies would not attack after midday.133 At length, Peisistratos attacked, in Herodotos, after interpreting an omen from his seer, Amphilytos. His army appears to have won the battle suddenly and without much resistance. Were things actually as straightforward as Herodotos makes them in the account?

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. Palle– ne– in Fifth-Century Context: Problems at Source Herodotos’ account of the battle—and, indeed, of the events leading up to it—portrays some Athenians as insouciant before the battle and others as unconscious, at least at its beginning.The Athenians were caught flatfooted and routed. So precipitous is the flight depicted in Herodotos that Peisistratos sent his sons ahead on horseback to overtake the fugitives as they were running away to direct them cheerfully each to their homes. Palle– ne– in Herodotos’extended account is no battle at all.In fact,that brief description of the battle in Herodotos is contradicted not only by other testimony about it but even by the historian himself later on. The historian’s treatment of the battle fits again into the scheme of apology for the tyranny.Through to the aftermath of Palle– ne– , Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise to power emphasizes the tyrant’s invincibility and the Athenians’ hopelessness before him.That the Athenians at Palle– ne– were caught unawares and defeated is overshadowed by the implied inefficacy of opposition to one divinely sponsored. In Herodotos’ account, resistance by the Athenians was futile, for the battle was over before it was fought:Amhiplytos’ introduction and the prophecy he utters sets the seal on Athenian resistance.134 No resistance was possible in fact. Such is the superficial account of the battle. Herodotos’ revisionist recounting of events in his main description is confirmed by the contradiction he supplies later. At .., he specifies that “some of the Athenians fell in the fight [at Palle– ne– ],” thus indicating that some of the men of the city put up a fight and died as a result.This was not as easy a victory as Herodotos makes it out to be in the main account of the battle: Herodotos himself says so. However, reminding his readers that the Athenians resisted is counterproductive for what Herodotos, or his source(s), wants the reader (or listener) to come away with, that is, that the battle was over well before it was fought.This is in fact the theme governing the highlighted account from the outset of the logos.The historian’s description of Palle– ne– is in fact the crescendoed finale of Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise: it ends what is begun with the encounter of Chilon and Hippokrates. Amphilytos balances Chilon: his unerring prophecy, which Peisistratos grasped immediately, signals the delivery of the promise alluded to by Chilon in his encounter with Hippokrates.The battle was lost, the tyranny established, one might well say, before Peisistratos was born. In Herodotos’ account, Palle– ne– is

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the seal of the god’s sponsorship that guided Peisistratos to the tyranny.135 Accordance with the supernatural theme of the entire logos explains both the extent and content of Herodotos’ very brief, very selectively reported account of the battle. The question is: what history do we have here at all?136 A variant account of battle by the Athenian orator Andokides adds to the difficulty of knowing exactly what transpired. It opposes Herodotos, proclaiming the action at Palle– ne– no loss at all. After the city had come into great evils, when the tyrants ruled the city and the de–mos had fled, your forefathers were victorious fighting the tyrants at Palle–ne–, my great-grandfather Leogoras being the general and Charias, his son-in-law . . . when they returned to the homeland, they killed some, condemned others to exile, and some they permitted to remain in the city after they had stripped them of civic rights.137 —Andok. De Myst.  Although Raubitschek and MacDowell have attempted valiantly to salvage Andokides’ description of Palle– ne– , it seems impossible even if we credit Herodotos, our only control, with merely rough accuracy. Andokides’ garbled account, which really means to feature his forebears as tyrant resisters, is without historical merit for the sixth century, if only for the fundamental difference of making the obvious defeat we read about in Herodotos into a victory.138 There are, in fact, many problems with Andokides’ account. First, although Andokides refers to Palle– ne– , the only battle of which we know occurred ca.  ..., his great-grandfather Leagoras is strate– gos. From what else we know about him, Leagoras was not old enough to have been a general in .139 Second, reference to the de– mos is an acknowledgment of the standard political and ideological polarity of fifth-century Athens: the de– mos, not the men of the city, oppose tyranny.This polarity was certainly not in place during the sixth century at Athens. As we have witnessed, the de– mos did not oppose tyranny as a rule: many of its members defected to Peisistratos before the battle, according to Herodotos. (Nor did the de– mos “flee” before Palle– ne– , unless e[feuge is to be taken as “defected.”)140 Finally,Andokides says that some were killed, some exiled, and some “stripped of political rights, but allowed to remain in the city.”This sort of meted punishment is best assigned to tyrannical types, not to deliverers of Athens: in fact, it reads as if the tyrants were en-

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trenched within Athens, not coming to attack from without. Finally, to imply that some who remained in the city after the battle were made atimoi (dishonored) is an impossibility in view of what we know of sixthcentury atimia (dishonor): those labeled as such could certainly not continue to abide in the city unmolested.This is clearly an anachronism.141 Andokides’ account is thus not credible: he indicates no understanding of where the battle occurred, who participated in it, or its outcome. The salient fact for him is that the battle of Palle– ne– was a victory achieved under his great-grandfather. The likeliest cause for these inept revisions was the shame of Palle– ne– , magnified by prevailing negative attitudes toward the tyranny in fifthcentury Athens. In Andokides’ account, the revisions seem designed specifically to benefit the speaker by recasting his great-grandfather as the active opponent of the tyrants.142 Perhaps Andokides’ ancestors, like the Alkmeonidai, had been tyrant supporters and this was an attempt to cloud over their collaboration.The orator does acknowledge that his ancestors could have married into the tyrant’s family.143 (In the speech, Andokides, who had been implicated with Alkibiades in the profanation of the Mysteries [and so with one who was suspected of having tyrannical aspirations], was attempting to show, by his reference to Leagoras, that his tendencies were not by nature hybristic or impious, and so sympathetic to tyranny, but antityrannical and so antihybristic.) While Andokides’ account contains no evident historical data for the battle of Palle– ne– in  ..., it does show that the author created his own way of negating uncomfortable facts, even to the point of falsifying them outrageously. The painfulness of what happened at Palle– ne– and the recasting of actions in fifth-century terms are also evident in Herodotos’ characterization of the defectors whom he calls (..) “those who found tyranny preferable to freedom.”These were of course traitors, but their specific identities are hidden in the generalization. Although it is surely members of the de– mos Herodotos (or his source) criticizes here, albeit obliquely—the de– mos had the most to gain from defecting after all— the phrase may be taken to encompass higher-level defections as well.144 In fact, such defections would help to explain why Peisistratos’ victory was so easy.145 Although Herodotos says nothing about it specifically, there are certain grounds for believing that treason occurred at Palle– ne– as well as before it. Herodotos alludes to it before the battle, Peisistratos had the

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wherewithal to effect it, and betrayal would have suited him, since he could gain what he wanted with less trouble, risk, or bloodshed.Treachery would explain the lack of vigilance of the Athenians opposing Peisistratos, their swift and total defeat, and to some extent Andokides’ garbled memory of it.146 The rout, which we have no reason to doubt as fact,147 is better explained if treason occurred on the battlefield—perhaps similar to the famous shield signal of Marathon.148 Memories of the defeat at Palle– ne– and its upshot, the tyranny “permanently” restored, appear to have become so painful to fifth-century Athenians that the facts surrounding them could not be treated straightforwardly. Herodotos’ (source’s) remedy for the memory of Palle– ne– is brevity and vagueness—no glory for either side. In Andokides, the defeat is made over completely into triumph: in fact, it becomes a victory of the tyrant’s foes against the tyrant and his forces, the exact opposite of what it was.There is falsity in both accounts, but it is most difficult to separate out the truth in Herodotos. . Toward Reconstruction Although there are substantial problems with our sources, we may take some things as secure.A battle at Palle– ne– was fought between the opposing forces of Peisistratos and Athenians from the city.The ostensible leaders of the latter were the Alkmeonidai. Before that battle, Peisistratos had forged a coalition of allies to march with him against his opponents for the purpose of restoring his tyranny.The two sides met at the boundary between “Athens” and the mesogaia, with the men of the city barring the way into the city. Peisistratos launched an attack that turned into a rout. Some Athenians put up a resistance and died.The majority left the field, dispersing to their homes.149 The victory was total.The road to Athens lay open. Peisistratos took the city and became tyrant again. A few things can be added, which are, of course, not hard facts. From Marathon, Peisistratos moved slowly and cautiously, encouraging defections as he went. The men of the city, anticipating Peisistratos’ route, reached Palle– ne– before him and took up defensive positions around or near the temple. Perhaps the men of the city were lulled into a false sense of security, for somehow they created an opening for attack. Perhaps there was treachery involved on the Athenian side.Taking advantage,Peisistratos delivered an unexpected lightning strike, which overwhelmed the Athenians. Peisistratos’ force may have ground arms at Palle– ne– (cf. section

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.D.), for Herodotos suggests that the cavalry did the mopping up—perhaps chasing the Athenians to their homes but more likely preparing the path into the city for Peisistratos. Whether or not, as Herodotos says, the Athenians were caught unawares, the men of the city were most likely outnumbered, undoubtedly outclassed (especially by the hardened core of Peisistratos and his philoi), and certainly demoralized. Defectors kept defecting; the invaders’ numbers were substantial to begin with but continued to grow.The Athenians also had to cope not only with the formidability of their opponents and Peisistratos’ reputation, enhanced by his Thracian sojourn and military triumphs as strate– gos for them during the Megarian war and in other theaters on his own, but also with their own lack of ideological commitment to resist him. Peisistratos had been popular before with the de– mos. Many ancient Greek battles were won or lost on morale, and the Athenian men of the city,many of them,may not have understood exactly what they were fighting for. (The significant number of defections mentioned could be taken as a sign of such confusion.) Treachery during or before the battle—generally suspected by soldiers when things aren’t going well and many times confirmed in the battle’s aftermath—would have sapped the last remnant of the will to resist. Many Athenians had cooperated with Peisistratos before, and many would again: it is far from unlikely that, gazing out over Peisistratos’ assembled host, some of men of the city saw a chance for themselves by selling out to the tyrant before the battle. If that is so, then these were likelier to be from among the higher echelons of command.And, of course, the Alkmeonidai were not above selling out to the Peisistratids on other occasions.

D. Aftermath . The End of the Campaign Although it is not stated, it seems very likely that the canny Peisistratos halted the foreign contingents outside of Athens, perhaps even as far away as Palle– ne– .150 It was a good place to end the campaign: Peisistratos did not want to damage Athens—there was everything to lose by having it harmed—and he surely could not have helped his cause in the longer run by letting in the foreign army.The allies could not have remained for any length of time in any case, for they were not going to become an occupation force.The battle won, it was opportune for Peisistratos to declare

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all debts squared and to dismiss the allies with thanks on the doorstep of the “pale.”We observe that there is no evidence complaining that Peisistratos invaded Athens with foreign troops. Thus far, hostilities had taken place well away from Athens, and technically Peisistratos and his retinue could not be formally charged with bringing foreigners against the city or, for that matter, onto “Athenian” soil. Restraint and magnanimity would win favor and popularity once more; license, vengeance, and any repetition of a Kylonian-type occupation would not. Peisistratos was renowned as a “good” tyrant, and bloodshed in the aftermath of Palle– ne– would not have escaped notice.151 Peisistratos was now also more politically astute.Apart from Herodotos’ information about taking hostages and forcing exiles—the latter testimonium is suspect, as we shall presently see—there is no evidence for violent reprisals or for a Peisistratid-led foreign occupation of the city after Palle– ne– . There is, on the contrary, evidence for cooperation of the Peisistratids with even the most renowned “resisters” during Peisistratos’ third tyranny. Peisistratos had no guarantees that at some time the Athenians would not unite against him after the departure of his allies. (He was incapable of subsidizing massive numbers of bodyguards, the presence of whom is again unrecorded and in any case would compound the unpopularity of his renewed regime.)152 It was vital for Peisistratos to anticipate and remove any reasons for the Athenians to rally against him.Yet, with the battle won so decisively, he calculated that there was no longer a need for a standing army. Peisistratos’ cadre of philoi would do quite well for the moment: these were mostly Athenian. In the longer run,Athenian goodwill toward him would have to do. We must remember, too, that after Palle– ne– there were no real opponents left standing. Opposition had been shattered or his former opponents co-opted. . Exiles and Hostages? Peisistratos’ return to Athens would have involved consolidation and so prudential measures. Herodotos says (..) that some Athenians fled into exile and that hostages were taken and deposited with Lygdamis on Naxos. On the other hand, there is no evidence for mass deportations or exiles or confiscations of property in the wake of Palle– ne– .Whatever measures were actually taken in the short run had to have been limited in scope, politically oriented, and, it appears, surgically performed.153 This is corroborated to some degree by Herodotos.

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Herodotos says explicitly (..) that chief among the exiles were the Alkmeonidai, ostensible leaders of the men of the city at Palle– ne– . Peisistratos had good enough reason to banish at least some of the Alkmeonidai. They had remained interposed between Peisistratos and the favor of the de– mos, Megakles effecting his will seemingly effortlessly through it before Palle– ne– . To disengage the Alkmeonids from their leadership of the de– mos was desirable so that Peisistratos could take over their “game”: the tyrant had spent years gathering chre– mata to distribute and so to beat Megakles and the others with their own means.The immediate aftermath of Palle– ne– was crucial for Peisistratos to establish himself with the de– mos, and he was best able to do that if the Alkmeonidai were temporarily removed from Athens. If such exile were imposed—and if Herodotos’ mention of it is not merely part of yet another attempt to cover up some shady business of the Alkmeonids—it was not “perpetual.” Perhaps Peisistratos exercised clemency. Perhaps he believed that enough time had passed and that his relationship with the de– mos had been cemented. Possibly he realized that the Alkmeonidai were useful to him in keeping the de– mos’ favor. In any case, the exile of the Alkmeonidai ended some time thereafter.154 Indeed, members of the genos were not only back in Athens but cooperating once again with the Peisistratids well before Peisistratos’ death in – ... We find Kleisthenes, the son of Megakles, Peisistratos’ nemesis according to Herodotos, holding the archonship for – ..., immediately after Hippias, Peisistratos’ eldest son.155 Hippokrates, another son of Megakles (and namesake of Peisistratos’ father?),156 appears to have married Koisyra (II), the daughter of Peisistratos by Koisyra (I), the famous woman of Eretria, sometime between  and  ...157 This is close relationship indeed, and a period of probation preceding these events, extending into the s, must have elapsed.Thus, the Alkmeonid exile seems to have been rather brief. By the mid-s,the opposition between the Peisistratidai and the Alkmeonidai—if indeed there was ever such opposition, as we read in Herodotos—was forgotten.At least it did not obstruct collaboration and intermarriage.Whatever measures were taken by Peisistratos after Palle– ne– must have been calculated to consolidate Peisistratos’ position.They are unlikely to have been excessive, since they would have instilled a sense of insecurity among the Athenians and lost Peisistratos favor and the reputation for good rule.158 They would also have surfaced somewhere in the

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climate of antityrannism at Athens.As it is, we hear nothing of his excessive score settling or really of anything evil after Palle– ne– .159 Herodotos’ statement that the Alkmeonidai went into exile after Palle– ne– is itself open to doubt. Indeed, the Alkmeonidai appear to have concocted their self-imposed “perpetual” exile from the tyranny in order to bolster their image as tyrant haters.160 Peisistratos had really nothing to fear from the Alkmeonidai once he had returned to Athens, for it was impossible for them to continue to oppose him in view of his victory and newly amassed resources, which must have outstripped theirs. If the de– mos’ allegiance was secured by chre– mata—and the Alkmeonidai had shown the way to control the de– mos—they had now been undone by Peisistratos from their constituency. Moreover, the tyrant connection to which the younger Alkibiades points with such apparent pride in the early fourth century ... seems to have been marriage between Megakles’son Hippokrates and Peisistratos’ daughter Koisyra.161 This could be taken to indicate either that the Alkmeonidai did not oppose Peisistratos as vehemently as Herodotos says they did or that, if they did oppose him, they made their peace quite soon afterward. Certainly, their tie to the tyrants by marriage suggests that the Alkmeonidai acted to make up with Peisistratos, thus, serving a “probation.” The traditions of “perpetual” Alkmeonid exile after Palle– ne– and perpetual opposition to the tyranny are completely false in any case and undoubtedly evolved to baffle recollections of the Alkmeonids’ historical record of cooperation with the Peisistratids. . Summary From the nature of the expedition north, it appears that Peisistratos’ strategy of return, a strategy that came to fruition in the campaign leading to Palle– ne– , was in place from the time that Peisistratos set out for Thrace. In fact, Peisistratos’ “second coming” with Phye could be taken as an indication that his resolve to remain tyrant of Athens was set from then at least. Chre– mata and men would lead to victory and a firm footing for the tyranny: it is the collection of resources after all, not the battle, that is stressed repeatedly by Herodotos.These resources were obtained partially in Thrace and partially from subscriptions taken by the tyrant on Euboia. What is remarkable in all of this is Peisistratos’ dedication to return to Athens and to tyranny. Ambition and greed would seem to be the primary driving forces, although political vanity is not to be excluded. (It

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goes without saying that political personages with outsized confidence, egotism, and ambition make state and self-aggrandizement identical.) We need not think, however influenced we might be by Thucydides’ characterization of Archaic Greek tyrants and their motives, that greed and ambition were completely unbridled. Rather, the historian says (.) that such tyrants were looking to their needs and those of their households, and he says this with obvious reference to the Peisistratids.162 Peisistratos must have been driven over the course of his exile by,among other things, the vision of what Athens could be for himself but also for the Athenians. A parallel course is in fact charted in the rooted tyranny. What benefited the Peisistratids was extended to benefit the Athenians, especially economically. It is this kind of partnership between the de– mos and its leaders, one depicted as early as the poems of Solon, that Peisistratos institutionalized, and in fact it carried over into the democracy.163

V

Summary `

.          “    ”    A. Fame and Popularity Nisaia was the pivotal moment in Peisistratos’ early career; Palle– ne– established the tyranny for several decades. Success in the Megarian war earned Peisistratos popularity first among the fighters in the field and then more generally among the Athenians.A slight index of the potency of the victory and what it produced for Peisistratos is the fact that the memory of it survived even in the antityrannical climate of Athens in the fifth century ... The magnitude of Peisistratos’ war deeds was great indeed. The victory at Nisaia, apparently the final blow to the Megarians, ensured Athens’ ascendance in the Saronic Gulf, its permanent dominion over both Eleusis and Salamis, and its security against the Megarians. Phaleron was safe from Megarian attack by sea and the Kephissian Plain and Athens itself from land attack. Peisistratos thus brought to a close the one hundred years of war with Megara and so demolished the barriers to Athenian expansion.Victory in the war also avenged the outrage of Kylon’s occupation of the akropolis with Megarian troops. The Athenians of the early sixth century were surely enormously grateful to Peisistratos for ending the war in Athens’ favor. Peisistratos’ success indicates in fact that by the end of the war he had become Athens’ most outstanding war leader. The operation leading to Nisaia implies concerted strategy,while the action itself implies developed 



, ,  

tactics.These, too, are apparently to be credited to Peisistratos. Corroborating evidence of Peisistratos as strategist and tactician is to be found in the record of the Palle– ne– campaign; it is implicit in his command as strate– gos in the war against Megara. Peisistratos seems to have grasped that the desired outcome in the war could only come about gradually,after preliminary steps had been taken and preliminary battles fought and won.The same held true for his return to the tyranny. For that, Peisistratos prepared for almost a decade, mustering the overwhelming force he needed to deliver the final blow to his opponents and to establish the tyranny once for all. He also understood that military force alone would not be sufficient on its own and so accumulated chre– mata to “root” his tyranny. Peisistratos’ sojourn first to Rhaike– los and then to the area of Mount Pangaion, famous for its precious metal mines,were necessary steps to acquiring the resources needed for the successful outcome of the campaign. It was only after Peisistratos had patiently bided at Eretria, collecting more and more chre– mata from his allies and assembling ever increasing numbers of warriors for his army, that he struck at Athens.The result of his measures was the quick and apparently easy victory at Palle– ne– . (As we have seen, there is reason to think that such strategy led up to Nisaia.) Like all strate– goi of the time, Peisistratos will have led from the front. In fact, given his experiences and successes, he must have been rather a skilled warrior. Certainly, the Thracian enterprise suggests protracted fighting and hard fighting at that in the Strymon region. Peisistratos was undoubtedly the center of cohesion for his enterprise, the sole purpose of which was to further his ambitions to return to Athens as tyrant.The Thracian sojourn was a long one, and we must imagine years of tough fighting amid the fierce Thracians who guarded their interests around Mount Pangaion. It is also reasonable to think that whatever group he had with him there became hardened, even as he did. By the time they arrived at Palle– ne– , Peisistratos and his philoi were probably at a fighting peak. Whatever his military career in the north, it was the Megarian war that earned Peisistratos fame and popularity among the Athenians. He had defeated an inveterate enemy in a great patriotic war, and his successes substantiated his claims of Neleid descent. (These I have urged he put forth himself as part of a campaign first for war leadership and then for the tyranny.) The myths were not only corroborated by victory over the Megarians but implied further success and security under Peisistratos’ leadership. It seems reasonably certain that Peisistratos knew well the value of drawing such links to the heroic age even at the earliest stage of his pub-

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lic career. Solon observes that the Athenians would listen gaping to seductive speakers and foolishly be won over by them. In introducing the Neleid link,Peisistratos was doing no more than employing myths to convince the Athenians of his worth and right to govern them. Of course, had there not been a Megarian war or had some other competent and ambitious strate– gos emerged from among the city men or others to lead the Athenians successfully against the Megarians, there would have been no opening for Peisistratos to exploit. In fact, there very likely would have been no tyranny, since fame leading to popularity appears to have been a sine qua non for that and since the two squabbling leaders, Megakles and Lykourgos, might very well have coped with a different upstart. (This, or something much like it, seems to have happened in the case of Damasias.) Peisistratos’ good fortune in the war became his real springboard for the tyranny when he finally entered the political arena at Athens, even as Herodotos implies.The popularity he garnered from the Megarian war successes is to be gauged both directly and indirectly. Herodotos says that Peisistratos’“great deeds”and the capture of Nisaia were high in the minds of the Athenians when they voted him the korune– phoroi and so the means to establish a tyranny.That popularity must also account for the prolonged quietude of the Athenians after Palle– ne– , for they could have acted thereafter to oust the tyrant had they so desired. In fact, there is no hint of rebellion or even restiveness during these subsequent years and really none until near the very end of his tyranny. (In fact, serious trouble only began to develop during the later regime.) Fame engendering popularity among the Athenians may actually have been the goad for Peisistratos to aspire to the tyranny.It was clearly something the wily Megakles could not undo or cope with, and it forced him to recognize Peisistratos as a political force and to find temporary accord with him. It was an indispensable ingredient in the tyranny’s longevity.

B. Chre–mata and Persuasion When Peisistratos entered the political fray at Athens, he learned quickly, but more emphatically over time, that popularity by itself was not enough to see him into the tyranny, let alone keep him there. As Solon so clearly portrays, chre– mata was the necessary ingredient for political success in the city and to obtain and sustain governance. His poems reveal that the crisis in his day was precipitated by those Athenians who wanted chre– mata. Political speakers promised it to the de– mos one way or another,owing their



, ,  

temporary success to the de– mos’susceptibility to such promises.Even Solon promised the de– mos gain, but in its view he did not follow through on that promise. Solon’s political eclipse followed, part of the evidence for which are the apologies he made to the de– mos once again in his poems.Tradition holds that Solon left Athens immediately after his special commission, a departure at least alluding to the end of his political leadership there. Of the two politicians we know of on the scene and operating before the arrival of Peisistratos, Megakles, the son of Alkmeon, possessed a significant store of chre– mata.The Alkmeonidai, who were exiled for their part in the Kylonian slaughter for their blood connection to those who were, returned to Athens, and we find Megakles holding a position of power apparently as leader of the de– mos. Presumably, the wealth for which Alkmeon was famous, which he had gotten somehow, was the cause of both. Megakles must have used some of his wealth to influence the de– mos, dispensing it as needed. Megakles’ success fits into the picture Solon describes: the de– mos, lacking scruples, accepted the Alkmeonidai back to Athens, installed one of them as its leader, and even protected that leader from his enemies—that is, as long as he continued to distribute his wealth. It was this Megakles who, acting behind the scenes, facilitated Peisistratos’ first and second tyrannies. It was he who provided the necessary underwriting to sway the de– mos to his and Peisistratos’ common purposes then. Megakles learned in the meantime, if he did not already know, that he was barred from monarchy because of his family’s taint but also because he lacked anything like the conspicuous military record of Peisistratos. In fact, while Megakles possessed ambition, political ability, and chre– mata, he lacked the essential ingredient of fame leading to popularity. Megakles’ role is in any case muted in Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise to power. Presumably the tradition passed on to Herodotos about him made it appear that way. Megakles’ influence with the de– mos was real in any case, and it must have been owed to something.That influence was indispensable for Peisistratos to take and hold the tyranny. Just how significant a political figure Megakles was is indicated by the fluidity of Peisistratos’ first two tyrannies. It is explicitly stated in Herodotos that Megakles’ backing was vital to Peisistratos’ second bid for the tyranny and that lack of it ended the second tyranny. Herodotos also says that Megakles united with Lykourgos to oust Peisistratos from his first tyranny. Obviously, the backing of this Alkmeonid was essential for making or breaking Peisistratos’ earlier

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tyrannies.When Megakles swung back to Peisistratos after the latter’s first ouster, however, proposing a second tyranny, his opponent Lykourgos was powerless to stop him. From the implications of this evidence, it must be assumed that Megakles was also key to Peisistratos’ first tyranny, although nothing of this is stated explicitly in Herodotos’ text or anywhere else. Megakles was politically most powerful at the time of Peisistratos’first two tyrannies, but he was barred from ruling Athens outright. His sponsorship of and hostility toward Peisistratos by turns spelled success or failure for the tyrant and temporary allies such as Lykourgos. Peisistratos’ weakness in the face of Megakles’ superior power and its basis in chre– mata is confirmed by Peisistratos’ actions subsequent to his exile from Attika. Peisistratos’ primary aim in exile in Thrace was to accumulate wealth in abundance. And this he did in a variety of ways, not merely to return to Athens but to root the tyranny as well. Herodotos’ use of the unusual word ejrrivzwse (“rooted”) in his account of Peisistratos’rise is telling,for it hallmarks the beginning and end of the tyranny’s transitoriness (cf. .. and ..). It further emphasizes what Peisistratos managed to do because of his victory over the Athenians at Palle– ne– and (so) what he could not do before that, obviously because of Megakles and his chre– mata. It is clear from the circumscribed amount of chre– mata that remained after the battle, however, that Peisistratos would have to locate other sources of wealth by which continuously to enrich the appetitive Athenians. In fact, chre– mata can only have figured in Peisistratos’ last tyranny, as it had in Athenian politics from at least the time of Solon. Peisistratos’ lasting tyranny did not solely depend on Palle– ne– or even the war chest he had with him when he arrived in Attika from Eretria. (It certainly did not depend on a permanent foreign mercenary force, which oppressed the Athenians.This would have been ineffective, and there is no sign whatsoever of its existence in any case.) Rather, Peisistratos’ final tyranny depended on his ability to locate and exploit ongoing sources of wealth with which to enrich the Athenians over time. It was this partnership between the de– mos and him (and then his successors), really an economic and political symbiosis, that kept the tyranny going. As before (and even as later during the democracy) enrichment of the Athenians was the key to power over them. Hippias, the son of Peisistratos, failed to maintain popularity among the Athenians surely in part because he lost the resources Peisistratos had secured. Subsequently, Hippias lost the tyranny.



, ,  

C. Power Begetting Power Success, especially if sustained, will generate adherency, especially if the success is shared. Peisistratos’ appearance at Palle– ne– in force drew fresh recruits from outside of the Athenian pale but from within it as well. From the perspective of these defectors, Peisistratos’ triumph must have seemed guaranteed: their own well-being depended on their political sensibilities. Herodotos’ very brief description of the battle makes it seem as if the game was up for those opposing Peisistratos even before the battle began. While the size and quality of the forces that opposed the men of the city must have had much to do with the erosion of morale, Peisistratos’ earlier battle successes, stretching back to the Megarian war (and perhaps beyond that),would also have contributed.It is reasonable to think that that which underpins Herodotos’ account of the tyrant’s rise, divine sponsorship, came about in the minds of the Athenians at least in part because of Palle– ne– and the apparently easy victory Peisistratos achieved there. Peisistratos seems to have recognized that success builds on itself as he went about collecting the resources he needed to ensure his victory, the reestablishment of his tyranny, and its permanence.Actually, even from the little Herodotos and AP supply, it is clear that Peisistratos pursued an incremental strategy, which would lead to Palle– ne– and then to consolidation of his position in the aftermath of the battle. Presumably, word of his doings in the north, but certainly his marshaling of forces at Eretria and then at Marathon, came to the ears of the Athenians. This incremental strategy appears similar to that implied by the action at Nisaia and the “great deeds” Herodotos mentions. The way to overcome the Megarians once and for all was first to secure Athens’ possessions in the forward areas of the war zone and then, using them as bases, to launch attacks at the enemy heartland. Similarly, before Palle– ne– , Eretria was secured as Peisistratos’ first forward base, then Marathon. Palle– ne– then seems to have become that, as Peisistratos also encamped there, receiving even more defectors.The care taken in strategizing and what it produced provided a further advertisement to the men of the city of Peisistratos’ abilities, the consciousness about which was undoubtedly never completely absent from their minds. Thoughtfully conceived and well executed, Peisistratos’ strategy outdid that of any leader or commander on the other side. Even from what little Herodotos supplies of the campaign leading up to the battle and the battle itself, the Athenians were out of their depth.They had neither the warriors nor the commanders to resist

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Peisistratos and his forces.We need not doubt that overawing the Athenians was also part of Peisistratos’ strategy. (The Phye pageant was meant to remind the Athenians of Athena’s favoring of Peisistratos after all.) The rout at Palle– ne– allowed Peisistratos to become tyrant again, but the way the battle was won must have convinced many Athenians that Peisistratos’ successes would continue. Had they not known it earlier, they now knew that cooperation was the best, indeed the only real option left to them. Of course, Peisistratos made that choice easier by reassuring the routed Athenians, telling them to disperse to their homes. This “gentle wooing” hints at the possibility that Peisistratos utilized his war chest at the time to quieten the restive or reward the quiescent before and after Palle– ne– , confirming by payment that the quiet and cooperative had made or were making the right choices. And, indeed, Peisistratos had not defeated the Athenians more than he had his political foes, who had, he could say, misled the people into opposing him. Even these, we find, came over to Peisistratos in due course.The Athenians themselves, the “swing” group that marched out to Palle– ne– but, on appearances, ran home (if they did not defect), must have accepted Peisistratos’ rule more easily because of what he had done, what he was doing, and what he could do.The acceptance was prompted by Peisistratos’ fortunate past history, his present action, his larger than life image, and his promises, all of which augured positively for the future. The power that established the tyranny for the last time and kept it for nearly two decades was based on the demonstration of power before and at Palle– ne– . It was not the naked power of oppressive force—the battle was over quickly and there was no occupying force of mercenary bodyguards to remind the Athenians of their oppression. Rather it was the power of further success and gain. That is, after all, what the Athenians wanted, and that is what Peisistratos seemed capable of providing.While we may accept that the Athenians acquiesced to Peisistratos’ rule in part because he had demonstrated superiority in war, in intellect, and presumably in governance, we must also rule in the persuasive force that his good fortune created in them. What was his could be, at least partly, theirs.The embellishment of divine sponsorship in Herodotos’ account notwithstanding, Peisistratos must have seemed a “blessed” man to the Athenians. He appears to have been astute enough to realize that he could not maintain his tyranny merely by guarding his own interests and prerogatives. Rather he must “order up the banquet,” as Solon would have it, if he was to keep hold of the tyranny. For that sharing, because



, ,  

he continued the offices and elections and so did not disrupt traditional government, and most of all because he would continue to react to the de– mos and its wishes, he was in essence a democratic tyrant. And this was not necessarily by design or temperament but rather due to political necessity. It was the Athenians who made the conditions for ruling them; Peisistratos simply met them.

 .          -                A. The Formula for Leadership The line between legitimate rule and tyranny is, with allowances made for those whose regard for these concepts is more microscopic, sometimes little more than that between pride and more pride, ambition and further ambition, between the discharge of power cloaked with a conventional sense of propriety and restraint and the unconventional or perhaps simply less proper discharge of power. It is quite possibly the line between the restrained and the rash.Tyrants were of course mostly the latter. On the evidence,Peisistratos’tyranny walked along and about that line. He was labeled a “tyrant” but apparently did nothing to earn a charge of transgressing the laws. The image we have of Peisistratos is of one who was regarded by his contemporaries as possessing outstanding talents and abilities. I have argued that Peisistratos could not have maintained his tyranny, however those talents may have been regarded by the Athenians of his time, unless the Athenians consented. Even had he possessed the largest coercive force feasible with which to force the Athenians to compliance, he would not have been able to withstand the opposition of the Athenians to his rule, even as Kylon had not before him and Isagoras would not after him.1 He had located the political means to sustain governance, employed it, and then passed it along to his sons; these, in turn, did so as models of sorts to the leaders of early democratic Athens. Peisistratos’ formula for political success is reflected in Athenian history in the sixth and fifth centuries. It included the demonstration of military ability, which earned, as a concomitant, fame and popularity; the distribution of chre– mata or at least the establishment of means for enrichment;and, along with an ability to communicate, promise, and persuade, really a sine qua non for all aspiring leaders at Athens from at least the time of Solon, an outstanding public presence. Power of course begat power, since one

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who had it could do much more than one who did not. In fact, this formula designates Peisistratos the prototype for leadership of the Athenians, and we find reflections of him in the luminaries of the early democracy.

B. Patterns of Tyrannical Behavior among Early Democratic Athenian Leaders It might seem, at first, surprising that democratic leaders of Athens would follow the pattern of leadership set by the tyrants of the sixth century. In fact, because the tyranny at Athens was popularly and democratically based, they really could not do otherwise.The aims of these leaders were no different from those of Peisistratos: they, too, desired political primacy among competitors and governance of Athens.As Peisistratos had done, they sought to attain and continue primacy by demonstrating success in war, by obtaining wealth or sources of wealth that they and the de– mos could tap into, and of course by cultivating their images as outstanding men among their peers. Information is incomplete on any one of these early democratic leaders, but the evidence, taken altogether, illustrates parallels. Those democratic politicians who had ties to the Peisistratids offer perhaps the clearest and best examples of continuity: their adoption of the formula seems quite logical. Miltiades (IV), the son of Kimon koalemos, was himself tyrant of the Chersone– se. He was acquitted of the charges of tyranny brought against him when he returned to Athens apparently because the Athenians realized that they needed him as leader in the impending war with Persia. Miltiades then attained temporary preeminence as a democratic leader.2 He did this first in the field, being credited with the victory at Marathon. His success there won him instant popularity, in no small part because the Athenians had escaped a very great peril. So popular was Miltiades that he was able to embark on the next portion of the formula, obtaining wealth for the Athenians, in a remarkable way. He demanded and got from the Athenians the means to conduct a campaign on their behalf simply on the promise that he would make them rich.3 However, when Miltiades failed to reduce Paros (probably as a prelude to attacking Thasos and so acquiring its mines on the mainland),he was prosecuted by his enemies back in Athens and fined on the grounds that he had deceived the de– mos. In fact, Miltiades’ downfall was based on the fact that he had failed to gain wealth for the Athenians, the indispensable follow-up needed to retain power at Athens.4

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, ,  

There can be no mistake: Miltiades did not set out for Paros merely to pillage. His promise was to enrich the Athenians, not himself, and he was following up to consolidate his position. Like Nisaia for Peisistratos, Marathon earned for Miltiades exalted standing as a successful military commander. (One can only imagine the great relief and thankfulness to Miltiades the Athenians felt at the defeat of the Persians.) Yet, Miltiades must have known, as Peisistratos came to know, that military success alone would not be enough over the long run. It is not impossible that Miltiades, who had been tyrant in the Chersone– se, was aiming to make himself tyrant of the Athenians, just as Peisistratos had. Of course, failure at Paros ruined any chances of that and made him prey to enemies who exploited his weakness. Convicted of deception (apate–), Miltiades incurred a huge fine. He died in prison from a wound suffered in action at Paros.5 Kimon, Miltiades’ son, earned great popularity for his military successes. He was in fact, the architect of the Athenian empire, and that, of course, spread gain among the Athenian de– mos.Apparently following his father’s plan, it was Kimon who after the Persian wars returned to the lower Strymon area, not far from Mount Pangaion and the Thasian mines, taking Eion from its Persian governor. Not only did Kimon bestow the extremely fertile and felicitously situated land around Eion upon the Athenians, but he helped further to secure it for Athens by taking Skyros.6 Moreover, Kimon returned the entire Thracian Chersone– se to the Athenians to colonize.7 Like his father and Peisistratos before him, Kimon located sources of enrichment for the Athenians. He transformed military conquest,which built and maintained his reputation,into political gain by making over his conquests to the Athenians.To increase his political popularity among the Athenian voters, Kimon employed part of his share of booty from the Delian League expeditions to finance the fleet, which is to say, to pay the Athenian rowers, perhaps the largest voting bloc in the early democracy.8 Like his father, Kimon fell out of favor with the de– mos because of military failure.The Athenians were indignant with him because of the way the Spartans had dismissed them during the Helot revolt.9 Kimon’s formula for political preeminence after the Persian wars was similar to Peisistratos’ and Miltiades’. Military victory led to enhanced standing and the further possibility of victory, with each victory further enhancing Kimon’s status among the de– mos. To curry favor with the Athenians, Kimon transferred his conquests to the Athenians. Some of these involved colonization and so land apportionment for Athenians,

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some straight pay as wages for the Athenian fleet rowers. Kimon’s popularity began with his victories, but he maintained his power by seeing to the steady enrichment of the Athenian de– mos. There are in fact several other points of contact between Kimon and the tyrants.We read in Plutarch’s Life of Kimon that he was a retainer of poets, grateful advertisers it appears of Kimon’s exploits and talents. Melanthios described Kimon’s “conquests” of Mnestra and Asteria in verse, and Archelaos seems to have composed an elegy on the death of Kimon’s wife, Isodike: these were perhaps trivial verses, but they are reminiscent of the erotic poetry of tyrants and of tyrant patronage of poets.10 (It is reasonable to think that Kimon employed these also to glorify his military conquests, albeit in perhaps a muted fashion.)11 More pertinent to the emulation, perhaps, are the Eion inscriptions, which, though they did not specifically name Kimon as victor there, surely reminded the Athenians of what they well knew. They were, of course, decreed by the assembly and are heroic in tone.12 Of course, the transference of the “bones of Theseus” after Kimon’s conquest of Skyros earned very great acclaim from the Athenians and brought together the images of Kimon and the Bronze Age hero for the Athenians. (As we have witnessed, this seems to have been Peisistratos’ aim in publicizing his Neleid ancestry: it was part of “selling” himself to the Athenians.)13 Like the tyrants, Kimon used the proceeds that he acquired on campaign to embellish Athens and win over the Athenians with public works projects. He seems to have focused much attention on the Akademe, a place particularly associated with Hipparchos, the son of Peisistratos.14 Although Themistokles, the consummate politician of the early democracy, could not rival Kimon in military accomplishments, he was certainly associated with the defeat of the Persians.There are other similarities to Kimon and the tyrants detectable in information about him. Themistokles was famously associated with the poet Simonides, who had been patronized by Hipparchos.15 Simonides celebrated Themistokles’ reconstruction of the Lykomid shrine at Phlya. He also figured prominently in Simonides’ “The Sea Fight at Salamis,” reckoned apparently a hero and architect of the victory.16 Like Kimon,Themistokles associated himself with famous musicians. He patronized the famous kitharist, Epikles of Hermione– .17 Themistokles’ stint as “water commissioner,” restoring the efficient delivery of water to the Athenians, recalls Peisistratos’ own benefaction of Enneakrounos.18 Of course, Themistokles’ career was at its zenith just after Salamis, a victory that Herodotos says the

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, ,  

Greeks most credited to him.19 He, too, sought means to enrich the Athenians, but his enemies were able to undermine his position and force him to flee from Athens. The last great Athenian politician of the first of half of the fifth century was, of course, Perikles, the son of Xanthippos, sometimes called the “new Peisistratos” by the comic poets. He may well have been the most “tyrannical” of the early democratic leaders of Athens.20 Apparently a conventional military man himself, Perikles nevertheless seems to have most distinguished himself in the combination crisis of the mid–fifth century ..., when it appeared that Athens would lose its empire altogether.21 Earlier, he had campaigned and established a reputation as a courageous soldier at Tanagra.22 Thereafter, Perikles became the architect of Athens’stepped-up imperialism,dispatching several kle– rouchies after the mid–fifth century. These were certain ways to win popularity and political support among those dispatched but also among those at home who were advocating a stronger empire.23 Of course, Perikles was perhaps the most scrupulous of all Athenian politicians in nurturing his public image: Plutarch states that Perikles took pains to keep himself from what modern publicists would call “overexposure.”24 Thus, he cultivated his famous “Olympian” aloofness, obviously for political purposes. His other tyrantlike measures included the building of the famous music pavilion, the Odeion, and of course the Athena parthenos structure on the akropolis, which earned him great favor and popularity among the Athenians. Their construction supplied wages for many Athenians. While it was the comic poets of Athens who called Perikles the “new Peisistratos,” his family was in fact connected with the tyrants and it is very possible even likely, that Perikles was descended from Peisistratos himself.25 It is quite on the cards that the charge the comic poets made contained more substance than is actually conveyed by such as Plutarch. Indeed, it seems more than coincidental that Thucydides describes Perikles as the “first man” of Athens and the Periklean era as democracy in theory but in actuality rule by the first man of the city (..).26 Peisistratos may have been the prototype for later democratic leaders of Athens, but he did not invent the political conditions prevailing in his day and even before in the time of Solon. Like the others, he was compelled to do what was demanded, and his success in adaptation recommended him as a model first to his sons and then to the democratic leaders of Athens. It is interesting to note, in this light, what Plutarch mentions about Themistokles and his politics.27 He was a follower of Mnesiphilos,

Summary

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who was a teacher of sophia, “political wisdom.” Sophia, according to Plutarch, was politics married to practicality and had been practiced and refined in succession from Solon’s time. Peisistratos was not the first but certainly the most successful of Athenian politicians of the sixth century. It is to be noted that Solon and Peisistratos were both renowned for being sophos (wise). The most significant office in the early democracy was that of strate– gos, a recognition of the importance of war leadership to the Athenians. It is that which became a springboard for both Peisistratos and the notable early democratic politicians of Athens;it seems to have at least contributed to Solon’s political ascendancy. Solon, however, failed to enrich the de– mos in accordance with its wishes; Peisistratos, too, failed in his first two attempts to sustain his place in politics because he lacked the means of its enrichment. Miltiades’ failure at Paros spelled his immediate political end. By the same token, Peisistratos was able to remain tyrant over a long period and Kimon and Perikles were able to maintain themselves as preeminent leaders of the Athenians for quite some time by managing to locate and exploit sources of wealth to benefit the Athenians. Where, then, is the line in politics to be drawn between the Peisistratid tyrants and the earlier democratic leaders of Athens? It is difficult to place, although we have seen that it is less distinct than it is clear-cut. In fact, the precise differences between the tyranny and the early democracy should be reevaluated and made the subject of other, closer studies. For, indeed, the tyrants and early democratic leaders were not at all polarized, as the Athenians of the fifth century would have us believe their democracy was and as we have believed it ourselves. It would be very good to ascertain exactly why political leaders of fifth-century Athenian democracy and sixth-century tyrants were apparently more similar in political expression than they were different. Both were reflections of their constituencies after all.

Appendices `

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The Site of the Attic Deme Philaïdai `

Philaïdai was proximate to the temple of Brauronian Artemis in eastern Attika, and the precinct of Artemis has long been identified just to the west of Brauron Bay (map , fig. ). To date, there has been no certain identification of Philaïdai for lack of conclusive material remains.Adding to the problem is the fact that the literary evidence about it is sparse and unhelpful.1 I visited the area of Brauron in spring  and summer , , and , specifically to locate and verify the deme site of Philaïdai. In addition to what little the literary evidence supplied and in lieu of documentary evidence, my criteria for location were: () proximity to the Artemis complex at Brauron, () sufficient signs of habitation during the pre-Classical and Classical periods, and () overall aptness of the site in view of conditions one assumes would have affected the choice of settlers in the Late Bronze and Dark Ages.(The latter criterion therefore included defensibility and both water and fertile land availability.)2 One such site presented itself first in the spring of , and subsequent visits there strengthened the identification. The literary evidence and some of the problems it entails will be set out before proceeding to discussion of the site I take to be Philaïdai. It is necessary first to confront the question of synonymity: were Brauron and Philaïdai actually the same place? Plutarch says that Philaïdai was the home deme of the Peisistratidai, and he affiliates it with Brauron (Sol. .).3 The relationship of Philaïdai and Brauron is also depicted in the scholion for Ar. Aves :“The Myrrhinousians name Artemis ‘Kolainis,’ 

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just as the people of the Peiraios [call her] ‘Mounichia’ and the people of Philaïdai [call her] ‘Brauronia.’”4 This evidence makes the two, Brauron and Philaïdai, apparently distinct but closely connected. Such a connection could account for the relative lack of evidence about Philaïdai, information about which became subsumed within or occluded by “Brauron.” Certainly, some modern scholars seem to have equated the two.5 According to Philochoros (FrGrHist , F ), an Atthidographer and otherwise creditable source for ancient Attic topography,Brauron was one of the twelve original Kekropid towns of Attika, the ancient Do– dekapoleis.6 Jacoby pointed out, however, that Philochoros’ designation of the twelve lacks basis and credibility in this instance: evidently the Atthidographer invented his list from those places he assumed to be most ancient in Attika.7 About three hundred years later, Strabo essentially repeated Philochoros’ list, including Brauron among coastal demes of Attika, while still later the Greek traveler Pausanias described Brauron as a “deme.”8 The Roman Pliny, in the first century C.E., before Pausanias, classed Brauron as an oppidum (town), and Pomponius Mela made it an urbs (city).9 All of these, including Strabo, undoubtedly followed an older Greek source that designated Brauron a polis, an asty, or a deme. Indeed, by the first century B.C.E., Brauron was desolate,“no more than a name.” Since the authors later than Philochoros generally agree about Brauron, it is reasonable to conclude that they followed the same or similar sources for Brauron. Inasmuch as Philochoros calls Brauron a polis, albeit obliquely, the ultimate source for these writers may well have been his Atthis. Although such testimony about Brauron (even from Philochoros) is flimsy, as we shall see, it has nevertheless been taken to indicate veritable political conditions in the time of Kleisthenes. Specifically, it is assumed that Brauron was politically the most important location in the region before Kleisthenes’ democratic reforms.10 That notion is contradicted, however, by the fact that not it but Philaïdai was designated the official deme of the region in the Kleisthenic arrangement.To explain the disagreement, Whitehead, for example, has argued that Kleisthenes went against his normal practice in designating demes by transferring political power to the lesser Philaïdai because of the Peisistratids’ famous ties to Brauron.11 Such a transference was part of Kleisthenes’ attempt to dissolve the Peisistratids’power base in the area and,along with it,any residue of regional political influence that the still at-large Peisistratids might con-

The Site of the Attic Deme Philaïdai



tinue to derive from their connection to “Brauron.” Kleisthenes’ aim was to consolidate his new political arrangement and so the democracy by eliminating the Peisistratids from the new order.12 Whitehead’s explanation seems oddly reasoned in view of the evidence, and it creates many more problems than it solves, not only with regard to Kleisthenes’ practice in designating de– mes but also to Peisistratid links in the region. First, the name Brauron and any notional connection it had with the Peisistratids not only survived Kleisthenes’ alleged attempt to disjoin it from the tyrants but actually remained prominent in democratic Athens. This prominence was assured because of the cult of Artemis Brauronia, which the Peisistratidai imported to Athens from eastern Attika to have established on the akropolis at Athens.13 Every four years thereafter (and perhaps even annually), a religious procession set out from Athens to the precinct of Artemis at Brauron.14 From all indications, from the time of its establishment at Athens in the time of the Peisisitratids perhaps to the early third century B.C.E. when the precinct was apparently catastrophically inundated by a flood from the Erasinos, the cult appears to have been thoroughly implicated with Athens, no less than Eleusis and the Mysteries. Despite the Peisistratids’ introduction of it, the cult itself, though perhaps strongly reminiscent of the tyrants, remained entrenched among the Athenians and flourished during the years of the democracy. The implications seem clear enough. Had Kleisthenes attempted to diminish Brauron’s political importance, he would have run the risk not only of antagonizing Athenian worshipers of Brauronian Artemis needlessly, and so of weakening his own political backing, but he would also have thrown away a good chance to dissolve Peisistratid influence precisely by including “Brauron” in his own political master plan.15 If Brauron was in fact the most important site in that area of eastern Attika, it would have served Kleisthenes to have co-opted it into his arrangement, not demoted it, thus acquiring his own, new connection with it and displacing the Peisistratid one. He did not do that, and, as we shall see for other reasons, Brauron was not likely to have been more important politically than Philaïdai. The Peisistratids and their habitation were clearly not identified with Brauron, as Whitehead assumes, but with Philaïdai, as Plutarch’s testimony indicates.16 Such an association could hardly have been invented nor would it have surfaced later if the Peisistratidai were connected instead to Brauron.Thus, if Kleisthenes were motivated to diminish Peisistratid in-

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fluence, he would have accomplished the very opposite of his intention, as Whitehead sees it, by designating Philaïdai the important deme of the vicinity.Yet that is exactly what he did. It is far more reasonable to think that when Kleisthenes designated Philaïdai the deme of the region, he was simply observing its importance. It does no good to reason that either Brauron or Philaïdai were incorporated by the reformer as a way to weaken the exiled Peisistratidai, since that was not Kleisthenes’ plan.When the Peisistratids were first banished from Athens in  B.C.E., they were not yet held in execration. Rather, the conduct of Hippias and those with him at the Persian court after their expulsion, exciting the Persians to attack Athens in order to regain their power and settle old scores in  B.C.E., earned them the condemnation of the ste– le– adikias and general execration.17 (It is noteworthy that, although the diakria seems to have supported Peisistratos in  [at least obliquely], it did not rise with Hippias  B.C.E.)18 Kleisthenes simply had no good reason in  B.C.E. to veer away from his normal practice of recognizing important demes in the way Whitehead imagines, but he had several good reasons to adhere to it in this case.The conclusion seems to me unavoidable that Kleisthenes designated Philaïdai as deme of the region precisely because it was politically the most important deme in the region.19 The archaeology and topography of Brauron and the presumed site of Philaïdai support the assumptions that Philaïdai and Brauron were not one and the same thing, that Philaïdai was the more considerable settlement, and that it was thus the most significant deme in the region in the pre-Classical and Classical periods. First of all, there is no archaeological indication of habitation near the sanctuary of Artemis dating to the Classical period or really after LH IIIB.20 This makes a great deal of sense, for, apart from the “akropolis” of Brauron, a rocky outcrop rising from the sanctuary, and the sacred spring as a source of water, the area around the sanctuary has no natural advantages. However, as we shall see, there are both natural advantages and substantial indications of habitation at the proposed site of Philaïdai. Brauron’s site had little to recommend it to settlers. The Erasinos periodically flooded the low ground near its outlet around the sanctuary and did so finally and disastrously it seems near the beginning of the third century B.C.E.21 Apart from chronic destruction due to flood, there existed the perpetual nemesis of malaria in the marshy land near the sanctuary of Artemis. Moreover, the flatland of the lower Erasinos is unpro-

The Site of the Attic Deme Philaïdai

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tected and essentially indefensible, especially to attack by sea.The myth of the “Lemnian Deeds,” which recounts a seaborne raid at Brauron, suggests that the coast was actually prey to such raids during the Bronze Age and that there was no defense against them at Brauron.22 Defense must have been a consideration, especially for the late Bronze Age Mycenaeans and early Dark Age inhabitants of the area.As we shall presently see, Philaïdai was fairly well situated for defense, especially from attack by sea.23 Philaios, from whom the deme derived its name, is said to have immigrated to eastern Attika in the late Bronze Age, a myth that, though not to be taken as a historical record, is corroborated to some extent by the archaeological remains in the region (see chapter II..B).The name Philaios itself thus has a connection to Late Bronze Age migration to the area; Brauron does not figure in the myth. Maintenance of the ancient cult of Artemis at Brauron, however, implies the survival of at least some adherents in the vicinity through the Dark Ages, and it is reasonable to expect that they lived in the area near the sanctuary. Of course, the inhabitants of Philaïdai, Peisistratids and others, claimed seemingly credible links to the Late Bronze Age settlers of Attika; a special tie between Philaïdai and the Artemis cult at Brauron is attested in the scholion ad Ar. Aves ; and, of course, the Peisistratids’ appear to have imported the cult of Brauronian Artemis to Athens.24 The scholion ad Ar. Aves  supports the implication of Brauron and Philaïdai but also their distinction. Because Brauron was later more famous than Philaïdai, later writers, following the lead of Philochoros perhaps, made it a deme or a polis (oppidum) when in fact it was never that.The erroneous description may have been based on coupling Brauron’s religious and political significance, on a misunderstanding of Philochoros’ description of it as a polis, or, quite possibly, on some confusion based on the implication of Brauron and Philaïdai. Indeed, the fact that Brauron named (and still names) the district may have transformed it into deme and occluded Philaïdai, especially for later writers, when by the third century B.C.E. both were really “no more than names.”25 There are further reasons to support the notion that, in Kleisthenes’ time, Philaïdai was politically more significant than Brauron. First, of course, the Kleisthenic arrangement itself.Apart from that, Philaïdai is socalled in Plutarch (after another Atthidographer?) and he and the author of the Hipparchos make it, not Brauron, the home of the Peisistratids.The link is surely to have derived ultimately from some authoritative source, perhaps even an inscription.26 It is to be noted that no ancient source

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makes Brauron the home deme of the tyrants. Finally, once again the evidence of the scholion ad Ar. Aves , itself likely derived from an Atthis, implies that the cult of Artemis at Brauron was controlled by Philaïdai not Brauron. This arrangement, which could not have been artificially imposed by Kleisthenes and his reorganization, seems to me to clinch the primacy of Philaïdai in the region both at the time and at least until the later fourth century B.C.E. Several locations have been suggested for the site of the deme of Philaïdai in the neighborhood of Brauron.The nineteenth-century traveler Colonel Leake placed it on a hillside immediately north of the Erasinos, where he claimed to have found “considerable vestiges of an ancient town”; Frazer, we have known since the excavations of Papadimitriou, mistakenly identified the theretofore unexcavated remains of the temple complex at Brauron as Philaïdai (map ).27 The temple site is certainly ruled out as the deme in the Classical period for reasons stated above; only very crude pottery sherds were to be found at Leake’s site.28 In the last century,Vanderpool, seconded by Traill, proposed an area nearer the remains of the early Christian basilica about a kilometer from the Artemis sanctuary, just to the north of the modern Markopoulo road (map ).29 Wesley Thompson, however, suggested that the ancient deme was to be located between the defunct village of Vraona and Palaio Vraona, a suggestion he thought was supported by the survival of the ancient name.30 Both sites were more reasonably proposed than the earlier ones of Leake and Frazer, but there are problems with each that disqualify them. Palaio Vraona—this obviously is not “Philaïdai”—is some distance from the Artemis complex, ca. – km, and the analogies of the scholion ad Ar. Aves  imply rather closer proximity. Frazer noted a “scantiness” of ancient remains at Vraona, and on a visit to the area in spring  I could find evidence of habitation no earlier than a Turkish period farm. The same held true for the area immediately adjacent to the Christian basilica. Only the merest vestiges of habitation were to be found in and around it, and these could be dated no earlier than the late Roman period.31 The hillside of the basilica is quite arid and completely exposed. Certainly neither of the sites offered remains to allow any dating before the Hellenistic period even on the discoveries of their proposers. In lieu of a deme decree or some other epigraphic document that could be found in situ, some other measurable pre-Hellenistic remains are needed to identify the site, especially since the deme and region seem to have been

The Site of the Attic Deme Philaïdai

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severely depopulated, if not abandoned altogether, by the middle of the third century B.C.E. If, in fact, Philaïdai was the home deme of the Peisistratidai and the Kleisthenic political center for the region, we should expect at least some Archaic and Classical pottery sherds on or quite near the site. On the other hand, a site much farther west than the basilica seems out of the question based on the connection between Brauron and Philaïdai that the scholion implies. In , Margaret Beck, under the direction of Dr. Steven Diamant, surveyed the area up from the Artemis sanctuary during several visits to the region. Beck’s important study remains the most thorough and comprehensive for the area, and her findings are quite significant. She discovered building blocks, roof tiles, and abundant pottery sherds spread over a site immediately south of the Markopoulo road, ca. . km west of the sea. She identified the location of the findings (Kipi [khpoi] [gardens]) as the site of Philaïdai (map ).32 Beck’s discoveries suggest major Classical habitation proximate to the sanctuary,and her identification seems to have been supported by Themelis, who noted taphoi on the flank of a hillock slightly to the northeast of Beck’s site (map ). In fact, as we shall see, Beck’s site (Kipi) extending to the taphoi, is probably a cemetery area for the main deme site.33 While Beck’s site conforms to the proximity indicated by the scholion and her findings indicate habitation, it conspicuously lacks natural advantages:“Flat fields lying between low hills to the north and south make up the topography of the site.”34 The coastline was vulnerable, and defense must have ranked high on the list of Late Bronze Age fugitives from the Peloponnesos or their hard-pressed Dark Age descendants.35 (I am assuming, of course, that the site of Philaïdai was settled no later than the tenth century B.C.E., the time of measurable cult activity at the Artemis sanctuary and indeed well before that.)36 Flat, open fields, visible from the sea, offer no defence and so no attraction for those trying to escape attack from there.37 A much better candidate for the main deme site is just northeast of Beck’s site behind and to the north of Themelis’ taphoi hillock and in back of the hill of the Christian basilica. It is the summit and flank of the westernmost spur of the hill “Agrielista” (map , fig. ). Surveying that site in , , , and , I discovered numerous remains strewn over it, including pottery sherds, marble fragments, and what appeared to be worked stones. Many of the pottery sherds were black glazed; others were unglazed. I found only one fragment of red painted ware.The sherds

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were of varying sizes and shapes (e.g., handle, foot, etc.), and most were found along the west flank.These pottery remains are certain indications of habitation in that area during the early Classical period at the very latest. Significantly, unlike Beck, I found no evidence of Megarian, Roman (Arretine), or Byzantine (green glazed or ribbed) ware during any of my visits. The lack makes sense if the deme was abandoned at roughly the same time as the sanctuary of Artemis, that is, during the very early Hellenistic period after the catastrophe inundating the temenos.38 Pieces of a roof tile and marble of Classical date were also discovered in the plowed ground south of the “akropolis” (fig. ). Perhaps the most significant finds were two fragments of an obviously chisel worked stone, very possibly a base of some kind (fig. ).These were found in separate spots but in the same general area some meters west of the west flank, where the pottery finds were densest. Inasmuch as the dimensions of the rectangular hollows aligned, the two pieces appear to have been one, and the whole piece together might have been set above ground as a footing for something like a ste– le– or a herm fixed into the hewn trough.39 The fragments were surely moved from their original position (as one assumes were most of the fragments of dressed stone blocks in the area), and that movement probably accounts for the original fracture, which made the one piece two, and for their deposit in separate places.The completing third piece was missing in . By spring , the fragments had been removed from their find spots of ; the “finished end” fragment was gone, and the surviving one had been moved again and further fractured. All had vanished by spring . Other pottery remains came to light in  because of tilling in the area.There is, however, little hope for the survival of these or other remains in view of the increasing population of the area and the hostility of Attic summer homeowners in the area to those finding and reporting ancient vestiges.40 The summit of the spur, a very modest “akropolis,” if that is what it was, while by no means formidable, is nevertheless defensible (fig. ). Its southern flank, that facing the likeliest direction of attack, is protected by a rise in elevation of ca.  m fronted by stones. Its northern flank is somewhat vulnerable,but a palisade of some kind higher up on Agrielista could compensate for its weakness.The akropolis would, with some improvement, have afforded reasonable protection for the few we expect lived there early on, especially against sudden sea attacks such as those attested for unprotected Brauron.The site is near the bottomland of the Erasinos and water sources; it is but a short walk from the Artemis temenos.41

The Site of the Attic Deme Philaïdai

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While this site communicates with the sea at Brauron by means of paths over or around the hills Kapsara (Kapsala?) and Agrielista, its most important defense might be its very location, which is veiled from the sea by hills. If we assume that the original inhabitants of Philaïdai were in fact Mycenaean fugitives or their Dark Age descendants, defense, especially from piratical sea raids, must have been a primary concern: there are comparanda from the same period to indicate that distance from the sea and defensibility were in fact determinants for settlement sites.42 The only real avenue of approach to the proposed deme site of Philaïdai coming from the sea would have been over the line of those hills or around them. Early warning, however, was possible with lookouts posted on the hills.Attackers would have to charge uphill or would be subject to flank attack if they went around Kapsara before they reached Philaïdai. (Flank attack is, of course, the defensive principle of the Lion Gate Bastion at Mycenae.) The site I have proposed for the Attic deme of Philaïdai fits the criteria required by literary sources and archaeology and the other ones set at the beginning of this appendix.The site is quite close to the precinct of Brauronian Artemis and possesses abundant Classical vestiges, especially pottery sherds. Just northeast of the more vulnerable Beck site and apparent cemetery of khpoi on higher, more defensible ground and somewhat sheltered from the sea, it satisfies the implicit imperative of security; water is present, and arable land is near.43 From extensive surface surveying in the area more immediately adjacent to the sanctuary of Artemis at Brauron over a period of several years, I have located no other site that satisfies these criteria to the same degree. Of course, one always hopes to discover an inscription verifying the site of Philaïdai, but that would probably involve excavation there, especially since the current inhabitants of the area have, for many years now it seems, been industriously disposing of significant surface finds and anything that might adversely affect the condition of their precious cement summer homes.

 

The Environment of Eastern Attika in the Sixth Century B.C.E. ` . /   Apart from the little valley of the Erasinos, the land around Brauron does not appear inviting, especially at first.1 The bottomland of the valley, the most arable in the immediate area of ancient Philaïdai, is surrounded by mostly waterless, scrub-covered hills and extends only about  km westward from the temenos of Artemis (map , fig. ).2 The area round about the temenos could never have sustained many.3 At a point roughly where the modern Markopoulo road turns southward toward that town,the bottomland of the Erasinos gives way to soil more characteristic of the Attic mesogaia, which, rising farther west, the land of Brauron/Philaïdai becomes (cf. fig. ).4 In more recent times, the fields along the Erasinos have been intensively cultivated but above less and beyond sparsely with what appear to be hard-put vines and olive trees.5 In fact, until ca. , the land adjacent to the sanctuary, the hills and dales of Brauron/Philaïdai, was employed for nothing other than sheep pasturage. More recently, spurred by the construction of the new Athens airport and by the desire of middle-class Athenians to get away from the high heat of summer, this has given way to the unregulated development of summer homes in the area and all along the coast. Actually, the unspectacular landscape may have been exactly what attracted the Late Bronze Age fugitives to the area.The land’s otherwise unpromising character and the “out of the way” position of Brauron/ Philaïdai in eastern Attika made it less an objective for immigrant invaders than richer prospects elsewhere in Greece and even Attika. The site of 

Environment of Eastern Attika

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Philaïdai, just out of sight in back of the hills of the little Erasinos Valley, offered defense against attack by sea but could also have provided a measure of safety for assault by land. This marginal agricultural land might thus have been more than adequate for the purposes of the fugitives, who were trying to escape the attention of marauders. The land has more, albeit subtler, benefits, however.Those who dwell in the summer homes of the Philaïdai area, whose small gardens have proliferated proximate to their abodes, attest to the fact that their gardens’ yields are appreciable, thus belying the land’s apparent lack of fertility.6 (The produce that ancient gardens offered was probably supplemented by fishing and perhaps sheep tending.)7 Additionally, the locals also say that the site of Philaïdai is refreshed even in the high heat of the Attic summer by cool sea breezes.Thus, the late Mycenaean fugitives seem to have been cannier in settling near the Artemis sanctuary than one would imagine from a cursory appraisal of its environs. The region’s associations in antiquity further suggest its ancient productivity. Horses cannot be kept without adequate pasturage: they are expensive to keep.8 Yet the gentry of eastern Attika in the Archaic period and many of those from Philaïdai seem to have been much involved with horse culture and obviously discovered the means needed to support horses. Miltiades (III), a member of the Philaid genos and a neighbor of the Peisistratidai, was a victor in the four-horse chariot competition at Olympia; his half-brother, Kimon (I) koalemos, was three times an Olympic victor, and his team was such a source of pride and distinction that the horses were killed and buried with him when he died.9 Examples of human and horse inhumation are to be found elsewhere in northeastern Attika at Marathon and at Lefkandi on Euboia, which suggests that the practice of horse burial and, more generally, the veneration of horses might be traced to the region’s Mycenaeans and their descendants.10 Of course, male names in the generations before and after Peisistratos further reflect the ongoing involvement of the sixth-century inhabitants of Philaïdai with horse culture. Thus, although living in the region of Brauron/Philaïdai was surely not as easy as it was elsewhere in Greece, there were benefits because of the land’s relative mediocrity.Though unpromising, it was also unobtrusive for those who wanted to be unobtrusive settlers. It could sustain some few, apparently comfortably.Yet whatever opportunities of wealth it offered were circumscribed, and the same must be true of the whole of eastern Attika. The resources necessary for horse culture are most likely to

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            

have been derived outside the area and were likely acquired by other than agricultural means.

.   The most salient geographical feature of the region of Brauron/Philaïdai is its relation to the sea; the most important geopolitical one during the Archaic period had to have been its proximity to Euboia and inevitably its relationship with the Euboians.11 The “Hollows of Euboia,” that is, the Petalion and Euboic Gulfs, were busy sea lanes through the Dark Ages and grew busier still with the colonizations of Chalkis and Eretria beginning sometime before (perhaps even well before) the mid–eighth century B.C.E.12 Both cities obviously possessed considerable naval capability, and they used it to found colonies west in Italy and north in the Chalkidike– .13 Even when hostilities arose between Chalkis and Eretria, and, indeed, after the Lelantine war had been fought, the two cities remained important colonial powers.14 Euboian naval power, suggested by the problematic “Thalassocracy Lists” and their concomitant political influence, can only have been felt closer to home, in particular along the shores of the Hollows and at Brauron/Philaïdai.15 Of the two Euboian cities, Eretria seems always to have played a more prominent role in eastern Attika.As we have witnessed, the ties between the Eretrians and the Peisistratids were very close.We have noted that the names of some of the Peisistratidai (Hippokrates,Hippias,Hipparchos) are “horse” names, and these suggest that the genos was not a little interested in horses.16 Whether the Peisistratidai actually engaged in raising horses, they, like their neighbors, seem to have shared the pretensions (derived from Mycenaean forebears?) with their powerful neighbors the Eretrians. The rulers of Eretria in the Archaic Age were the called hippeis, the implications of which are clear enough.17 These “horsemen” were further renowned among the Archaic Greeks for their martial prowess and valor and because their own claimed forebears, the Homeric Abantes, were believed by the Greeks to be directly descended from the Achaians of Homer.18 The line of the Eretrians’ descent could have been continuous from the Late Bronze Age.19 Veneration of horses in the form of human and horse burial is confirmed by the heroön of Lefkandi, itself a kind of bridge between the Mycenaean past and the Geometric and Archaic Ages.20 Since the Eretrians were powerful and prosperous from at least

Environment of Eastern Attika



the middle of the eighth century B.C.E. and their power was felt along the eastern Attic shore, it is reasonable to imagine that the values and lifestyles of their nobility impressed their less powerful cousins of eastern Attika. (A parallel case is to be found in the notice taken by such as Sappho and Alkaios of the Lydians and their habits in their poetry.) Claiming descent from “Achaians”is,of course,exactly what Peisistratos did (see chapter II..B). How influential were the Eretrians in the formation of Peisistratos’ earlier career? The Eretrian sphere was the sea.They were held to be famous fighters, and their aims and interests would seem to have devolved upon aggression and expansion. By the sixth century B.C.E., they were old hands at colonialism and had developed various ways and means to enhance their profits. It is not impossible that Peisistratos’ earlier association with the Eretrians allowed him to import to Athens newer fighting tactics and methods to replace the old, ineffectual ones with which the Athenians had been waging war with Megara. We recall that Peisistratos made his public mark first as a soldier, and in this Eretria might have played a central role.Although there is no evidence for it, Peisistratos might have taken military service with the Euboians before debuting at Athens. His strategia implies a record of successful military activity and his victory at Nisaia some experience in land/sea operations. Perhaps Eretria, which was very favorable to Peisistratos even when he was destitute, offered him his first chances for acquiring military experience in its colonial sphere, just as it did later at Rhaike– los. Peisistratos certainly did enjoy outstanding relations with the Eretrians.21

.     The influence of maritime Euboia notwithstanding, eastern Attika’s independent involvement with the sea appears to have been inveterate.The myth of the “Lemnian Deeds” in Herodotos suggests that piracy was a factor in eastern Attika from remote times and that it affected the area of Brauron in particular. According to Herodotos (.), while some “Athenian” women were celebrating a festival in honor of Artemis at Brauron, Pelasgians from Lemnos swooped down upon them in fiftyoared ships (pentekontors) and stole many away to the island, where they were kept as concubines.When the male children produced by the mixed unions of Lemnians and Athenians grew to maturity, they began to act



            

domineeringly, lording it over the native Lemnians.Angered by their arrogant comportment, the Lemnians slew them all, thus perpetrating the infamous Lemnian “deeds.” The act was later used by the Athenians as a pretext for their annexation of island, the myth becoming useful to support Athens’ aggression.The merits of the myth as history aside, however, the attack of the Pelasgians at Brauron seems to recall piratical descents occurring along the eastern Attic shore.22 Piracy was common enough throughout Greece from the Bronze Age on.Thucydides asserts that piracy was widespread before Minos swept the seas, and he attests its persistence even in his day in such backwaters as Ozolian Lokris and Acarnania.Thucydides further observes its commonness in the time of Homer.23 The reference to Cretan pirates putting in at Thorikos in the Hymn to Demeter corroborates Thucydides’ testimony for the Bronze Age, and the myth of the “Lemnian Deeds” suggests that the eastern Attic coast was prey to piratical raids in the same period. Little wonder then that at least some of its later Bronze Age inhabitants sought unobtrusive places to dwell and then pulled back even from them to more secure positions inland (cf. chapter II..B and appendix A).24 Gentler sea trafficking is also indicated in “testimonies” about the eastern Attic shore that seem to date to the Bronze Age.From Prasiai on Porto Raphti Bay, the Attic the–oria set out annually to Delos, the ritual originating, it seems, in eastern Attika.25 Contact between eastern Attika and the Aegean islands,but also with southwestern Anatolia (and further east),was regular even into the Submycenaean period, as we have seen.26 On such testimony, but also because of the position of Brauron/ Philaïdai, adjacent to Euboia and along important sea routes between Greece, the Cyclades, and apparently via Cape Geraistos and Skyros to the northeast, the sea must have played a significant role in the lives of the region’s inhabitants from quite early on. Further involvement in overseas ventures of the Archaic inhabitants of the region was undoubtedly encouraged by the Euboian example. It is Peisistratos we find who encouraged the Athenians to engage in colonialism during his tyranny.

.   Why did Peisistratos and others from Philaïdai not turn toward Eretria or the seas instead of Athens? Peisistratos’ debut in Athenian politics could be taken as an indication that Euboia’s influence over the eastern Attic re-

Environment of Eastern Attika

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gion was waning or perhaps simply that the attentions of its inhabitants had, for unclear reasons, shifted to Athens.There is some slight evidence that members of the Philaid clan or Peisistratidai had already established a foothold in Athenian politics by the beginning of the sixth century B.C.E. There is nothing to suggest that it was more than that, though, or that there was anything like a mass movement of diakrians to Athens.27 Athens’ growing wealth, attested by Solon, must have been the primary attraction for the inhabitants of eastern Attika in the early sixth century. Like all places with growing economies, it offered opportunities to the enterprising.Thucydides (.) signals this when he says that gain was the primary motivator of Archaic tyrants in their tyrannies, and his statement must surely be inclusive of the Peisistratids.28 Yet, while greed may have been an incentive for Peisistratos to journey to Athens—Solon seems to say that everybody at Athens was greedy but himself—and that accords with what Thucydides attests motivated tyrants, it cannot be taken as the sole or even primary motivation for Peisistratos’ entry into Athenian affairs. For, if it was, the tyrant failed to accumulate what many other tyrants in Archaic Greece had done and would do. Peisistratos was never described as a wealthy man, as one who deprived others of wealth,or as one who amassed it just to keep it before or through his reign.29 To the contrary, personal enrichment is much less evident in Peisistratos’ case than it was even in those of other Athenians such as Alkmeon, the son of Megakles (I), and Kallias (II), the son of Hipponikos.30 He collected money in Thrace, to be sure, but not thereafter, except, if we can believe Thucydides (..), in moderate taxes. Rather, Peisistratos’ enrichment seems to have been implicated with the Athenians’. There is in fact no evidence to indicate that Athens was ever exploited by Peisistratos.31 There were in fact other inducements. Because the war with Megara was long, drawn out, and apparently attritive,Athens, like Megara, needed new resources to bring to bear. As we have seen, according to Plutarch, before Solon arrived on the scene the Athenians were said to have prohibited talk about the war with Megara because it had been long and difficult and they had suffered at least one significant reverse.32 Transgression of the law apparently meant death.33 To circumvent it, Solon is said to have adopted the persona of a madman, rushing into the agora costumed to urge the Athenians to renew the war and take Salamis from the Megarians.34 Solon succeeded in rousing the Athenians to take up arms and



            

capture Salamis, apparently only to lose it again.Whatever the particular merits of the story, the lengthiness of the war and the toll it took are not to be doubted.35 The subsequent loss of Salamis was disastrous and lay Eleusis, Phaleron, and the Kephissian Plain open to Megarian attack.The morale among the Athenians must have been very low and created among them yet another crisis in leadership.The Athenians might well have been casting about for new leaders (if not a new government altogether), especially if, as seems the case, none of the old leaders were stepping forward in the new crisis.36 (Perhaps what helped to open the door for the return of the Alkmeonidai, exiled for their part in the Kylonian affair, was this continuing crisis in leadership and the failure of the aristocracy of Athens to provide capable war leaders.)37 Dissension can have only made matters worse, since the war effort was weakened by recalcitrance and invited further Megarian attack.The attempted tyranny of Damasias in  B.C.E. might be taken as symptomatic of the discontentment with this state of affairs, as well as new opportunities for such as Damasias who would be supreme leader (i.e., tyrant).38 Conditions at Athens in the early sixth century after the loss of Salamis favored especially a military leader who could settle things with Megara as well as “order up” the “banquet” of Athens’ still growing wealth. We cannot be sure what fighters or other material resources Peisistratos might have summoned from the diakria, but, as mentioned, he cannot have brought much or many with him.39 He was, however, good at warfare and, as it turned out, an effective public speaker. Either immediately or after some time in the field, Peisistratos won the confidence of the Athenians in the field.That appointment is to be appraised as a first substantive victory for him and over those who might aspire to such leadership, whose capabilities were rated deficient by the Athenians.We do not know if Peisistratos’ appeal was similar to Solon’s: rhetorical, urgent, patriotic in tone, animated, or otherwise dramatic. At all events, Peisistratos’ performance in the war advanced him in the eyes of the Athenians and led finally to the tyranny.Victory against Megara set him well apart from other political competitors.40 Of course, the symbiosis that arose later between the Peisistratids and the Athenians need not by any means have been on the cards from the outset, even as we have judged. It is very possible that Peisistratos seized upon the greater possibilities when, after his victory at Nisaia, his horizons had broadened considerably (cf. chapter II..F). In view of the cri-

Environment of Eastern Attika

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sis of leadership at Athens, the haplessness of the Athenian aristoi and Peisistratos’ skills as soldier, it is certainly reasonable to think that the clever Peisistratos inserted himself into Athenian affairs, knowing that he could do better. His military skills might have been developed during the war or, as I think, before it; there were, at any rate, positive rewards for fighting and winning for Athens. Perhaps Peisistratos knew early on that victory in the field was the springboard to political preeminence: Solon had already shown that.

.                      There is no further evidence by which to determine anything more precisely about Peisistratos’ earlier career and how it was informed. Questions nevertheless abound.What exactly was the extent of the Peisistratid landholdings in eastern Attika? What was their nature? Were the Peisistratids sea traders, sailors, pirates, or all of these in combination or in turn? Were they feudatories—that, too, would help to explain Peisistratos’ preeminent military skills before his entry into the Megarian war—or clients of the Eretrian hippeis? Was their influence confined to the environs of Philaïdai?41 Was Peisistratos a war leader by choice, like a medieval condotierre, or was it a role forced upon him by circumstances? Were the Peisistratidai nouveau riches in respect of their neighbors? That is, did they acquire what they had by campaigning? Were they relatively impoverished and did their impoverishment act as a goad for Peisistratos’ ambitions and tyranny? Did Peisistratos, the first notable member of his genos, lead it out of the “wilderness of anonymity,” so to speak, or had the Peisistratids always been political luminaries in Attika, as their claims to Neleid origins and the archonship of the earlier Peisistratos might suggest? Why, if the latter, had the genos been apparently dormant thereafter, and, indeed, why was it and the region of the diakria seemingly detached from Athenian affairs really until Peisistratos’ final bid for power? Did Peisistratos create or spur movement toward Athens and the political involvement of the diakria in its affairs or was that movement already under way? For the most part, posing such questions is as far as we may proceed. For some, however, we may venture some guarded, speculative answers. The Peisistratidai very likely possessed some land in the area of Brauron/ Philaïdai: their connection to the cult of Brauronian Artemis suggests that and residency of some duration there (cf. chapter II..B). The same in-



            

volvement implies that they were at least local luminaries. On the other hand, Megakles’ effortless deposition of Peisistratos, the latter’s subsequent flight entirely out of Attika, and his long-term effort to amass wealth enough to overcome his adversaries all point to the conclusion that the material resources of the Peisistratidai were quite meager when compared even to those of the Alkmeonid.42 Certainly the home region provided no basis of power capable of sustaining Peisistratos’ aims in Athens; in fact, it was not even redoubtable. As we have seen, the supposed “party” of hyperakrioi that Peisistratos is said to have constituted played no real part in the politics at Athens before his first two tyrannies. Before his third tyranny, Peisistratos had to accumulate foreign money and allies.43 One index of that lack is provided by the Wappenmünzen themselves, the “heraldic” coins of Peisistratos’ final tyranny, which are relatively few in number and small in denomination.44 The alloy of these coins is unevenly impure, indicating that the metal for them derived from several sources rather than one that Peisistratos controlled outright. We must conclude from them that the elder tyrant had no steady source of income, even after expending great energy to acquire wealth enough to reestablish his rule once and for all at Athens. The picture of the tyranny’s finances changed dramatically—and the private wealth of Peisistratos’ heirs increased markedly—when around  B.C.E. a rich new vein of silver was located at Laurion.45 By the same token, it is unlikely that the Peisistratidai ever “controlled” significant numbers of regional adherents or possessed many retainers. Peisistratos may have had a close group of adherents, but these must have been relatively few in number. Although the Peisistratids may have been significant in their small part of Attika, they were not great magnates even by Athenian city standards. For all of the murkiness about these years, an image of the younger Peisistratos nevertheless begins to emerge. Like Solon, a noble from the fringes of the Athenian “world,” unimpressive with respect to wealth or political power but of (purportedly) notable lineage, Peisistratos owed his initial success partly to the happenstance of crisis and partly to his ability to capitalize on it. Like Solon, Peisistratos seems to have united patriotic purpose, personal vision, capability and intelligence with ambition: we need not doubt that he sought to help the Athenians win their war with Megara and then, because of that, considered himself the best man to lead the Athenians more permanently.

Environment of Eastern Attika

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Unlike Solon, however, Peisistratos’ ambitions outstripped the aristocratic conventions that restrained the lawgiver. His acceptance of the tyranny opposed Solon’s many times stated aversion to it. Had Solon ended the war with Megara successfully or effectively dealt with the economic crisis affecting Athens in the early sixth century, the door might well have been closed upon Peisistratos and his tyranny. He would not have had the chance to demonstrate those superior military capabilities that were, because of the war, so much in demand but so lacking among Athens’ notables. Peisistratos would not have earned popularity from his role nor would his “great deeds” in the war have been recalled when the Athenians were asked to assent to his tyranny. As we have seen, like Solon, Peisistratos possessed what we might call “political savvy,” which the ancients called sophia.According to Plutarch’s source (Them. .), sophia was comprised of “a very acute political sense and practical intelligence, which had been a pursuit and had been preserved [sc. at Athens] . . . in a succession from Solon.”46 Peisistratos did not start out well in the arena of Athenian politics, but he seems to have learned its lessons and applied his knowledge, with the result that he established his tyranny finally for nearly two decades. Peisistratos’ political sensibilities were variously informed: the Euboians (Eretrians in particular), the Athenians (Solon and Megakles in particular), and perhaps other leaders elsewhere (Tynnondas, Pittakos?) figured in his political thinking and behavior. Of all of these, his most prominent guiding light must have been Solon. Solon had introduced solutions and adapted Athens’ government to the problems besetting Attika: he had been in effect (if not in fact) a tyrant himself. Solon was, of course, only partially successful.Above all, Peisistratos seems to have realized that, as Solon implies, the key to power in Athenian politics was the de– mos (not the aristocracy) and, as Solon emphasizes so many times, the key to the de– mos was chre– mata. Peisistratos not only grasped this but incorporated it as one of the piers of his tyranny. (Of course, chre– mata remained a pier of the democracy.) Peisistratos’ tyrannical ambitions, which may not have been present before Nisaia, are well charted in his impressively tenacious campaign to achieve the tyranny thereafter.An ego different from Solon’s, perhaps, but how different was it from Pittakos’ or Tynnondas’? An afterword here. Peisistratos’ earlier career hinged upon Nisaia, an opportunity created for him by the failure of Athenian aristocrats—just as opportunity had been created for Solon. Nisaia caused the Athenians



            

to conceive of Peisistratos as fortunate (olbios).47 Upheavals, discontentment, fear, and insecurity wrought by a combination of others’ errors and defeats spelled the difference for Peisistratos between tyranny and oblivion. Olbios indeed, but he could not have come to the fore or have succeeded over the long run without innate and surpassing ambition, egotism, and belief in his own ability to attain his goals. Peisistratos was in the right place at the right time to be sure, but he surely put himself consciously in a position to profit from it. His road to the final tyranny implies that he could adapt to changed and changing circumstances and, unlike Solon, maintain himself in power, pliant, as a successful democratic leader must be, not rigid like a dictator—or even a Solon.

 

Prosopography `

.      A. Peisistratos’ Father and Mother There is little evidence about Peisistratos’ parents or more immediate family. Much of what little there is pertains to Hippokrates, the father of Peisistratos, and is found at the very beginning of Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise to the tyranny (..–). Unfortunately, Herodotos’ story involving Hippokrates cannot be taken as historically valid.1 At the Olympic games, Hippokrates was preparing to cook. The Spartan sage Chilon, a renowned antityrannist, happened to be on the scene and noticed that the water in Hippokrates’ cauldron boiled although there was no fire beneath it. Chilon advised Hippokrates not to marry or if he was married not to have children. Of course, his implicit warning was meant to avoid the birth of Peisistratos and so the creation of the tyranny. Hippokrates dismissed Chilon’s admonition—as he must—and the result was both tyrant and tyranny. While this impossible encounter is easily deciphered as a mythifying aetiology for the tyranny suitably wrapped in heavy irony for (Greek) “good story”effect,it may well have been deemed credible by the Athenians, by those who transmitted the story to Herodotos, and perhaps even by Herodotos himself.2 Really no more than a name in Herodotos, Hippokrates plays the recognizable role of the foolish mortal as a foil to the legendary tyrantfighter, seer, and “tragic warner,” Chilon; his actions are obviously contrary to the Spartan’s unerring advice.To achieve the proper ironic effect, 



   

Chilon must be right and Hippokrates very wrong to ignore what he says.3 The irony is heightened by the unnaturalness of Chilon’s monition: any Greek would understand why Hippokrates would not forego progeny on the word of a mere seer.Yet it was that very natural desire and concomitant dismissal of Chilon’s warning that brings about Peisistratos and Athenian tyranny. Hippokrates’ natural disregard for Chilon and his failure to heed Chilon’s warning becomes his hybris—a recognizable tyrant family trait.4 In view of such fiction, it is no surprise that there is no more evidence for Hippokrates,who he was,or what his political standing may have been at the time, earlier or later. Indeed, it appears that there was no record of him at all. His name, however, we may take as authentic, since, among other reasons, it would probably have been preserved as the patronymic of Peisistratos in some tyrant inscription somewhere. The ste– le– adikias, which was displayed on the akropolis and gives, for example, the name of the grandfather of Myrrhine, is a likely candidate.5 As mentioned earlier, while it could be that the horse-compound name Hippokrates indicates the influence of the Eretrian hippeis (cf.appendix B),it could also amount to no more than meaningless affectation by a simple, rural man. At all events, Hippokrates was a resident of the region of Philaïdai and landed to some extent in the area.The identities of Peisistratos’ paternal grandfather and grandmother are unknown.6 Even less is known about Peisistratos’ mother. She may have hailed from the environs of Philaïdai, the diakria, or Eretria or she may even have been from Athens itself.7 A special connection between the Eretrians and the Peisistratidai is indicated by Peisistratos’ subsequent relationship to the Euboians (cf. chapter IV..A and .A), and it is possible that it derived from his mother. In fact, if such a tie existed it more likely came from Peisistratos’ mother than from his father, for if Peisistratos’ father was a foreigner the information should have surfaced later. Indeed, Peisistratos’ own claims to Neleid bloodlines would have been impugned if his line were non-Attic. For the same reason, though, an Eretrian link for either father or mother seems unlikely, since no source even hints at such for Peisistratos and we should expect some notice of it if was fact.8 Late information about Peisistratos’ mother is of no value. The testimonium that Peisistratos’ mother was a cousin of Solon’s (Plutarch, Solon .–) is not credible (cf. section C) nor again is the entirely fictional and clearly scurrilous anecdote that Peisistratos’ mother, in old age, unnaturally and disgracefully took up openly with a much younger man. This

Prosopography

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story is obviously prurient in character, was certainly not generated in the Archaic period, and may be taken as an invention of a later, much looser age. Indeed, it involves quaint “celebrities” among the Hellenistic “smart set” doing the kinds of things these fancied such tyrant types would do. Indeed, the story is stock in any case, proving the sexual licentiousness and unnaturalness of the generic tyrant, who in this case happened to be Peisistratos.9 We know nothing of the identities of Peisistratos’ maternal grandfather or grandmother. More about either parent we cannot say except to venture that, on the basis of the story in Herodotos, it could be that Hippokrates had more to do with engendering or encouraging Peisistratos’ ambition to become tyrant than is readily apparent in Herodotos. Read as representation, Hippokrates’ role in Herodotos might vaguely allude to a central one he played in spurring his son on to the tyranny. Certainly, he bears responsibility for it from the outset in Herodotos’ logos on Peisistratos’ rise.10 But this is all very tenuous, and on the other hand the story of Hippokrates’ pot boiling over seems so stock that it may well possess no other meaning than its limited, ironic, and entertaining folkloric one.There is thus just the possibility that something more was known about Hippokrates than Herodotos relates, perhaps information such that it prevented Herakleides Pontikos from linking Solon and Peisistratos through their fathers (cf. section C). On the other hand, Herakleides, as he seems to do, may have simply been exploiting the greater void of information about the mothers of Solon and Peisistratos, thereby avoiding the risk of contradiction or criticism. We hear of no siblings of Peisistratos, although it seems unlikely that he would have been a singleton. Perhaps he had a brother named Hippokrates.

B. The Archon Peisistratos Many scholars have assumed that Peisistratos, the archon for – B.C.E., was related to the tyrant of the sixth century.11 The ground for such an assumption is, however, really no more than homonymity.12 The name Peisistratos need not have been monopolized by the genos from Philaïdai, which, on the basis of Herodotos’ positive testimony and a lack of further testimonia to the contrary, was inconsequential before the advent of the tyrant.13 The name Peisistratos possessed both Homeric and Pylian overtones: it recollected Nestor and his son, the companion of

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Telemachos, as well as the other Neleids. Other Athenian gene– claimed Neleid links because, as we have seen, belief in a Pylian lineage could bear dividends, as it did for the Peisistratids.14 The same reservations apply to the appearance of the name “Pisis〈t〉tratos” on a pottery sherd that Jeffery, among others, has identified as the archon.The sherd’s inscription need denote neither archon nor tyrant; it could have named someone entirely different from either.There is no good context for reading it so.15 Even to allow that the archon was related to the tyrant and his namesake nets us little more about the tyrant.Although it may be said that the Peisistratidai were involved in Athenian political affairs about a century before Peisistratos sought the tyranny, the elder Peisistratos left no legacy of any consequence nor did he prepare the ground in any perceptible way for the tyranny to come.16 As we have seen, Herodotos marks the tyrant as a perceived outlander who possessed no appreciable constituency in the city when he entered politics there. (His initial and continuing lack of power in the city is indexed in fact by the relative ease with which, at first, he was made and unmade twice by Megakles the Alkmeonid, then the leader of the de– mos.)17 Even at the time of Palle– ne– , although city and country Athenians joined him before the battle, Peisistratos relied, after all, on warriors supplied to him by his foreign allies. Thus, whether related to the tyrant Peisistratos or not, the slender information about the elder Peisistratos tells us only that, in relation to the younger Peisistratos and his career, his political legacy was negligible.The most that is possible to say is that, if Peisistratos the archon were in fact a relative of the tyrant—and that is by no means assured—the Peisistratidai were already participating in the highest levels of Athenian government in the early seventh century B.C.E. If true, the participation would appear unusual, since the Peisistratidai seem to have fallen out of politics for an interim of nearly one hundred years. Such are the problems created by an absence of context in regard to events and personages of the seventh century.

C. Solon and Peisistratos: Cousins and Lovers? Herakleides Pontikos states that the mothers of Solon and Peisistratos were cousins, thus implying that the lawgiver and the tyrant had the same great-grandparents (Plut. Sol. .).The fourth-century philosopher suggests a much closer kinship—and seems to offer more precise evidence for it—than does Plutarch’s source,who attests that Solon descended from

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the Neleids through his father Execestides.18 Inasmuch as kinship was given as one of the reasons that Solon and Peisistratos shared first friendship and then erotic attachment, it is reasonable to conclude that Herakleides is also to be counted among those who made Solon and Peisistratos eraste–s (lover) and eromenos (beloved).19 What is the value of Herakleides’ information? Numerous scholars have noted difficulties involved with the alleged relationship between Solon and Peisistratos. A prominent one is that Herodotos mentions both men but does not bring them together as Herakleides does. Scholars have generally gone not much farther than that in their critical evaluations of these sources.20 Although the silence of earlier ancient authors such as Herodotos could be explained as the result of suppression of the fact by their sources—for some,it would not have done to have Solon, the protodemocrat and renowned antityrannist, coupled with Peisistratos21—it is likelier that they said nothing about the relationship between Solon and Peisistratos because there was nothing to say. As we shall presently see, the chronology of the lives of the two undercuts the “evidence” for their affiliation. It is very difficult to imagine any reliable source recording the precise affinity of the mothers of Solon and Peisistratos or for that matter detailing an erotic attachment. There is no notice of a cousin affinity before Herakleides, who would thus seem to have been the first to observe it. In fact, it appears as if that was left to such as Herakleides, no historian, perhaps following the felicitous but unhistorical lead of Herodotos’ renowned union of Solon and Kroisos to fill in the silent interstices and artificially to create such relations between Solon and Peisistratos. Herakleides may well have wanted the two to be united in this way, and in the void of silence there were no facts to prevent him from doing exactly that.22 Proof for Herakleides’ invention may be found in what he supplies himself. Elsewhere in Plutarch’s Life of Solon Herakleides states that Peisistratos followed Solon’s example in passing a law concerning the maintenance of veterans (.). Herakleides would thus seem a prime candidate for authorship of the more general, contextual passage in the Life, which mentions that Peisistratos cultivated Solon until he became his adviser.As a faithful disciple of Solon’s,Peisistratos observed Solon’s laws and compelled even his philoi to do the same (.–).23 Herakleides also said that Solon lived for many years after the accession of Peisistratos to the tyranny.24 This would allow him the role of wise adviser.

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Herakleides earned reaction for his views even from ancient critics. Theophrastos, for one, opposed Herakleides on the derivation of at least one of the Peisistratid laws, implying, in effect, that Peisistratos was responsible for his own laws and did not follow Solon at all. Moreover, Phanias of Eresos, among others, directly contradicted Herakleides as to Solon’s death, noting that Solon died two years after the accession of Peisistratos, a consensus view among ancients and moderns alike. Phanias’ date is more precise than Herakleides’ perhaps because it was tied, whether by Phanias or another, to the archon year of Hegestratos (– B.C.E.) and so to the archon list.25 Thus, Herakleides seems to have been rather on his own (especially in the case of dating Solon’s death), apparently arranging things more in accordance with his own wishes than with evidence available or even with the arrangements of others. What prompted Herakleides to such invention? His probable aim was to portray Solon and Peisistratos as mentor and pupil but also to explain that relationship better. It was quite natural, it seems, for a late-fourthcentury Greek philosopher to expect that such an association would entail erotic attachment: this was certainly not a new idea in Herakleides’ time.26 Herakleides, however, seems to have gone that notion one better by making Solon and Peisistratos roughly coeval instead of much different in age. Peisistratos was born ca.  B.C.E., however (cf. appendix D), while Solon was a grown man certainly by his archonship of – B.C.E. and then away from Athens shortly after that.27 Peisistratos was too young to be an eromenos before Solon’s archonship and special commission and too old to be one after Solon returned from his trip abroad.28 Herakleides ignored such problems in order to bring the two together in time, spirit, and body. For Herakleides, it made better sense that, if the two were lovers (which condition implied that they were not so different in age) and if they were closely associated as teacher and pupil, they were also related.Herakleides presumably invented the kinship to better improve the rationale for the sexual liaison, just as he extended Solon’s life span well into the tyranny, apparently on his own authority. Kinship helped to explain the unity of spirit of Solon and Peisistratos, even as it did for Harmodios and Aristogeiton, two from the same clan.29 Although Herakleides was not alone in making Solon and Peisistratos lovers, he seems to have been unique in attesting to kinship through their mothers.30 There were several other prompts for Herakleides’ inventiveness apart from the facts that the reputations of the two men were similar, that they were contemporaries (from the perspective of the fourth century B.C.E.

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and certainly from his), and that both factors encouraged imposing the stock philosophical formula for construing the relationship between mentor and pupil. Solon and Peisistratos were prominent personages and leaders of Athens in the early sixth century B.C.E. Both were successful in war, both were popular in their times, and both left lasting reputations as memorable patriotic soldiers but also very intelligent men.31 Indeed, each was remembered for moderation, righteousness, and sagacious leadership; both were held to be outstanding sophoi.32 Already by the fourth century B.C.E., Solon had become a fixture among the Seven Sages, while Peisistratos was sometimes numbered among them.33 In the traditions, some of which seem to have preceded Herakleides, the two men are sometimes almost identical in actions and motivations.34 In Plutarch’s Life of Solon (.), it is said that, although Solon and Peisistratos differed, their differences never caused a breach. Solon’s poems seem to indicate that he was adamant in his aversion to tyranny inasmuch as he vigorously repudiated the possibility for himself and opposed it for others. Peisistratos, on the other hand, was not only not adverse to tyranny but he also strove mightily to become and remain tyrant.The polarity of these was softened by the recollection and portrayal of Peisistratos as a nontyrannical tyrant, a fair and just man who put himself beneath the law even as tyrant and preserved Solon’s constitution. Solon was himself not completely free of the tar of tyrannical action, even though he explicitly disowned tyranny. Herakleides (among others?), has him co-opted into an adviser by Peisistratos as tyrant.35 Peisistratos, immoderate in becoming tyrant, discharged his power moderately thereafter; Solon, the outspoken antityrant, became dictator of Athens and overruled the wants of his constituency. For Herakleides (and others), it was the influence of the righteous Solon that, according to Herodotos, ultimately brought about the “conversion” of Kroisos, the oriental tyrant.The same righteousness also had its effect on Peisistratos, the Athenian one. Discarding a historian’s restraint in view of silence and chronological impossibility, Herakleides opted instead for the serendipity of affiliating the two, a choice that was nevertheless underpinned by the same kind of myth logic that united Solon and Kroisos in Herodotos (.ff.).Herakleides took it upon himself to fill in the blank spaces,partly to be found in the tradition, partly left to him by predecessors who invented the erotic attachment. Herakleides undoubtedly took inspiration from the celebrated relationships of Sokrates and Alcibiades, Plato and the younger Dionysios, and very probably Harmodios and Aristogeition.36

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What other than Solon’s stated opposition to tyranny might have brought the two together we cannot know to say on the evidence.The disputes in antiquity suggest that there was actually very little information about Solon and Peisistratos together. If anything, it was probably the actions of Peisistratos that reflected Solonian influence and so prompted notions about their affinities. It is just possible that the hostility of the fifth-century Athenians to the Peisistratidai quashed or otherwise explained away whatever friendly, cooperative, or kinship relationship existed in fact between Solon and Peisistratos. That would mean, however, that the fourth-century authors had much less to go on and so invented more.37 The silence of history and the desires of the authors of the fourth century (and later) to make points with their contemporary audiences permitted Herakleides and others to take the liberties they took.That silence and those liberties prohibit historians from accepting such testimonies as factual.

.   On appearances, Peisistratos had at least four wives. The first was the mother of Hippias and Hipparchos, whose name is not recorded (Hdt. ..; Thuc. ..). Timonassa, daughter of Gorgilos of Argos (Ath. Pol. .) was the second, and the anonymous daughter of Megakles, the son of Alkmeon (Hdt. ..–) third. Finally, there was “Koisyra,” an Eretrian woman (schol. Nubes ).The first three marriages all appear to be factual, the last very likely; the chronology of the marriages is not clear.38 Details about the women and the marriages, however, are more difficult to determine.

A. Peisistratos’Anonymous First Wife There is no direct evidence about Peisistratos’ first wife, her name, family or regional affiliations; in fact, we know of her existence and when the marriage occurred only obliquely.39 On the basis of the ste– le– adikias, Thucydides (..) classifies Hippias, Hipparchos, and Thessalos as gnhvsioi (“legitimate”) so implying that Peisistratos’ other children by Timonassa of Argos (and perhaps others?) were novqoi (“illegitmate”). Evidently Peisistratos had a “lawful” Athenian wife who produced these “legitimate” heirs before his marriage to the Argive, which produced the “illegitimate.”40 Thucydides says in the same passage that Hippias was the

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eldest of the “legitimate” children, Herodotos that he was a very old man (sc. over seventy years) at the time of Marathon in  B.C.E. (..).41 Peisistratos’ first marriage, then, had to have taken place before his initial attempt at tyranny (– B.C.E.) and probably before the conclusion of the Megarian war, perhaps ca.  B.C.E.42 It is reasonable to think that the first marriage came about with some political advantages for Peisistratos in view, since his second and third marriages were arranged to bring such advantages. The date of Peisistratos’ first marriage is often more precisely calculated in respect of Hippias’ age. Beyond his rank as eldest son and his elderliness at Marathon,Herodotos says that Hippias gave advice to Peisistratos at Eretria, apparently in the mid-s, after the tyrant had been expelled from Athens for the second time (Hdt. ..). Hippias could not have been younger than teenage at a minimum to have given such advice and, on the testimony of Herodotos, a reasonably solid terminus ante quem seems to have been established for Hippias’ birth at  B.C.E. While the fact of the younger tyrant’s extreme old age is helpful for dating his birth, albeit very approximately, and so Peisistratos’ first marriage,Thucydides’ information that Hippias was eldest tells us nothing about his birth date or the dating of Peisistratos’ first marriage and so is of no use here. On closer inspection, the advice story of Herodotos is also unhelpful. To accept that Hippias gave advice to Peisistratos on the island of Euboia after the second expulsion from Athens, a number of substantial difficulties must be overcome. First, taking the testimonium at face value, we must believe that Peisistratos arrived on Euboia with no plan of his own and unable to come up with one: in other words, he was hapless in Eretria but for Hippias’ advice.The very fact that Peisistratos traveled to Euboia and not elsewhere belies that. Moreover, though Peisistratos was the leader of his party, a former tyrant, the most experienced and successful in war and politics, the apparent author of every plan before and after the “conference” on Euboia, and must have been indisputably the center of authority among his followers, he had to rely on the advice of a mere stripling, without such practical experience, whose counsel nevertheless prevailed over that which was generated by others older and wiser.All of this is quite unbelievable. Adding to the problems created by taking the testimonium at face are much more serious ones of transmission.We must believe that the “family conference” not only occurred in fact but that record of it was somehow preserved and accurately transmitted (presumably by some sort of

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eyewitness chronicler?) first to Herodotos’ source and then to Herodotos himself, all this, despite the fact that, beyond Hippias’ advice, nothing of the other participants, including the principal Peisistratos, survived.43 Who was that original source? How was this history transmitted? These problems undermine the “advice of Hippias” story, which must be classed as nonhistorical. Its context is Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise: there is much that is implausible there. The story of Hippias’ advice must be read in fact as yet another part of the doctored fifth-century Athenian “history” of the Peisistratids. The story trades on Hippias’ memory as “evil tyrant,” a man most infamous for his will to return to Athens and rule as tyrant again. (Its genesis is thus best placed around or after Marathon, when Hippias demonstrated his fierce resolve to reclaim his lost tyranny.) The story was inserted in the account of Peisistratos’ rise in Herodotos as a kind of interstitial addendum to explain why Peisistratos returned to Attika to take up the tyranny, the blame for which return falls squarely on the hated Hippias. Indeed, like son, like father: the anachronism was credible because Hippias’ own resolve to return to power was notable and he could well be believed as having put his father up to the same thing.44 In the context of the earliest stages of Peisistratos’ final exile, the “advice of Hippias” makes no sense at all;as fiction used to give reason for Peisistratos’long efforts in the north and resolve to return to the tyranny, it makes a great deal of sense as an aetiology.45 It obviously cannot be used even to bear on the date of Peisistratos’ first marriage because it is unhistorical.46 While Hippias could have been a youth in the mid-s, we can estimate that and the dating of Peisistratos’ first marriage from the reasonably creditable fact that Hippias was very old at the time of Marathon. It is to be assumed that Peisistratos was not under the age of thirty at the time of his command in the war against Megara and that, like most Athenian males, he was married to his first wife proximate to that age. Thirty was the normal age of marriage for Athenian and other Greek males in the Archaic and Classical periods, it was also the minimum age for the Athenian strate– gia in the Classical period.47 Peisistratos may have been a field phenomenon and promoted very rapidly from “the ranks,” but at a minimum he would also have had to demonstrate proficiency in warfare and suitability for lower command among the Athenians before he had even a hope of campaigning for high command. If Peisistratos was born ca.  (see appendix D), then he was thirty ca. .This provides

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an approximate terminus post quem for both his strate– gia and the dating of his first marriage. While Peisistratos could have married his first wife before  B.C.E., the likelihood of the marriage before then diminishes in proportion to his youthfulness, lack of career, and of course Hippias’ greater age.48 If we assume that in  B.C.E. Hippias was at least seventy, the recognized threshold of old age among the Greeks, Peisistratos’ first marriage must date no later than . However, since the Peisistratos’ generalship and the victory of Nisaia occurred earlier than that and Hippias was “very old” at Marathon, the marriage should be placed rather earlier than the date of the first tyranny.49 However, a date very much earlier than ca.  becomes increasingly less apt, since Hippias would have been upward of eighty at Marathon and by Greek standards most were dead by then.50 While a plausible range of dates for all might be ca. – B.C.E., the most reasonable range seems to be much narrower, viz., a few years either side of : the marriage, ca.  (i.e., somewhat earlier and nearer in time to Peisistratos’ thirtieth year), Hippias’ birth, ca. –, and the strate– gia and Nisaia, ca. – (rather later than his thirtieth year but nearer in time to Peisistratos’ first bid for tyranny).51 As for Peisistratos’ first wife’s identity, Schachermeyr made her an Athenian, since, as we have seen,Thucydides makes a distinction between gnhvsioi and novqoi on the ste– le– adikias.52 Hippias, Hipparchos, and Thessalos were “Athenian”; Hegesistratos and Iophon were not. Based on a superficial regard for what Athenians considered “legitimate” offspring, Schachermeyr’s assertion is overemphasized by him and others in lieu of further evidence about the tyrant’s first wife. Simply put, we do not know that Peisistratos’ first wife was Athenian. The anonyma can have been a foreigner and her sons counted as “legitimate”Athenians nonetheless.There are several examples. Kleisthenes, the son of Megakles (II) and “author” of democracy, was, along with his other siblings,“legitimate,” although his mother Agariste was a Sikyonian. The mother of Kimon (II), the son of Miltiades (IV), was the daughter of a Thracian dynast, yet Kimon was accepted as Athenian, that is, until Perikles’ brazenly political citizenship law of – B.C.E. made him a metic (a non-Athenian).53 Thus though Peisistratos’ first wife were a foreigner, her offspring could yet have been “legitimate.” Whether Peisistratos’ wife was foreign or native, the fact that her sons were elder born and succeeded to the tyranny at Athens can have designated them as such

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to Thucydides. (It is obvious, after all, that Thucydides was working with very little when it came to Peisistratid genealogy and succession.) The offspring of Timonassa were, on the other hand, nothoi because they were younger, obviously born of a foreigner, and, most importantly perhaps, not accorded a share of the tyranny at Athens.54 While we may not declare outright that the name of Peisistratos’ first wife was written on the ste– le– adikias of the tyrants on the akropolis at Athens, distinctions were able to be made between children from it and on some basis. It is thus likely that the woman’s name was inscribed on the ste– le– . Notwithstanding, her status as foreign or Athenian was likely not indicated. Peisistratos’ first marriage could have been to an Eretrian woman, perhaps contracted to gain the support of the Eretrian hippeis.Although we do not know what he obtained from this marriage, there were recent models provided by others for the ambitious. Megakles (II), the Alkmeonid, surely got something tangible out of wedding Agariste, the daughter of Kleisthenes of Sikyon. Before him, Kylon wed the daughter of Theagenes of Megara clearly for political gain. On the other hand, both were in much different conditions from those of Peisistratos, who had yet to prove himself in the war with Megara. He was, as yet, a nobody. Indeed, it is a open question whether Peisistratos had already determined upon his political agenda, though it would appear that his ascent to power was gradual and incremental. Nisaia was a watershed for him and an indispensable ingredient in that progress. In view of the fact that Peisistratos went unnoticed and was apparently a nonparticipant in Athenian politics before serving as a soldier for Athens and proving himself in the field, it is not easy to see what, for its part, an Eretrian genos (or anybody else) could get from a match with such a nonentity. Peisistratos did have recourse to Eretria after the second tyranny, and one way to explain the conspicuous cordiality and cooperation extended to him there later is to assume that his first wife was of the Eretrian nobility.55 On balance, however, it seems more reasonable to believe that Peisistratos’ first wife was, at least, of Attika and that this first marriage was forged for more limited aims than Megakles’ and Kylon’s. Such a marriage could have been intended to help produce the political support needed for Peisistratos to become first a regional leader of warriors or even Athenian strate– gos in the war against Megara. It is just possible, too, that the marriage was intended to gain cooperation from important personages in Athenian politics.We should expect the “foreignness” of, espe-

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cially, Hippias to surface were his mother a foreigner. Instead the unquestioned “Athenicity”of both Hippias and Hipparchos and the likeliest time for Peisistratos’ first marriage (ca. ) point to the conclusion that Peisistratos’ first wife was a native of Attika at least. More about Peisistratos’ first wife, who she was, whence she came, and what her connections were, we do not know.Thucydides names no less than three male children that she bore to the tyrant, but they and their names do nothing to help identify the woman further or answer any of these questions.56 By the time of Peisistratos’ second marriage, the anonyma had apparently died, been divorced, or otherwise been put off by the tyrant, for the field was then clear for Peisistratos to enter into the marriage alliance with Gorgilos of Argos.57 We cannot say which of the three actually occurred.

B. Timonassa of Argos Peisistratos’ marriage to Timonassa poses both similar and different problems.According to the Ath.Pol., our best source for Peisistratos’ marriage to Timonassa, Peisistratos “had two sons by the Argive woman, whose names were Iophon and Hegesistratos (who was also called Thettalos).For he married Timonassa, the daughter of an Argive man by the name of Gorgilos, whom earlier Archinos, one of the Kypselids of Ambrakia, had had as wife. From this marriage came friendship (filiva) with the Argives and a thousand of them to fight as allies at the battle of Palle– ne– , Hegesistratos having brought them. Some say that Peisistratos married the Argive woman during his first exile, some when he was ruling” (.–).58 Although much of this information seems to complement what Thucydides gives us about the “legitimate” sons of Peisistratos and could be derived at least partly from the ste– le– adikias mentioned by the historian, the author makes an error by making Thessalos another name for Hegesistratos, thus disagreeing with Thucydides.59 What do we know of Timonassa? She came from a notable Argive house. She was in fact the daughter of an Argive prominent enough to have made an earlier marriage alliance with the tyrant Kypselids of Corinth.60 That seems clear enough. Dating this second marriage, however, is problematic because of apparently diverging information about it. AP mentions two sources that bear on the dating, presumably both of which were Atthidographers.Thus, while the two sources have some authority, it is offset by their fundamental disagreement.61

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Once more a son from the marriage seems to figure in its dating. If it is accepted that Hegesistratos was old enough to have led fighters to Palle– ne– —and there seems to be no distorting tradition of animosity affecting him and his actions as it did Hippias—and that Palle– ne– occurred in – or – B.C.E., then Peisistratos had to have married Timonassa no later than very early in the first tyranny (i.e., –).62 Such a union makes a good deal of sense, then, since Peisistratos as tyrant could benefit from a powerful Argive backer.63 Unfortunately, the information about Hegesistratos’ leadership at Palle– ne– has been doubted by scholars. Some have suggested that Hegesistratos became associated with the Argive contingent because of his name’s meaning or the fact that he was a notable Argive, nothing more.64 As a variation of this, the information has also been taken to indicate that, while Hegesistratos may have been present at the battle, his presence was no more than symbolic and he was not actually a leader of the Argives. Hegesistratos’ young age of course figures, just as it did for the “advice of Hippias” story.The question becomes, how could a mere youth no older than fifteen or sixteen years have led the fighting contingent of Argos?65 While the information about Hegesistratos is open to question, it offers no firm foundation on which to reconstruct the dating of Peisistratos’ marriage to Timonassa anyway. Like the advice of Hippias story in Herodotos, it does not bear on the question of the marriage date.66 The sources of the Ath.Pol. need not be taken to disagree fundamentally, and their testimony is a good place to begin the attempt to date Peisistratos’ marriage to Timonassa. These actually agree to the extent that Peisistratos’ marriage to Timonassa did not occur before Peisistratos’ tyranny was established (– B.C.E.) but either “during his first exile” or “when he was ruling.” Both thus seem to specify a short time frame between the first tyranny and the date when Peisistratos’ very brief marriage to Megakles’ daughter began (probably ca.  B.C.E.).67 Such agreement is not only not irreconcilable but implies that the information derived from a common source.The “disagreement,” such as it is, could have arisen because of different inferences from the same information. If that is so,then reasonably one of testimonia may have varied from an elder one as a correction—something not uncommon among Atthidographers. Which was more correct is not easy to say, and of course the identity of the Ur-source for these can only be the subject of speculation. Reconciliation of these testimonia is nevertheless possible if we understand that the marriage actually began during the first tyranny but en-

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dured beyond it, that is, that it did not terminate with Peisistratos’ marriage to the daughter of Megakles.Timonassa would then have been married to Peisistratos during both periods, the first tyranny and then the first exile. If that is so, then the “opposition” of testimonia occurred because the later Atthidographer asserted what he thought was a better reading of the same information for reasons obviously different from those of the earlier Atthidographer. Although nothing presents itself obviously from either testimonium to recommend it over the other, circumstantial evidence suggests that the marriage was entered into during the time of the tyranny rather than after it. Peisistratos was much more attractive to Gorgilos as a son-in-law holding the tyranny than he was without it.68 What did Peisistratos, easily ejected from Athens by Megakles, have to offer in exile? Archinos,Timonassa’s first husband, was ruling Ambrakia, it appears, when he was married to her, and in contracting the second marriage Gorgilos surely wanted no less than he had gotten with the Kypselid.These must have included tangible benefits for her, but more for himself and her offspring, just as had occurred with the Kypselid.69 A dispossessed tyrant could hardly offer these tangibles, and presumably Timonassa could have found a match elsewhere. There is further reason to think this. Before he actually held the tyranny at Athens the first time, Peisistratos required a domestic not foreign alliance. After he was run out of Attika by Megakles (II) in league with Lykourgos, Peisistratos had to resort again to the Athenian power broker to return to power. Peisistratos was helpless before Megakles, his indispensable city ally for his second tyranny: he could do no more to effect a return than what the Alkmeonid would allow. An Argive alliance would have been of no help to Peisistratos during his first exile, and he would certainly have grasped that.Thus, neither Gorgilos nor Peisistratos had reason to contract the marriage alliance while Peisistratos was in exile the first time. It is much easier to accept that Peisistratos made the alliance with Gorgilos when he was ruling the first time, for reasons that I have earlier stated (see chapter III..). The fact that Peisistratos had recourse to his Argive father-in-law during his first exile, after establishing a relationship with him through a marriage alliance, would also explain the basis for the notion that Timonassa married Peisistratos after he left Athens, during his exile.70 That idea might have been strengthened by a failure to recollect Timonassa’s presence in Athens at all during the first period of tyranny,



   

by the fact that she was resident in Argos, because she was Argive, or simply because of the testimony about Hegesistratos later leading the contingent from Argos.71 In view of all of this, the dating of Peisistratos’ marriage to Timonassa during the first period of tyranny makes much better sense. Marriage to Timonassa during Peisistratos’ first tyranny could have provided the ground for the rift between Megakles and Peisistratos that saw an end to that regime. Something turned the Alkmeonids against the new tyrant, and Peisistratos was speedily ousted from Athens.72 Marriage to Megakles’ daughter—and with it the implicit repudiation of any other marriage-alliance—was certainly the linchpin for the second tyranny. If Peisistratos married Timonassa during his first tyranny,as at least one Atthidographer claimed and as circumstantial evidence seems to support, he presumably did so to strengthen his hand with respect of Megakles. At a minimum, Peisistratos enhanced his standing and his prestige at home and abroad; perhaps he could count on Argives to assist Athens in military or other enterprises.At the same time, association with Megakles was weakened because Peisistratos was less reliant on Megakles—and also less in his control.73 Megakles might well have imagined his own political demise was looming as the tyrant strove to free himself from the Alkmeonids. Megakles acted hastily it seems; presumably, he also acted preemptorily. A short time later, however, apparently because things were going even less well for him at Athens, Megakles changed course again, this time proposing Peisistratos’ restoration to the tyranny on the condition that Peisistratos marry his daughter. Megakles could be seen as trying to replace the Argive alliance with his own Athenian one, thus reacquiring control of the tyrant. When Peisistratos accepted the offer, Megakles must have believed that his aims were or were to be accomplished, that this new marriage alliance nullified any others, and that his position with Peisistratos would not only be enhanced but that the enhancement would be cemented by children issuing from the marriage. Whatever the status of Peisistratos’ marriage to Timonassa at the time of his wedding to Megakles’ daughter, once he was tyrant again Peisistratos voided the terms of the contract with Megakles by refusing to father children with his Alkmeonid wife. This he did, according to Herodotos, because he already had children who were now young men and because the Alkmeonidai were cursed and their stock polluted (..).The “reasons” offered by Herodotos are difficult to accept as the real ones for breaking the alliance, as we have seen (see chapter III.).As

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every Athenian, Peisistratos knew of the Alkmeonid pollution well before he accepted the alliance; the pretext of having “grown” sons is also highly suspect because the existence of the Athenian children was also well known to both parties and it would have been unreasonable for Megakles to stipulate that Peisistratos would dispossess them. An impediment more formidable to accepting Herodotos’ reasons, however, is his source.These reasons for voiding the contract are offered by the historian as though they were Peisistratos’ own. How did these, purported to be the very thoughts of the tyrant, come down faithfully to Herodotos or his source? What would have been the ultimate source? For Peisistratos’ thoughts, it could obviously only be Peisistratos. But this is unreasonable. Peisistratos’ reasons for why the marriage alliance with Megakles collapsed are more logically construed as explanations well after the fact offered by others.The reasons put forth by Herodotos for the second breach between Peisistratos and Megakles must be read as part of the “sexual insult” story, which appears to have been concocted (see chapter III..C). The solvency of the alliance between Peisistratos and Megakles was based on renewing “signatures” of the alliance, that is, outward signs of ongoing agreement by the tyrant to the arrangement. Of course, the key to the Alkmeonid return to power was union with Peisistratos, and the ultimate sign of that was offspring.While it is possible that Megakles desired heirs of his own bloodline to succeed Peisistratos, it is more likely that Megakles wanted to ensure his own ongoing involvement with the new regime at present and into the future by whatever means.These were political arrangements between politicians after all, made for the present and what they could bring immediately or in the nearer future. They should not be viewed as legacies. Children from the marriage would bind the tyrant more closely with Megakles, even as Hegesistratos and Iophon bound Peisistratos and Gorgilos. Presumably, as Athenians, they would at least eclipse the position of the Argive offspring. Failure of the marriage to produce children for whatever reasons effectively voided the contract by excluding Megakles from obtaining kinship with the Peisistratids.74 For the same reasons, it is very possible that the marriage to Timonassa—and the alliance with Gorgilos—did not end with Peisistratos’ “marriage” to Megakles’ daughter. If that is so, the continuing marriage, which was advertised by the failure of Peisistratos to father children with the girl, well may have led to the second rupture between Megakles and Peisistratos. If there is any truth to the story of Peisistratos’ refusal to beget



   

children with the Alkmeonid woman, it was because that would have cemented him to the Alkmeonids when it seems clear, that he did not want to be confined by such arrangements. Maintaining the Argive alliance could help Peisistratos escape Megakles’ inhibiting power altogether, for playing the Argive “card” at an opportune moment (even as he did later at Palle– ne– ) might eliminate Megakles from the political power equation altogether. In the meantime, Peisistratos probably considered that he could continue to pretend marriage to Megakles’ daughter while he kept the Argive one,all of course with the collusion of Gorgilos,whose interests would be better served in the long run if Peisistratos were reinstalled as tyrant of Athens.75 Megakles was certainly deceived to some extent in entering the marriage alliance. Peisistratos may have made representations that he would produce those “good faith pledges,” signifying that the alliance with Megakles was viable and that the one with Gorgilos had been dissolved. Yet rupture between Peisistratos and Megakles was probably inevitable anyway, since both seem to have wanted political primacy.We note that Megakles realized that the bargain was not being kept before Peisistratos could do anything about it. Discovery of the intact marriage alliance could have proceeded from the disclosure of Peisistratos’method of birth control,as Herodotos says.76 Yet, as we have seen, the story itself is sensational and lacks plausibility. Indeed, it will not do to conclude that Peisistratos or Megakles entered into the Alkmeonid marriage alliance blindly and for the reasons that Herodotos states or that Peisistratos would have blatantly (or guilelessly) insulted such a key politician, one on whom he depended for his own power in the short run by actually having illicit sexual relations with his daughter. (Again, what was the source for this information?) Contrary to what Herodotos says, such abuse would have been obvious from the outset, the marriage alliance nullified instantly, and Peisistratos out in the cold again almost before he had come in. The sexual insult story may well be stock, introduced by Alkmeonid sources to corroborate their “tyrant hatred” later (cf. chapter III..C). (It is just possible that Peisistratos simply refused relations with the woman altogether or was preemptory in the attentions he paid to her. Possible but very unlikely.) In any case, it has been generally assumed that Timonassa was put off, sent home, or remained in Argos but was, at all events, relegated to some kind of secondary standing (viz., concubine) so that Peisistratos could marry Megakles’ daughter. As we have seen, Timonassa could have re-

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mained married to Peisistratos,and the fact of this marriage—and the failure of the Alkmeonid one—effectively voided the contract with Megakles.77 A continued Argive marriage helps to explain why the Argives sent a force of fighters to Palle– ne– , whereas relegation of Timonassa, the marriage alliance, or the offspring from the marriage to inferior standing by word or deed does not.78 Even if Timonassa died or was finally divorced, Peisistratos must have kept his part of the bargain by fathering children with her—something he apparently did not do with Megakles’ daughter. Gorgilos continued to honor the bargain and support Peisistratos through to the end of the period of the second exile undoubtedly because of his family ties. Maintenance of the interests of Timonassa’s children by Peisistratos—Hegesistratos was made commander of the Peisistratidowned colony of Sigeion in the Troad79—kept the contract between the men and so ensured the Argive appearance at Palle– ne– . Timonassa leaves the picture sometime before Palle– ne– to be sure: she may have died or been divorced on honorable terms in the meantime. Children from the union had nevertheless cemented the association with the Argives. On the evidence, Peisistratos’ second marriage began during his first tyranny (– B.C.E.) and lasted until some time before (perhaps well before) Palle– ne– ( B.C.E.). Peisistratos’ fourth wife, Koisyra of Eretria, married him during his second, much lengthier exile, presumably some years before his return to Attika (see chapter IV..A.).80 More about Timonassa or Peisistratos’ second marriage we cannot say.

 

Peisistratos’ Chronology `

Peisistratid chronology is notoriously difficult to set. Different ingredients, for example, archon dates, vague statements about the tyranny’s length, calculations from these, and presumptions about relative ages, all figure in it, and of course some of these are highly imprecise and open to question. Indeed, apart from the archon dates, which I take to be fixed, other dates are very insecure, and not a few important events may only be fit into ranges of dates.Although the best,most concise,and lucid treatment of Peisistratid chronology remains Rhodes (, –), more may be said about it.The following proceeds from the secure dates of the archon years.

.          It may seem at first odd to proceed from Peisistratos’ death date instead of his birth date. In fact, the former is fixed, while the latter, perhaps not surprisingly, went unrecorded. In combination with the fixed date of his first tyranny, the less fixed date of Peisistratos’ strate– gia, and the description of his death, Peisistratos’ death date will allow for a reasonable calculation of his birth date.Thus, our present chronological hysteron-proteron (later-earlier). AP (.) states that Peisistratos died during the archonship of Philoneos (– B.C.E.).The same author also says (.) that the Peisistratid regime lasted seventeen full years after Peisistratos’death until Hippias was ejected from Athens during the archonship of Harpaktides (–).1 The 

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

total number of years agrees with Herodotos, who says that the tyranny of the Peisistratids lasted thirty-six years, and roughly with Aristotle, who says that it endured for thirty-five years.2 The archon dates, which appear in the Ath.Pol. and pertain to Peisistratos, probably derive from an Atthis and so presumably all but directly from the Athenian archon list. In fact, the date given for Peisistratos’ first tyranny in the Ath.Pol. [.] agrees with the Marmor Parium (Ep. a) whose author dated events according to Athenian archon years and who almost certainly consulted an Atthis. I take these dates to be reliable, concluding that Peisistratos’ death date was anchored to documents (e.g., the archon list) or was well known from oral tradition or both. Peisistratos was a notable war hero, the first tyrant of Athens, after all; the tyranny was established because of the battle at Palle– ne– , and it lasted quite a long time thereafter. In fact, Peisistratos had achieved such fame and notoriety among the Athenians that it would be surprising indeed if his death were not commemorated.3 If no one else, Peisistratos’ successor(s) would have memorialized him, even as the sons of Hippias seem to have marked their father’s death, and these commemorations would have preserved the date of Peisistratos’ death even if an official public record did not survive the Persian invasion of Attika in  B.C.E.4 On the other hand,it seems very unlikely that precisely who succeeded Peisistratos was officially noticed anywhere, that there was a conclusive succession record (e.g., the archon list annotated), or that there was anything to go on outside of reason.The best proof for this is Thucydides, who, although he attests to and enters into a controversy about the successor to Peisistratos (.., ..), cannot himself produce solid evidence about it, let alone documentary evidence. As it is, Thucydides struggles to assert his views in what amounts to a void of information about the succession.5 Annotation to the archon list or any epigraphic document would have clinched his argument;Thucydides can only argue from likelihood about it.The apparent obscurity of the succession, on the one hand, and Peisistratos’ renown among the Athenians, which is portrayed even in the Herodotos’ mid-fifth-century account of Peisistratos’ rise, on the other, suggest that the archon year of Philoneos, was aligned with the death of Peisistratos but was not aligned with the succession. Notice of Peisistratos’ death date could have been an addendum to a version of the archon list, to some other official document, or perhaps to an inscription generated by the Peisistratids themselves that survived into the late fifth century B.C.E.6 It is unlikely, though, given these facts, that



   ’      

Peisistratos’ death date was calculated based on the succession. Rather, the opposite should be true: the “seventeen-year” survival of the tyranny after Peisistratos was calculated from Peisistratos’ death date.

.   Thucydides (..) tells us that Peisistratos died “an old man” (ghraiov~) and AP (.), that he grew old in the tyranny and then died “from sickness” (noshvsa~). Both essentially agree that the circumstances of death were not violent and that he was elderly at the time.7 Thucydides might have derived the information from an addendum to the archon list or another document, from oral tradition, or from calculation based on his knowledge of the tyrant’s age at death, deducing old age from that calculation as fact. AP, who knew Thucydides’ work, could have done the historian one better, prompted by Thucydides’ statement about Peisistratos’ age and from lack of notice of any unusual circumstances attending Peisistratos’ death. On the other hand, the information of the Ath.Pol. might also have derived from another source, independent of Thucydides.8 Lacking further information, AP or that author may have concluded that Peisistratos, old and apparently undisturbed at death, died, as it were,“in his bed” and so “from disease.” No matter what the circumstance, there is general agreement that Peisistratos was old when he died and so that he did not die before old age or violently. A violent end or even an untimely one would not have escaped notice of the oral tradition about Peisistratos in view of the lore about him. Such a death would have emerged somewhere, if only in the resistance myth of the fifth century B.C.E. In any case, it is very difficult to imagine that the Athenians and Thucydides (at least) would have failed to indicate such a death or that either Thucydides or AP would have failed to notice it.9 What was “old” to the Athenians? Solon’s hebdomadic scheme of an Athenian male’s life (F  W), ending in old age, may be taken as a contemporary Athenian view of seniority and is introduced here to help calculate Peisistratos’ approximate age at death and so his birth date.10 According to Solon, for one to die during the tenth hebdomad, that is, after reaching the age of seventy, “would not be untimely” (: oujk a]n a[wro~ ejwn; moi`ran e[coi qanavtou), implying, of course, that to die before that time was premature. Obviously, anyone who had not reached seventy was not yet “elderly.” In fact, consensually, the Athenians seem to have des-

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ignated seventy years as ge– ras, for Plato, in agreement with Solon, sets that age as the time for retirement from public life.11 To have qualified as a gevrwn or, as Thucydides describes Peisistratos, ghraiov~, the tyrant should have reached at least seventy years by –, and that certainly does not stretch credibility.The terminus ante quem for Peisistratos’ birth must thus be fixed no later than ca. / B.C.E., that is, precisely seventy years before his death. On the other hand, since, according to Solon, death usually ensued during the tenth hebdomad, it is reasonable to assume that Peisistratos had not exceeded eighty years in –. Thus the terminus post quem for Peisistratos’ birth may be placed at –, precisely eighty years before his death.12 The approximate range of years for Peisistratos’ birth is thus – to – B.C.E. This range may be further refined.

.      –          A. First Tyranny Year Herodotos (..) states that Peisistratos held the strate– gia before the establishment of his first tyranny, and his first taking of the akropolis must have occurred not long after his victory at Nisaia.13 AP says that Peisistratos’ first tyranny occurred during the archonship of Komeas, that is, in –, and he does so, again, very likely on the authority of an Atthis. Plutarch, perhaps on the authority of Phanias of Eresas, concurs. Either could have drawn directly on an Atthis.14 This agreement and the fact that the tyranny’s beginning is fixed by archon year assure us that the date is valid. Perhaps some one might argue that the obstacles to accepting the validity of this first tyranny synchronism are greater than the death date synchronism, since the former was more remote in time and the first tyranny apparently quite brief. Really, the Athenians’ incentive to “forget” the earlier date was that it marked the first instance of their “slavery,” whereas that marking Peisistratos’ death at least signaled the end of that phase of their oppression.15 Yet Peisistratos’ first tyranny, as Damasias’ before it, was somehow noted perhaps as an addendum to the archon list, to some other document, or to an inscription that survived into the late fifth century B.C.E.16 (It might have been available on the ste– le– adikias, since that document commemorated the “wrongdoing” of the tyrants.) We may rule out the possibility in any case that the first tyranny date of the



   ’      

Ath.Pol. was merely calculated as Peisistratos’ akme– year based on his death year, that is, that he was forty at the time of the first tyranny and so seventy at the time of death. Quite simply, the two dates, – and –, do match up that way. Indeed, the very fact that first tyranny date is unaligned with the death year as Peisistratos’akme– year further enhances its credibility.

2. Strate–gia Dates As mentioned before (appendix C..A.), the Athenians of the Classical period imposed age qualifications on candidates for the strate– gia. Peisistratos’ attainment of the strate– gia before – should be taken to indicate that he was no less than thirty years old at the time of that attainment.17 In fact, it makes more sense that Peisistratos was no green warrior when he arrived during the Megarian war and that he took some time to prove himself to the Athenians, and so that he was some years over thirty when he held the strate– gia. Reasonably, Peisistratos could not have held the generalship any later than –, that is, the year before he became tyrant. Thus, we must antedate Peisistratos’ attainment of thirty to some years before –. This returns us to the Hippias and his birth date. As we have seen (appendix C..A.), Herodotos said that Hippias was very elderly when he reached Marathon in  B.C.E. (.).As we have witnessed, seventy was not considered exceptionally old by the ancient Greeks, and so we should conclude that Hippias was born well before –. On the other hand, his birth should probably not be dated to much before  B.C.E., since that seems to be too far beyond the normal Greek life expectancy range.18 Again, Peisistratos should not have been much under thirty (if at all) at the time of Hippias’ birth, since the normal age for marriage for adult Athenian males in the Archaic and Classical periods was around thirty.19 If we assume that Peisistratos was at least seventy at the time of his death in –, then the terminus ante quem for his birth must be – B.C.E. That would however make him thirty in – B.C.E.—just about the time we would expect him to father his firstborn son, Hippias—and thirty-six or thirty-seven when he attempted the first tyranny.This range thus does not align well with the events of Peisistratos’ earlier career.The conflicts of the Megarian war leading to Nisaia and what led directly to Peisistratos’ first tyranny would all have to be lumped between ca. –

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and –: Peisistratos would have just become thirty at the former date, and he would have been under forty when he took the tyranny the first time.While he would have been a robust fifty-two at the time of Palle– ne– , he would just have made seventy when he died in –. This puts him on the young side of things for his early career and his death age—certainly not impossible. If we adopt somewhat higher dates in the range for Peisistratos’ birth (i.e., – B.C.E.), then he was a general no earlier that  B.C.E. and forty-six or forty-seven at the time of his first attempt at tyranny—rather old, especially when we consider that he not only later survived the rigors of Thrace for a very long time but flourished for nearly twenty years in his renewed tyranny at Athens. His notable conduct in the Megarian war should not have long preceded his attempt to capitalize on it or the de– mos’ willingness to allow him to do so.20 Thus, because of his inferred advanced age at death (let us say ca. seventy-five years), his strate– gia and the victory over the Megarians at Nisaia should be dated perhaps between – and –, that is, between Peisistratos’ thirtieth and thirty-fifth year or around fifty to forty-five years before his death in –. But that would make him ca. sixty-two at the time of Palle– ne– and ca. eighty at the time of his death.Though not impossible, how likely is this, especially since it creates rather a large gap in time between Nisaia and the first tyranny? A midrange of dates goes some way toward solving these problems. If born ca.  B.C.E., Peisistratos would have been ca. thirty in  and ca. thirty-five in ; he would have been forty-two in  and ca. fiftyseven in . (Did his advancing age have anything to do with his return from the north just then?) If we assume that Peisistratos’ victory at Nisaia occurred no great time before his bid for tyranny, then both should have occurred no earlier than ca.  B.C.E.21 We know that he attained the strate– gia before –, that he must have been young enough to survive the harshness and rigors of the north later, and that he was still vigorous enough to have led the Palle– ne– campaign, consolidate his position in the aftermath, and actively govern the Athenians for nearly two more decades before his death. Most attractive of all then is a range of dates between the mid- and lower ranges just mentioned, that is, between  and  B.C.E. for Peisistratos’ birth date. Such dates would make Peisistratos between thirty-seven and forty-two at the time of his first tyranny, between fiftysix and fifty-eight at the time of Palle– ne– ,and between seventy and seventy-



   ’      

five at the time of his death. Of course, while these seem plausible and attractive dates, it must be stated that there is no conclusive evidence for them.22

 .       –  – Herodotos (..) says that the tyranny of the Peisistratids lasted thirtysix years; AP says (.) thirty-five. The archonship of Harpaktides, we know, occurred during – B.C.E. Thus, the reestablishment of the tyranny, and so the battle of Palle– ne– , which preceded it, occurred either in – or –.Some scholars,assuming that Herodotos implies that this occurred before the fall of Sardis, opt for the earlier date. But Herodotos’ chronology is not altogether precise.23 On the other hand, his reckoning of years probably derives from Athenian sources who kept the “reign” of Peisistratos in oral tradition if nothing else: surely, they would have known the date of Palle– ne– .The evidence available indicates that the battle occurred in  B.C.E. and the third and final tyranny was firmly established thereafter. Herodotos (..) states that Peisistratos came back to Attika in the eleventh year after he had been exiled for the second time; AP (.) says the same thing.This means, then, that the Thracian sojourn began—and of course the second tyranny was ended—in  B.C.E. There is no reason to doubt it and that the first two tyrannies were of relatively short duration.

.                The lengths of the first and second tyrannies have given the greatest trouble. AP offers dating, but it contradicts other dates given in the same text. AP says (.) that Peisistratos was expelled from Athens for the first time during the archonship of Hegesias, datable to – B.C.E.24 Of course, this is exactly the date by reckoning for the beginning Peisistratos’ second exile, as we shall see.The author goes on to say that “in the twelfth year” after “these things” (or in – B.C.E.) Megakles summoned Peisistratos back to Athens. (Scholars have generally allowed for the emendation pevmptw/ for dwdekavtw/, [–], but that reading hardly solves the problem.)25 AP (.) also says that in the “seventh year” after this (or –), Peisistratos was expelled again and began his Thracian sojourn. Finally, the

Peisistratos’ Chronology



date of return is given as – B.C.E. (Ath.Pol. .).There is garbling here and something quite amiss with the chronology of the Ath.Pol. Although Herodotos errs with respect to precise chronology—the most famous case, of course, is perhaps his union of Solon and Kroisos— he is to be preferred for the length of time he assigns the entire tyranny before the archonship of Harpaktides, viz., thirty six years.The date for the beginning of the final tyranny must be, by reckoning,  B.C.E.: this aligns with Palle– ne– , and it must have been supplied to Herodotos by his Athenian sources. Since both he and AP agree that Peisistratos was in exile for ten years, we may also assume that the last tyranny began in  B.C.E. and not in  and the last exile ca. .26 Since the date for the beginning of the first tyranny is – B.C.E., this leaves five years into which the durations of the first tyrannies are to be fit. Herodotos states (..) that “not much time” after Peisistratos took the tyranny the first time Megakles and Lykourgos settled their differences and combined to oust Peisistratos. He is even less helpful with regard to the end of the second tyranny, which involved the insult to Megakles’ daughter (..–).While it is reasonably to be inferred from what Herodotos says that at least half a year elapsed before Megakles’ wife asked her daughter why she was not pregnant, the fictive nature of this passage renders such a reckoning shaky indeed: the point of the passage was not chronology.27 On the present evidence, there is no possibility of knowing the durations of the first two tyrannies. On appearances, the second tyranny seems to have been shorter than the first; in fact, Herodotos’ language might be taken to suggest the opposite.All we may say is that the first two tyrannies and first exile are to be fit into the period between – and –.

A Chronological Table of the Major Events in Peisistratos’ Life and His Corresponding Age Range ca. / B.C.E. ca. /

(– yrs.)

ca. /

(– yrs.)

ca. –

(– yrs.)

Birth of Peisistratos First marriage: anonyma (probably Athenian) Advent to Athens (?) Service in the Megarian war (?) Leadership in the Megarian war ending in the campaign leading to Nisaia Birth of Hippias (?)



/* ???

   ’      

(– yrs.)

First tyranny Second marriage:Timonassa of Argos ??? Second tyranny ??? Third marriage: daughter of Megakles ca. / (– yrs.) Rhaike– los enterprise Strymon enterprise ca. /? (– yrs.) Fourth marriage: Koisyra of Eretria Campaign for Lygdamis of Naxos  (– yrs.) Palle– ne– Third tyranny –* (– yrs.) Death of Peisistratos (geraios or old man) * Fixed date in the life of Peisistratos.

 

The Origins of the Herodotean Parties `

If Herodotos’ “plain,” “shore,” and “beyond-the-hills” parties have nothing at all to do with early-sixth-century political realities at Athens, but fifth-century ones, whence do they derive? As we have seen, the “parties” do not align with the Solonian divisions (chapter III..A.).They also do not align in specifics with Kleisthenes’ later political divisions, that is, city (a[sth), inland (mesovgeia), and shore (paravlia): obviously, they do not derive from this arrangement.1 Rather, ultimately Herodotos’ “parties of the plain” (tw`n ejk tou` pedivou),“of the shore” (tw`n paravlwn), and “of the hill” (tw`n uJperakrivwn) must be connected to the myth of Pandion’s portioning of Attika among his sons, the names of which regions are nearly identical.2 In the myth, Pandion divided the lands of Attika among his four sons.Aigeos,the eldest,received (the land) “beside the asty,”which must have included the “plain” nearest it.3 Pallas received the paralia, which we know from Thucydides extended to the south of the city,4 and Lykos received the diakria over toward Euboia.5 Nisos, the fourth son, received the Megarid, which seems to have included Eleusis and the Thriasian Plain.6 Jacoby has pointed out that these are geographical divisions, implying no political organization. However, they may have seemed political to later Athenians viewing their remote “history.”7 Jacoby also suggested with some plausibility that the myth of Pandion’s portioning, the absolute terminus ante quem for whose appearance he dated to the early fifth century B.C.E., had actually come into being much 



               

earlier, during the Megarian war, as legitimizing propaganda to bolster Athens’ claims to Eleusis and the Thriasian Plain.8 Indeed, a “period of acute antagonism between Athens and Megara” would evolve just such exaggerated claims as to the entire Megarid, even as it had the Athenian claims to Salamis.9 Jacoby’s suggestion that the myth was no more than the propaganda of a type noised about during Athens’ war with Megara gains force from the fact that the Athenians failed to follow up Peisistratos’ apparently decisive victory at Nisaia by absorbing any further part of the Megarid.10 Whatever the source, a war cry for Athenians fighting Megara for control of Eleusis and the Thriasian Plain during the early sixth century could well have been:“Four parts of Attika: plain, shore, hill, and Megarid!”It would certainly have been bolstered by the myth of Pandion’s portioning, a terminus ante quem for which might best be fixed during the period of the war. If this war cry or some similar phrase were widely voiced during the Megarian war, became renowned and identified with it and the times and so with Peisistratos, who was most successful in that war, its recollection could evoke the period of the Megarian war for later Athenians and might have become confluent with it in later popular thinking. Indeed, for those looking backward at events in the early sixth century from the vantage point of the fifth century, the geographical portioning of Pandion, less what must have been considered even by the beginning of the fifth century an incredible claim (i.e., “. . . and Megarid!”), might have seemed quite plausible as a veritable arrangement describing politics in prePeisistratid Athens.That arrangement was especially apt for making over into just three credible political divisions,especially if things were,in combination, hazy and meant by their authors not to be recollected clearly.11 (Of course, the three divisions would have gained credibility from their rough agreement with the Kleisthenic divisions as well.) Other information the Alkmeonidai supplied Herodotos about their ancestors, including Alkmeon and Megakles, strongly supports the possibility of a purposeful myth-historical conflation in the case of the Herodotean parties on their part for the historian. Megakles’ progeny related as fact the story of their ancestor’s “wooing of Agariste,” embellished as it is with heroic age overtones, as well as that of gold-laden Alkmeon, who is impossibly linked to the fabulous Kroisos (though not to the lesser light,Alyattes).12 The Alkmeonidai appear to have been as untroubled in passing along to Herodotos even extravagantly altered or embellished facts about men such as Megakles and Alkmeon as Herodotos was in tak-

The Origins of the Herodotean Parties



ing and recording them. Presumably, the same authority that persuaded Herodotos of the Alkmeonid “history” of the tyranny also did so of the validity of these stories.The wooing of Agariste involving Megakles and Alkmeon’s hoarding of Sardian gold, mythical as they were, were flattering to the Alkmeonidai, who were thus shown to have moved in exalted, even heroic company. (As we have seen [chapter II..C], being identified with heroes seems to have been part of the game involving political advancement in the early sixth century B.C.E. at Athens.) A similar kind of “historical” thinking, flattering but also apologetic, helps to account for the Herodotean “parties.” The introduction of the parties simultaneously boosted the Alkmeonids’ prestige by placing Megakles vaguely among the heroic and legendary, while, in doing so, it distanced him (and his genos) from the “silly” de– mos, of which he was actually the (occasional) leader;from Peisistratos,with whom Megakles (and later his genos) had formed an embarrassing partnership (from a fifthcentury perspective); and from tyranny, which Megakles helped to create on two occasions; with which he and his progeny, despite their numerous pleas to the contrary, had collaborated famously and over a long period of time; and to which Megakles himself seems to have aspired.13 This was a decent parlay indeed for the Alkmeonidai, who, as we have seen, had impressed Herodotos very much with the “authority” of their stories.

 

The Site of Rhaike–los `

AP (.) says that Rhaike– los was situated on the Thermaic Gulf and that Peisistratos settled there during his second exile. AP does not say precisely where that was, and there is no further direct evidence about Rhaike– los’ location.The site has never been positively identified.To ascertain more about the location of the site, we must turn to another reference in a nonhistorical source,Lykophron’s Alexandra (–),composed in the early third century B.C.E.: o{~ (sc.Aeneas) prw`ta me;n ïRaivkhlon oijkhvsei molwvn, Kissou` parï aijpu;n prw`na kai; Lafustiva~ kerasfovrou~ gunai`ka~. [(Aeneas) will come here first and settle Rhaike–los By the steep headland of Kissos and the Laphystiai, The horn-bearing women.]1 On appearances, these lines might be taken simply as poetic periphrasis, vague and allusive descriptions of “Thrace” colored with Bacchic overtones. This part of Thrace, which was incorporated into Macedonia in the early Classical period, was especially identified with Dionysos. Kissos means “ivy,”Dionysos’vegetal symbol,and the Laphystiai,the “horn-bearing women,” are obviously bacchants. Kissos and Rhaike– los were real places in Thrace, however, and Lykophron’s references to them are ultimately grounded in fact. 

The Site of Rhaike–los



With regard to Kissos, Xenophon in the Kyne–getikos (.) says that it was “above Macedonia,” and the scholion to Lykophron says that Kissos stood above “Ainos,” which was given its name by Aineias. (Here the scholiast must mean “Aineia” on the Thermaic Gulf, not Ainos, which was situated on the Hebros River in Thrace, many leagues away.)2 In the fourth century B.C.E., Kassandros the Macedonian synoecized Aineia, along with Therme– , Chalastra, and Kissos, to Thessalonike– .3 Now,Aineia and Kissos were obviously proximate to one another, and information about Aineia’s location will obviously pertain to Rhaike– los. Aineia was situated on the eastern side of the Thermaic Gulf, we know, and so must Kissos have been.According to the Roman Livy,Aineia was distant from Thessalonike– about fifteen Roman miles by sea.4 In fact, the site of Aineia has been identified about  km (about  miles) southwest of Thessalonike– at Nea Mihaniona.5 The site occupies a portion of the promontory of Megalo Karabournou, perhaps the “sheer headland” to which Lykophron refers (fig. ).6 Kissos should be near Aineia and on that headland. Indeed, if Lykophron’s information is correct for Rhaike– los, it is to be located near Kissos and Aineia, apparently southwest of Thessalonike– and on or near the “sheer headland” of Megalo Karabournou.The authors of the Athenian Tribute Lists went as far as to equate Aineia with Rhaike– los and that is a reasonable equation in view of the evidence available, as we shall presently see. Edson, and more recently Viviers, however, have denied the identification, arguing that Rhaike– los was not the name of a settlement but of the region in which Aineia was located.7 Peisistratos’ settlement was other than at Aineia. The argument against Aineia as Rhaike– los runs as follows. Lykophron employs a form of oijkei`n (“to occupy” or “to settle”), not oijkivzein (to found), to describe Aeneas’ establishment of Aineia in Rhaike– los. Use of the word oijkei`n differentiates Rhaike– los from other foundations, for which the word oijkivzein is regularly used. According to Edson, Kissos must be Mount Khoriatis to the east of Thessalonike– , since the promontory of Megalo Karabournou rises only  m from the sea and could hardly be called sheer. For Edson, the region of ancient Rhaike– los encompassed an area that included the entire promontory of Megalo Karabournou and so could be said to “stand” under Kissos.According to Edson, Peisistratos’ settlement was not called Rhaike– los and it was not a “true polis”; rather, it was “a fortified village or strong point” in the region called Rhaike– los.8



      –  

Viviers takes up essentially the same line of argument as Edson, rejecting the description of Rhaike– los as anything more than the name of a region where the Peisistratid settlement was located. For him, as for Edson, AP simply did not know the precise name of the Peisistratid site.Viviers identifies the unknown Peisistratid site as Dikaia, a polis between Aineia and Potideia or Aineia and Therme– , whose inhabitants were described as apoikoi “of the Eretrians.”9 Peisistratos’ association with Eretria and Dikaia’s description as Eretrian support the identification.10 According to Viviers, Peisistratos was a mere participant in the settlement of Dikaia (= Rhaike– los). Both arguments are unconvincing, especially because of their treatment of the sources.The scholiast to Lykophron and Stephanos Byzantinos explicitly term Rhaike– los a polis not a “region,” and that is significant enough to require explanation, not dismissal out of hand. Although such a description is somewhat misleading—Rhaike– los was probably not a polis at all but, as Edson suggests, a teichos—it cannot be explained simply as the scholiast’s and Stephanos’ misunderstanding.These authors cannot be thought to have concocted the information they transmit: both merely pass on the designations of Rhaike– los from older sources. Ultimately, what they say about Rhaike– los must have derived from a single, older source since the scholiast and Stephanos use the same word to describe the place.11 What were their sources? Edson and Viviers name the scholion to Lykophron Stephanos’ source, but that is illogical, since it is improbable that Stephanos, who had access to other authoritative sources and used them, would choose the scholion instead of the scholion’s source.There is in fact no proof for such an assumption, which seems to have been the result of mere preference. No evidence or even argumentation are supplied.12 Now, one of the scholiast’s main sources for Lykophron, whether directly or indirectly, must have been the commentary on Lykophron’s Alexandra compiled by Theon of Alexandria sometime in the early first century C.E. In fact,Theon, the “Didymos of the Alexandrian poets,” is specifically named by the scholiast in the passage about the founding of Aineia.13 That scholion states quite explicitly that Aeneas “founded the city of Aineia” (e[ktise povlin Aijneiavda~): there is no mistaking the meaning of ktivzein here.14 Since Aeneas founded only one “city”in these regions, it had to have been Theon, or perhaps his source, who equated Aineia with Rhaike– los.15 In fact,Theon seems to have made explicit in his commentary on Lykophron what was “to be guessed at [sc. by most

The Site of Rhaike–los



readers] rather than understood” in the Alexandra.16 Composed by Lykophron in the second quarter of the third century B.C.E., the Alexandra is described by Sandys as a “strange combination of mythological, historical and linguistic learning, grievously wanting in taste and deliberately obscure in expression.”17 The literary merits of Lykophron aside, it is what he says about Rhaike– los that concerns us here.Working amid the resources of Alexandria’s libraries, Lykophron, who was at least familiar with many other literary works, had nothing before him to prevent him from making the equation of Aineia and Rhaike– los. Indeed,Theon—the implications of his nickname of “Didymos” are clear—apparently had positive reasons grounded in his source(s) to make the equation explicit. Obviously, some source before Lykophron and very likely known to Theon made Rhaike– los and Aineia the same place.What that source said further about the site was of no concern to Lykophron, who was more interested in the allusion that Rhaike– los would produce for his readers. It seems unlikely that Theon could have deduced the equation simply from what Lykophron said. Indeed, for Lykophron, who would hardly have known to make the equation on his own, as for Theon, there must have been an older source that made Aineia and Rhaike– los the same place. The assumption we are to make, then, is that Rhaike– los was known by at least one ancient author before Lykophron to have become Aineia. Presumably, it was a settlement proximate to or at the site of Aineia and was either eclipsed by it or renamed. (Of course,Thessalonike– eclipsed Aineia, Dikaia, and Therme– later.) Aineia’s strength and attractiveness to settlers derived from its commanding position near the entrance to the Thermaic Gulf. Ships stationed there could interfere with sea traffic in and out of the gulf, levy tolls, engage in trade, or ferry goods and passengers across to Methone– (chapter IV.I.B..). Indeed,Aineia not only afforded the possibility of trade with the Thracians living in the region of the gulf but also of descents upon them for the purpose of taking booty. Megalo Karabournou remained strategic and a trading station for the gulf and the Chalkidike– through to the period of Roman rule.18 The Eretrians of Peisistratos’ time were aware of the economic potential of the site that became Aineia. (The whole area of the eastern gulf was studded with colonies in the Archaic period.) They had thorough knowledge of the region and obviously wanted to settle the richest and most promising sites they knew of in those parts.19 Whether or not Aineia was Peisistratid Rhaike– los in fact, the latter must have been very near the for-



      –  

mer, and, in view of Aineia’s later demonstrated wealth, that proximity makes great sense.What Peisistratos and the Eretrians wanted was wealth, and the region taken over by Aineia could supply that. By Lykophron’s time, Rhaike– los was but an obscure name: it was the very kind of name that Lykophron was looking for to include in his “strange work.”20 To Lykophron and Theon, who lived two centuries after Lykophron, both of whom may or may not have known about the Peisistratid presence there, the tyrant’s foundation on the Thermaic Gulf was inconsequential.21 What Lykophron was interested in was Aineias/ Aineia, and both he and Theon had determined that Rhaike– los could be substituted for Aineia. Theon or his source diverged from AP and his source, perhaps an Atthis, whose author, himself uncaring of Aineias’ connection to it, specified that which Peisistratos founded, viz., Rhaike– los. It is important to note, however, that these older sources agree that Rhaike– los/Aineia was from the beginning a place, a foundation and specific settlement, not a region. Indeed, AP, the oldest of all extant sources on Rhaike– los, is quite precise when he uses sunwv/kise (bring together to dwell [in one place]) to describe Peisistratos’ settlement there.22 The word is much more specific than that of Lykophron, who, while he may have adopted poetic license, agrees in essentials with AP about the foundation.That agreement is signaled by Theon’s use of the word ktivzein to describe the foundation of Aineia.The word sunwv/kise in the Ath.Pol. most probably derived from his source, perhaps an Atthis.23 Certainly, the authority of the citation was older than the Ath.Pol.—no one would argue that AP invented his information about Rhaike– los—and, unless it is completely made up, it would have come down from the Athenian tradition concerning Peisistratos.24 The evidence of the Ath.Pol. is obviously to be considered superior here and to be preferred for the foundation of Rhaike– los to that of Lykophron and Theon. In fact, as we have seen, they do not disagree at all. The weaknesses in the arguments of Edson and Viviers are obvious. The distinction Edson strives to make between region and settlement is undermined by his concession that Peisistratos’ Rhaike– los was in fact “a fortified village or strong point.“ Edson thus concedes that what Peisistratos was connected to in the sources was a specific settlement, not a region: of course, this is supported by Lykophron, Theon, Stephanos, and AP, all of whom mention it directly or indirectly.25 Viviers’ identification of Dikaia as Rhaike– los is simply erroneous. It dismisses without rationale

The Site of Rhaike–los



the equation of Rhaike– los with Aineia made in Lykophron and Stephanos and alluded to by Theon, the authority of the latter or his source, and, for that matter, all other testimony putting “Rhaike– los” near Kissos. (Like Edson,Viviers does not deal with AP’s testimony except to dismiss it.) Rather than attempting to explain the equation,Viviers substitutes speculation.All of the ancient testimonies position Rhaike– los near Aineia, and there are no grounds for placing it anywhere south or east of Megalo Karabournou.Viviers himself points out that later on Aineia usually contributed three talents to the Delian League,while Dikaia contributed only one.26 Dikaia was clearly less prosperous than Aineia. Herodotos mentions all cities of any note on the western shore of Palle– ne– toward Macedonia but omits Dikaia from the list. It is no surprise, then, that Dikaia, which was apparently at some distance from the “sheer headland,” was eclipsed by Aineia, even as Rhaike– los was.27 The location of Rhaike– los, on or near the headland of Megalo Karabournou, sheer even at  m, appears to have been quite similar to the other Peisistratid “colonies” of Sigeion and Elaious. Self-sufficient and profitable in their own right, the two sites at the entrance of the Hellespont were favorably located for intervention in the sea traffic moving to and from the Aegean and Euxine Seas.They were also on roadsteads from which cargoes could be ferried back and forth from Europe to Asia.The same held true for the Strymon settlement,albeit to a lesser degree.(There are of course special circumstances with that enterprise: see chapter IV..C.) The conformance of Rhaike– los to the pattern suggests that Peisistratos was looking for particular qualities and potential in colonial sites. Indeed, the commonalities may well extend beyond what is obvious to us. Rhaike– los may perhaps best be viewed as the prototype for the later Peisistratid colonies at Sigeion, Elaious, and other locations in the Thracian Chersone– se; it may also have been the prototype for the Strymon settlement to some degree.

 

Peisistratos and the Purification of Delos ` ACTIONS AND INTENTIONS

Herodotos informs us that, shortly after Palle– ne– , Peisistratos purified the island of Delos, the abode of Apollo and his sister Artemis.That information is corroborated by Thucydides.1 For the purification, all the remains of the dead interred within sight of Apollo’s temple were exhumed and removed from the island.This act undoubtedly earned Peisistratos good repute not only among the Athenians but also among the islanders.2 It was surely designed to impress others in other ways, but its primarily intended audience must have been the Athenians and its message was for them. Four purposes are discernible in the act, especially if, as Herodotos implies, the purification occurred immediately after Palle– ne– .3 First, and most obviously, the tyrant confirmed his piety and implication with divinity, this time with Apollo instead of Athena. (Presumably, implication with his patroness had already been firmly established and accepted.) Both Athena and Apollo were civilizing forces, and, this expressed, special devotion to Apollo would encourage good reaction from the Athenians.4 There is thus a religious/political angle involved. Second,Peisistratos demonstrated to the Ionians and the Athenians that Athens was now to play a prominent role in the mid- and eastern Aegean. According to Andrewes, the purification of Delos was “a notable assertion of Athens’ primacy among the Ionian cities,” and that is a fair statement since the purification was both ostentatious and memorable.5 As it was designed to do, the purification made a lasting impression on the 

Peisistratos and the Purification of Delos



islanders, Ionians, and Athenians, and it is surely to be linked with Athens’ claims to hegemony over the Ionians.6 It may also be linked with Peisistratos’ earlier intervention in Naxos on behalf of Lygdamis. By installing Lygdamis as tyrant before Palle– ne– , Peisistratos had established an ally in a dominating position in the Cyclades, especially with respect to Delos, the hub of the Cyclades and the religious center for the Ionians.7 In this,then, it is also a statement of nationalism and foreign policy. Third, and this follows from the second, we must remember the act’s context.The aftermath of Palle– ne– coincided with Kroisos’ fall and the reduction of the resistant Ionian cities there by the Persians. There were surely dramatic repercussions on the Greek mainland. Kyros’ imperialism, which translated into Harpagos’ assaults against the Ionian cities, had resulted in mass displacements from Teos and Phokaia we know, but will also have caused many other Ionians to flee to Athens, their me– tropolis. At least some will have borne with them stories of Persian might and crimes and with them the fears of Persia’s further designs on mainland Greece.8 As later, during and after the Ionian revolt, disquiet was created by events in Anatolia, but trepidations would only increase with the arrival of the displaced and the telling of their stories. Peisistratos’ purification was thus also something of a statement of assurance, a forward move toward danger, not away from it, in the looming crisis with Persia. Finally, and as a concomitant of these last, events in Ionia allowed a quick-order shifting of the Athenians’ attention away from the defeat at Palle– ne– and the reestablishment of the tyranny toward the trouble overseas, which might involve Athens. Peisistratos accomplished several ends simultaneously by turning the Athenians’ attention toward the east. Primary among his ends may have been to create, if it did not already exist, the image of an impending military crisis and the need for him and his talents, for that would have served him especially well at the beginning of the final tyranny. His reputation for military success had been made for the Athenians during the Megarian war, and he had only lately reaffirmed his luck and penchant for victory at Palle– ne– . With the clouds gathering over Ionia, what did the Athenians need more than a successful military commander who had shown himself at his best in Athens’ last great patriotic war? (We recall here that the Athenians welcomed Miltiades [IV] back to Athens, although he was tyrant in the Chersone– se; acquitted him of tyrannis; and gave him part of the command of the forces at Marathon really because they needed him to fight the Persians. For his success there, they gave him everything he asked for.)



                  

Turning the Athenians’ attention toward the source of potential danger may be viewed as one of Peisistratos’ political masterstrokes. He surely underscored in speech and by the purification what he may have been saying in much plainer terms to the Athenians in the aftermath of the battle of Palle– ne– and what the advent of the Ionian refugees also emphasized: Athens needed him now as never before, and the front line of defense was Naxos and Delos. Who would the Athenians want in command of the defense after all? The Persians, but more the fear of them and their intentions, could well have been less obvious, but important allies of Peisistratos even at Palle– ne– .Thus, with the purification and the attention that it brought to affairs in the east, Peisistratos focused the security concerns of the Athenians directly onto himself. To put it differently, Peisistratos had the opportunity to maximize the crisis affecting the Ionians and in so doing further to cement his position at Athens.That cementing is exactly what Herodotos suggests the purification of Delos was all about. Of course, Peisistratos could have had all of these things in mind simultaneously. All would serve him to gain more rapidly that which he needed to govern Athens over the long term, viz., the consent of the Athenian de– mos. All in all, it was a brilliant political move that almost surely connects to Delos’ later centrality in the Delian League. Indeed, Peisistratos’ demonstration was the first among the Athenians that we know of to acknowledge Delos’ religious and political importance among the Ionians. The island was the political hub of the League in the early fifth century. Peisistratos’ purification of the island shortly after he returned to the tyranny for the last time underscores its importance to the Athenians and Ionians from the mid-sixth century B.C.E.9

 

Sophokles and Herodotos on the Foundations of Tyranny ` OEDIPOUS TYRANNOS  – 

In a brief but furious interrogation beginning at line  of Oedipous Tyrannos, Oedipus harangues his brother-in-law Kreon, who, he suspects, is colluding with the seer Teiresias in the subversion of his tyranny.1 Distraught by apprehension of the imagined conspiracy, Oedipous essentially charges Kreon before the Thebans with grossly underrating his courage and intelligence and finally with ignoring the common conditions necessary for the attainment of tyranny. Oedipous ends by labeling Kreon’s alleged subversion witless, since Kreon is attempting to seize power without the requisite means to do so: a\rÆ oujci; mw`rovn ejsti toujgceivrhmav sou, a[neu te plouvtou2 kai; fivlwn turannivda qhra`n, o} plhvqei crhvmasivn q’ aJlivsketai; [Is it not folly this undertaking of yours, to hunt for tyranny without riches and philoi, a thing procured by mass (of philoi) and money?3] What Oedipous says about the foundations of tyranny in these last lines of his tirade is inconsistent both with the realities of Oedipous’ own path to power and with Kreon’s possibilities even as Oedipous understands and states them in the immediately preceding lines.4 Oedipous’ acquisition of 



            

the Theban tyranny had nothing at all to do with “money” or “philoi;” it came about from himself alone or, rather, from the successful application of his singular intellect. By solving the Sphinx’s riddle, Oedipous destroyed her and so saved Thebes and its people. It was that solution and the bravery that Oedipous demonstrated in applying it that simultaneously alleviated the crisis, demonstrated Oedipous’ royal capacities, and established his right to rule the Thebans; it was that solution, neither money nor “friends,” that earned Oedipous the tyranny.5 What Oedipous really fears is that Kreon, with Teiresias’ help, has concocted a similar “solution” for the current crisis. By naming Oedipous as Laios’ killer and having the Thebans believe it, Kreon can unmake the tyranny of Oedipous.At the same time, by thus demonstrating his own capacity and the gods’ favor in determining the pollutant, Kreon can win public approbation and immediately take over the power of the fallen, now godforsaken Oedipous. (In fact, at the end of the tragedy, that is exactly what Kreon does.) The conditions for creating, maintaining, or usurping tyranny at Thebes in these and former circumstances are made explicit for the audience much earlier in the tragedy. At the outset, the suppliant chorus reminds the audience of Oedipous’ eminence in the former crisis involving the Sphinx by invoking it for solving the current one (–).6 Later, Oedipous himself recalls what he has done when he angrily taunts Teiresias for the seer’s failure during that crisis (–). Once more, before these lines, the chorus notes Oedipous’ redoubtable wisdom, which formerly vanquished the Sphinx (–). Finally, just before he angrily delivers his prescription for attaining tyranny, Oedipous asks Kreon sarcastic questions: did he see in him some deficiency of wits (mo–rian), or did Kreon think that Oedipous did not notice Kreon’s plan “creeping forward craftily” (–)? Oedipous means to indicate to the all-important audience of Thebans that he is still the thoughtful, clever man that he was before and that he can and will demolish the conspiracy using his superior intelligence.Thus, intellect is key to the politics of the play; throughout the play, there is never a mention of “money” or of “philoi.” Certainly by line  of Oedipous Tyrannos, Oedipous, the Thebans, and the Athenian audience are all quite aware of the realities of the political game at Thebes. It is exactly that intellectual eminence of long ago that Oedipous strives to reassert throughout the play by systematically searching for the real murderer of Laios; it is the same eminence that Kreon might establish by scapegoating the king as that murderer, ending the cri-

Sophokles and Herodotos on Tyranny



sis and deposing Oedipous—or so the tyrant fears.7 It is crisis-solving ability that the suffering Thebans require as a remedy for their present wretchedness and that Oedipous well knows he must demonstrate anew if he is to survive as tyrant. It is the same ability that Kreon must also demonstrate if he is to replace Oedipous as ruler of Thebes.Power,money, or philoi cannot buy or coerce the ultimate truth: Oedipous’ painstaking investigation and Kreon’s alleged conspiracy may proceed by wit alone, not by force. Thus, lines – do not conform to Oedipous’ path to tyranny, to his own current efforts to keep it, or to Kreon’s possible path to it.The sentiments expressed are thus tangential to the plot and fit in really only as a taunt based upon a generality. By stating a general rule about tyranny that he alleges Kreon does not know as his parting shot, Oedipous asserts the superiority of his own intelligence to his competitor’s intellect in the presence of the crucial Theban audience.8 Spoken outside of the immediate context of the plot, the generality nonetheless carries the imposing force of a self-standing truth. In fact, it has long been recognized by Sophoklean scholars that these lines more generally describe the conditions under which Greek tyrants acquired their tyrannies than they apply to the circumstances of the tragedy’s plot.9 According to Jebb,“Soph(ocles) is thinking of the historical Greek tuvranno~, who commonly began his career as a demagogue.”10 Dawe, on the other hand, narrows the generality to Athenian tyranny, and that is undoubtedly correct.11 Both the author and audience of Oedipous Tyrannos naturally knew the Athenian form of tyranny best, and Sophokles could count on the Athenians easily to recognize the validity of such a gnomic formula if it referred to the tyranny of the Peisistratids. The assumption is corroborated to some extent by Thucydides, an Athenian himself, who observed that a surplus of money was generally requisite for the rise of Archaic tyrannies throughout Greece (..).12 The observation was grounded in Thucydides’familiarity with Peisistratid tyranny but broadened by him to include Greece generally.13 Thus, while the sentiments that Oedipous expresses in lines – do not apply to his own case or to Kreon’s, they do reflect what appears to be common fifth-century Athenian opinion that in times past tyrannies were founded upon superior wealth, specifically the formula used by Athens’ tyrant, Peisistratos, to found his tyranny.14 Oedipous’ declaration, however, is more comprehensive than Thucydides’ narrower economic formula, perhaps something the historian dis-



            

tilled for himself from more general Athenian or Greek opinion.15 Not surprisingly, the repeated citations of “money” and “philoi” as tyranny’s prerequisites more closely match Herodotos’ accounting of Peisistratos’ rise to the tyranny at Athens (.–).16 In that account, as we have seen, Herodotos says not once but repeatedly in quite a short space that “money” (chre– mata: .. twice, ., ., .; dotinas (gifts): .) and “philoi” (= “allies” or “partisans”) (mistho– toi: ..; andres (men): .; stastio–tai: .; alloi te ek tou de–mou (those from the city): .; epikouroi: .) achieved Peisistratos’ victory at Palle– ne– ,“rooting” the tyranny once for all.17 For Herodotos—or, rather, for his Athenian source(s)—overwhelming resources of money and philoi were requisite to Peisistratos’ foundation of his final, enduring tyranny (cf. chapter IV..B.). Like Thucydides, the Athenians rather naturally extrapolated to generality from what they knew of their own tyrant’s path to power.The correspondence of lines – of Sophokles’ Oedipous Tyrannos with the emphatically stated formula in Herodotos is obvious, and Herodotos and Sophokles were informed as to the foundations of “tyranny” by a common pool of Athenian informants about it. That same pool should also account for the way in which both expressed those requisites for tyranny’s foundations.The salient characteristic of lines – is expressed by the repetition of “money” and “philoi.” Similarly, the distinguishing feature of Herodotos’ treatment of foundation at Athens is his repeated references to money and allies/philoi.18 Of course, the repetition in Herodotos supplements the main theme of the account, the irresistibility of Peisistratos’ tyranny, a theme produced by the Athenians to forgive their ancestors for failing to defeat the tyranny or to overthrow it once it had been established.19 By the time of Oedipous Tyrannos, the “roots” of Peisistratid tyranny were accepted by the Athenians as historical.20 The reasons for such a noncontextual insertion into Oedipous Tyrannos seem obvious. By deploying this history at lines –, Sophokles could further engage the audience in the drama. Employing such a “zooming device” would produce the effect of bringing the world of the tragedy nearer to the audience’s own experiences and assumptions.21 The desired effect from the insertion,which one imagines was not an isolated instance, was to envivify the otherwise mythical and remote dramatis personae of tragedy, re-creating them with such details, as a painter would add brush strokes, into more recognizably human and therefore lifelike characters who became at once more interesting and more accessible to the Athe-

Sophokles and Herodotos on Tyranny



nian audience. By grounding them in what the Athenians took to be historical and familiar fact, Sophokles could endue the character of Oedipous, as well as the scene, with greater credibility and so increase the dramatic moment. It was a quite natural tactic, effective here in making the fictional tyrant more “historical.” It is not unreasonable to imagine that Sophokles further used Athenian conceptions about their own tyrants and tyranny in his depictions of individuals such as Oedipous and Kreon.22 By all accounts, Peisistratos, like Oedipous, was reckoned a surpassingly intelligent man who used his intelligence to acquire and to maintain his tyranny.23 His son Hippias, also clever according to Thucydides (..), was said by Herodotos, again obviously on Athenian authority, to have dreamt he slept with his own mother.24 Sophokles’ reference to Peisistratos’ tyranny here suggests that there may be many more tangible reflections of Athenian conceptions of their own tyrants and tyrannies in the plays of Sophokles and, very possibly, in those of the other Attic tragedians.25

Notes `

  . Cf. Ostwald , :“Our knowledge of details (sc. of the tyranny) is agonizingly sketchy.” Of course, it is possible to think that the ancient historians who preserved information about the tyranny were not interested in recounting its history and so had their own reasons for saying little. In point of fact, whether they wanted to say more or not, they all seem to have had very little to go on (this is discussed in more detail later in this chapter). The importance of the Peisistratids for fifth-century Athens is considered intermittently in Boedeker and Raaflaub ; and Morgan a. Much of what follows in this chapter is based on Lavelle . . Very many examples of Attic fine ware have been discovered in overseas contexts, but whatever the extent of the foreign market the domestic one had to have been most important to Athenian potters and painters: they lived and worked in Athens after all, and it formed the artistic context for their work and the basis of their livelihoods.Yet how is it at all possible to conclude anything substantial about the relation of the pottery industry to Athens’ general economy in the Archaic period? Cf. Sansone , , but cf. also Lavelle a, , n. . Remains of sculpture from Attika dating to the latter part of the sixth century do, however, seem to indicate an expanding domestic market for art, as do akropolis dedications (cf. nn.  and ). On the architectural remains of the period cf. n. . . Cf. Shear ; Snodgrass , ff. and – (though I think wrongly attributed to Solon); Frost , –; Hurwit , ff.; and Lavelle , . . Cf. n. . . On Athenian sculpture of the period cf. Boardman , ff.; and Ridgway , –, –, –. On Athenian vase painting cf. Osborne , ff. On the akropolis dedications, cf. Frost , –; and de Libero , –. Cf. also Stroud , –; and Parker , ff. For a general overview of art for the period, see Hurwit , ff. Cf. also Shapiro ; and nn.  and . . Olympeion: Arist. Pol. b (cf.Wycherley , ff.). Altar of the Twelve Gods:Thuc. .. (Wycherley , ff.; Crosby ; Camp , –; Camp 



     –

, ). Altar of Apollo Pythios: Thuc. .. (Wycherley , –; Lavelle b). Enneakrounos: Thuc. .. (Wycherley , –; Camp , –). Cf. de Libero , –, for a synopsis of Peisistratid era buildings; cf. also Shear ; Camp , ff.; and Parker , –. On Peisistratid patronage of poets, see n. . Cf. also Sancisi-Weerdenburg b, : “Without the evidence of historiography, we would never have guessed that either Peisistratos or the Peisistratids had played a leading role in Athenian politics or cultural life.”While we would obviously know next to nothing about any figure from Athenian history without the evidence of historiography, the documentary evidence, such as the Athenian archon list (see n. ) and the Apollo Pythios inscription (IG I3 ; Lavelle b; Dillon and Garland , ; de Libero , , ; cf. also Arnush ), contradicts the assertion at least for the younger Peisistratids. . On the presence of renowned poets in Athens, such as Anakreon of Teos and Simonides of Keos, cf. Ath.Pol. .; (Plato) Hipp. c; Ael. VH .; Lasos of Hermione– (Hdt..;Paus...);and the actor Thespis (Mar.Par. Ep.).Cf.Podlecki , ff.; Podlecki , , –; and Rhodes , –, on Anakreon and Simonides. Both Anakreon and Lasos seem to have drawn pupils, such as Aeschylus (cf. schol.Aqs. Prom. M. [cf. Podlecki , , n. ]) and Pindar (cf. schol. Pind. Olym. .b [cf. Podlecki , ]). (See also Vit.Pind. .. on Agathokles and Apollodoros, apparently Athenian teachers of Pindar.) Cf. de Libero , . Although Rhodes (, ), designates him a poet, Herodotos (..) calls Onomakritos a crhsmolovgo~ (oracle monger; cf. de Libero , ). On Homer, Homeric recitals, festivals, and the Peisistratidai, cf. Davison ; de Libero , –; Ford , ; and n. . . Cf., for example, Raaflaub , .While Kleisthenes realigned the tribes (albeit after the manner of his tyrant grandfather: cf. Hdt. ..; and How and Wells ,.,who misunderstand Herodotos thoroughly here), redistributed power,and was credited by some with effecting other reforms such as ostracism (cf. Ath.Pol. .–.;and Rhodes ,–;cf.also Ostwald ;and Hansen ,–), the festivals of the tyrants, including the nationalistic Greater Panathenaia (cf. Simon , ff.; and Morgan , –), continued to be celebrated just as before, their messages apparently unaltered: cf. Simon , ff.; Parker , ff.; and Maurizio , ff. . Thuc. ..: ta; de; a[lla aujth; hJ povli~ pri;n toi`~ keimevnoi~ novmoi~ ejcrh`to. . . . Hdt. ..: ou[te tima;~ ta;~ ejouvsa~ suntaravxa~ ou[te qevsmia metallavxa~ (cf. also nn.  and ). AP (.) says that the laws of Solon had “disappeared through the tyranny because of lack of use” (ajfanivsai th;n turannivda dia; to; mh; crh`sqai).This is surely a rationalization at least partly intended to explain why Kleisthenes introduced changes to Athens’ government, as well as when he did it. Cf. Rhodes (, ), who judges the passage in Ath.Pol. to be simply wrong. Cf. also Ostwald , . See also chapter III, nn. –. . Hdt. ... Cf. chapter III..A.– and B; and Hammer , –. On the more precise operative definition of demos used in this volume see chapter III .A.. . The “watershed” mentality about the establishment of the democracy is nicely summed up by Ober (, ):“I shall go one step further out on the limb

Notes to Pages –



by suggesting that the moment of the revolution, the end of the archaic phase of Athenian political history, the point at which the Athenian democracy was born, was a violent, leaderless event: a three-day riot in / that resulted in the removal of Kleomenes I and his Spartan troops from the soil of Attika.” Cf. also Ostwald , –. For a view opposing this type of mentality, see Hammer . (While certainly on the right track, Hammer nevertheless does not go far enough with the thesis.) For some creditation of the Peisistratidai and the persistence of “tyranny” in Classical Athens, cf. Stanton , ff.; and Kallet , –. . IG I3  (SEG , ). Cf. Meritt ; Cadoux , –; Bradeen ;Alexander –;Thompson ; McGregor and Eliott ;White ; Kinzl a; Stahl , –; Lewis , –; Raaflaub , –; Develin , ; Dillon and Garland , –; and de Libero , , n. , –. Cf. also Stanton , –; and Lavelle , , n. . . Cf. chapter V. . Hdt. ... Cf. also Moles , –; and n. . Moles () calls Herodotos’ account of Kleisthenes “unenamoured.” . Hipparchos’ archonship: Dion. Hal. .. (Cadoux , ; Develin , ); cf. Davies , ; Rhodes , –; and Lavelle , . Leader of the tyrannist faction: Ath.Pol. .; cf. also n. ; and Ghinatti , ff. . Ath.Pol. .; Rhodes , –; cf. Lavelle b,  , nn.  and ; and Dillon and Garland , –. . Miltiades as a cooperative of the tyrants and archon for – B.C.E.: see n. ; cf. Cadoux , –; Stahl , –; Lavelle , ff.; Cawkwell , –; and de Libero , –, –. See also n. . . Hdt..–;Corn.Nep...– (= Ephoros).Cf.Lavelle c,–;, , nn. –. Herodotos (..) notes that Miltiades was “chosen by the de– mos” to be war leader (strate–gos). He had in fact been acquitted of tyranny. On the life and career of Miltiades, see Berve ; Bengston ; and Kinzl . Cf. n. . . Cf. Sancisi-Weerdenburg b, –, who alludes to the “half-known and unknown prominents who erected statues and other insignia of their status in temples and graveyards.” . Areopagos: cf. Badian ; Karavites , ; and Lavelle , ff. Cf. also Wallace , ff., who is rather more cautious about the nature of the Areopagos after the tyrants. That the Council was still a very significant political body through the first decade of the fifth century is proven in any case by, for example, the archonships of Hipparchos,Themistokles, and Aristeides. . The implication of Persians and Peisistratids is made by Miltiades in his speech before Marathon (Hdt. ..). Obviously, these invented words find context well after the fact of the battle, but they do reflect the official coupling of barbarians and tyrants in fifth-century Athens. Cf. Csapo and Miler , . See also nn.  and . . Cf.Aesch. .; Plut. Them. .; and Kim. .–.. Cf. also Lavelle , , n. ; Boedeker , –; Hölscher , ; and Kallet , . . Hdt...: to; me;n ÆAttiko;n katecovmenovn te kai; diespasmevnon ejpunqavneto oJ Kroi`so~ uJpov Peisistravtou. The agent of both participles must be Peisistratos: cf. Bornitz ,  and , n. ; McNeal , –; How and Wells , .; contra Petzold , . Cf. also Lavelle , , n. . See also n. .

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     –

. “Bad” tyrant as stock: cf. Rosivach , –; and Lavelle , –. See also n. ; and chapter III, n. . . In the case of the Peisistratids, the latter charges most explicitly apply to Hipparchos’“pass” at Harmodios (Thuc. ..–, ) and to Hippias’ paranoid reaction after Hipparchos’ death (Thuc. ..).These, taken together with Herodotos’ testimony (see n. ), suggest a tradition of “evil” attaching to the Peisistratids. On the “Debate on Government” (Hdt. .–), see, for example, Lateiner ; Cassola ; and Raaflaub , –; cf. Hansen a, ff.; Hansen b, ; cf. also Stahl , , n. ; and Lavelle , , n. . . Cf. Lavelle b, ff.; and , ff. . Hdt. ..: hJ turanniv~ pro; ejleuqerivh~ h\n ajspastovteron; cf. chapter IV..B–C. . ejpiv te toi`si katestew`si e[neme th;n povlin kosmevwn kalw`~ te kai; eu\. (Cf. Kallet , ; and nn.  and .) While this contradiction and the mention of Peisistratos’ distinguished record during the Megarian war (Hdt. ..; cf. chapter II..B.–C) do not reverse the generally negative overtone in Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise, they nevertheless illustrate the Athenians’ apparent double-mindedness about Peisistratid tyranny: cf. chapter III..B and n. . Cf. also Morgan a. . Cf. Lavelle , –; see chapter III..A.–. . Cf. nn.  and . . Thuc. ..: thvn te povlin aujtw`n kalw`~ diekovsmhsan kai; tou;~ polevmou~ dievferon kai; ej~ ta; iJera; e[quon. Cf. also nn.  and . . Thuc. ... Lavelle a; , –. . Cf. Rhodes , –; and Lavelle , . . Cf. Lavelle , –. . Cf. Bengston and Bloedow , :“The rule of Peisistratus rested upon illegal force.” On the tyrannicide cult, see for example, Taylor ; Gafforini ; Schlange-Schöningen ; Boedeker , , –; and Raaflaub , –. Cf. also Lavelle , ff. and n. ; Lavelle , – (the last three with further bibliography); and Dillon and Garland , –. . Cf. Lavelle , –. . Cf. ibid., . Cf. also Hdt. .: the word levwn used to address Hipparchos by a beautiful dream-apparition in the first line of the couplet is complimentary and suggests royal status. The prophecy that those who will harm him will not escape punishment in the second line is a very surprising sentiment, running counter to what the tyrannicide tradition and cult imply (cf. Dover , ). Cf. How and Wells , .; Lavelle , –; and Moles , – (on the Alkmeonids). Cf. also nn. , , and . . Cf. Isok. .; and Lavelle , , n. . See also n. . . Cf. Lavelle , , n. . See also n. . . Lavelle , ff. . Important for certain aspects of the Peisistratid tyranny but not comprehensive is Toepffer . Cornelius’ work () is comprehensive but somewhat vague and not at all probing. Schachermeyr’s pieces (a, b), while pithy and fundamental, are, after all, Pauly articles. De Libero’s treatment (, –) is part of a much larger work on Archaic Greek tyranny. Smith’s little book () merely

Notes to Page 

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skims the information about the Peisistratids, as does French . Cf. also SancisiWeerdenburg ; and n. . . Noteworthy exceptions are Kinzl a, –; Stahl ; and, to a lesser degree, Sancisi-Weerdenburg . . Cf. Martin , –; and Orrieux and Pantel , . Some scholars, for example, have taken Phye– ’s famous “ride” (Hdt. ..–) to be implausible on the authority of Herodotos: cf. Beloch , ..; Schachermeyr b,  (“Die Phyegeschichte, so unwahrscheinlich sie auch in der überliefertern Form ist”); Schreiner ; and de Libero , . Others, by the same token, accept it as plausible. Cf. Berve , .; Connor , –; Rhodes , –; and Blok . See chapter III..B. Some construe Herodotos’ designation of Peisistratos’ first bodyguards as korune–phoroi (“club-bearers”) (..) quite literally: emulating Herakles, Peisistratos was accompanied by a bodyguard bearing clubs. Cf. Boardman , , ; McGlew , ff.; K. Cavalier –; and Ferrari –. (I have always thought that Herakles, who most times traveled alone, carried his own club.) These do not give weight to the fact that the usual term for a Greek tyrant’s bodyguard is doryphoros (“spear-bearer”) and so the ramifications of Herodotos’ (source’s?) failure to use it. Herodotos’ use of korune–phoroi therefore cannot simply be accepted (so Singor , –; cf. also chapter IV, n. ) but must be explained: cf. Lavelle , –, n. ; and chapter III..C. and nn. –. . Cf. Lavelle , ff. . “Tyranny”perhaps became less odious around the time when the Athenians realized that they were in fact exercising a tyranny over their former Delian confederates (cf. Hunter ; Connor ; McGlew , ff.; and Kallet , ). Later, especially during the final stages of the Peloponnesian war,when imposition of tyranny seemed to the Athenians a very real possibility, the word may have conjured fear and brought the Peisistratid tyranny into renewed execration (cf., e.g., the exception of the Peisistratidai from the general amnesty after the Sicilian debacle: Markel. Vit.Thuc. ). The ancient rhetoric leveled against the Peisistratids seems to have been trotted out and duly linked to those currently most suspected of sedition and treachery. Cf. Lavelle , , ; and , ; and Raaflaub . Cf. also n. . . Andrewes, whose nearly fifty-year-old book on Greek tyrants () is still very valuable, portrays tyrannis thusly ():“A tyrant, in these Greek terms, is not necessarily a wicked ruler, but he is an autocrat (and generally a usurper) who provides a strong executive. The traditionally wicked kings of English history, like John, are not the best examples of tyranny: a closer analogy would be given by Henry VII, whose powerful centralized government was acceptable because of the chaos of the Wars of the Roses.” He also goes on to adduce Cromwell, Napoleon, and Mussolini. But fifteenth-century England and the “Wars of the Roses” (as well as Puritan England, Revolutionary France, and Fascist Italy) may not be paralleled in any meaningful way with seventh- and sixth-century Greece and events there. Henry Tudor, like other modern “tyrants,” is not a very good example for Archaic Greek tyranny, and in fact there are, unfortunately, no models to be adduced for them. Cf. Chirot (, –), who is not concerned with ancient Greek tyrants but nevertheless demonstrates the inaptness of even Roman emperors for comparison with them. A



     – 

sounder, better contexted description of Archaic Greek tyrannies and tyrants is given in Orrieux and Pantel , –; and Pomeroy et al. , –. . Cf. Lavelle , ff. . On Herodotos and his historical methods, cf. Jacoby ; Dewald and Marincola ; Flory ; Hartog ; Fehling ; Lateiner ; Dewald , ix–xli; Romm ; and Bakker, de Jong, and van Wees . . Birth date (ca.  B.C.E.):Aul.Gel. . (which, although perhaps an Apollodoran calculation, should be at least approximately correct). Life: Suida s.v. ïHrovdoto~. Cf. How and Wells , .–; and Jacoby , ff.According to the Suida, Lygdamis, the grandson of Artemisia and tyrant of Halikarnassos, was the cause for Herodotos’ exile. Halikarnassos is listed in the first Athenian Tribute List (– B.C.E.), a fact that suggests that Lygdamis was gone from the city by then at the latest (but cf. Meiggs and Lewis , ). See also nn. –. . Cf. Diyllos FrGrHist  F  (= Plut. de Malig. Herod.  a–b); cf. How and Wells , .–. Cf. also Podlecki (), who discusses Herodotos’ travels with specific reference to Athens. Podlecki is skeptical of Herodotos’ coming to Athens and suggests that Herodotos could have obtained his information about Athens from Athenians at Thourioi, where he later settled. Podlecki is not alone in thinking that Herodotos may not have come to Athens, although ancient testimonia—and Herodotos’ own (e.g., ..; cf. How and Wells , .)—give grounds for believing that he did.There is actually a good deal in the Histories to suggest high-level Athenian informants, among whom may well have been Perikles himself (cf. chapter III, n. ).There is on the other hand no compelling reason to think that Herodotos did not visit Athens. Cf. nn.  and . . Athenian bias: cf. How and Wells , .–; Demand ; and Romm , –. Cf. also nn.  and . Thourioi: Suida s.v. ïHrovdoto~; Steph. Byz. s.v. Qouvrioi.; cf. Arist. Rhet. ..; Evans , –; de Selincourt , –; and Romm , –. . On Sophokles and Herodotos, see Plut. Mor. b. Cf. How and Wells , .; Brown , ; Hart , ;Waters , ; Evans , , ff., ; and Finkelberg . For a list of “shared” passages, see Podlecki , –. Myres (, ), however, doubts such linkages. See also appendix H. . Terminus post quem of  B.C.E.: Hdt. .., on the seizure and execution of Aristeas of Corinth (cf. How and Wells , .–, .–). Cf. also Thuc. .., ..; and Hornblower , –. Terminus ante quem: Ar. Acharn. –; cf.Wells , –; Sansone ; Cobet , –; and Evans , –. Fornara (, –) proposed a terminus, ca.  B.C.E., but his arguments, based on reference to Herodotos in Acharnians, are not compelling. . On Herodotos’Alkmeonid bias, see further Lavelle , , n. , and –, nn. –; and , – and n. . Cf. chapter III..A.– and nn. –. . Cf. Jacoby , ; Lavelle , , n. ; and Lavelle ,  and n. . Pace Forsdyke , –.While there are traces of several traditions in the “history” of Peisistratid tyranny, Herodotos seems to have followed, in the main, the accounts of the Alkmeonidai; cf. n.  and chapter III, nn. –. . Cf. Lavelle . Gray  tries to explain the logos on Peisistratos’ rise as “made up of conventional narrative episodes, sometimes with supernatural elements. Yet the contexts of power in which Herodotus sets it determine its shape, and the

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contextual reading of the story reveals allusions to contemporary debates and realities.” Cf. also Moles (, –). Cf. appendix C, n. . . Cf. Lavelle , , n. , and , n. ; and , . . Cf. n. . . Jacoby , ff.; Lavelle , ff. Cf. chapter III..A.. . Cf. Lavelle , , ff.; , ff. Cf. chapter III..A.–. . On Thucydides, cf. Cornford ; Hunter , ; Connor ; and Hornblower . . tuvrannoiv te o{soi h\san ejn tai`~ ïEllhnikai`~ povlesi, to; ejfÆ eJautw`n movnon proorwvmenoi e[~ te to; sw`ma kai; ej~ to; to;n i[dion oi\kon au[xein diÆ ajsfaleiva~ o{son ejduvnanto mavlista ta;~ povlei~ w[/koun, ejpravcqh de; oujde;n ajpÆ aujtw`n e[rgon ajxiovlogon, ei[ mh; ei[ ti pro;~ perioivkou~ tou;~ aujtw`n eJkavstoi~.This statement was made with obvious regard to the Peisistratids: cf. Zancan –, ; Gomme , ; Hornblower , ; and Lavelle , –. Cf. also appendix H. . Cf. Gomme , ; Kinzl , b; Hornblower , ; and KalletMarx , –. . The akoe– (tradition) Thucydides mentions at .., on which he apparently founded his firm belief in the seniority of Hippias (if it was not simply calculated from Hippias’ persistence as tyrant in the aftermath of Hipparchos’ murder), is nevertheless not explained by the historian (cf. Dover , ). Because it detracts from the tyrannicide and what it was thought popularly to have accomplished, however, it seems likely to have derived from sources sympathetic to the Alkmeonids and their claims to “liberating”Athens,if not from the Alkmeonids themselves.Cf.Jacoby , ff., , n. , and , n. ; Lavelle ; and Lavelle , , n. , and , nn. –; cf. also n. . . Lavelle , , n. . . Lavelle , –; but cf. Zizza , – (and more generally on Thucydides’ use of epigraphic evidence relating to the tyrants). Cf. n. . . Thucydides’ information about Archedike– , the daughter of Hippias (..; Lavelle b) and the tyrant’s subsequent movements outside of Athens after his expulsion may have derived from Charon of Lampsakos, not from Athenian tradition: cf. Dover , ; and Möller , –. Most of Thucydides’ account of the tyrannicide must derive from Athenian sources. In fact, it has at its bases, perhaps rather surprisingly, the popular versions of the tyrannicide: cf Miller ; and Lavelle , –. . Pesely () has argued for the identification of the Oxyrhynchos Historian as the source for the information in the Ath.Pol. about the tyrants that exceeds that of Herodotos and Thucydides.That there is plausible supplemental information about Peisistratos and the tyranny in the Ath.Pol. is shown in the case of Rhaike– los (.; cf. chapter IV..B and appendix F). Herodotos alludes vaguely to a Thracian sojourn (..), but the author of the Ath.Pol. states, among other things, that Peisistratos moved first to Rhaike– los on the Thermaic Gulf and then to the Strymon region. . Cf. Jacoby , ; Rhodes , –; and Lavelle , –. . Ath.Pol. .; cf. Rhodes , –. . Ath.Pol. .; cf. Lavelle , –. . Cf. Lavelle, ff.; and Pesely , ff.; cf. also n. . . See chapter II..D..



     – 

. Cf., for example, Andokides on Palle– ne– (De Myst. ; cf. chapter IV..C.) or the story of Peisistratos’ sexual abandon in Plutarch (Mor. b–c; cf. Lavelle , , n. , obviously contra Lapini , ff.). Cf. also Lavelle , –. . Cf. chapter II.. . Cf. Lavelle , –; see also chapter III..A.. . I do not say “interpretations” of Solon’s poems, ancient or modern, which of course may or may not be true. It is the poems themselves that contain evidence for political conditions in the time of Solon and Peisistratos: cf. chapter III..A.. . Cf. Hammer () who charts what he (after Weber) terms “plebiscitary” politics. Much of what he says (cf. ff.) certainly fits Peisistratos’ career leading up to the tyranny.These ideas, while along the right track, are not developed sufficiently; cf. n. .

  . Hdt. ..: (sc. Peisistratos) ejdevetov te tou` dhvmou fulakh`~ tino~ pro;~ aujtou` kurh`sai, provteron eujdokimhvsa~ ejn th`/ pro;~ Megareva~ genomevnh/ strathgivh/, Nivsaiavn te eJlw;n kai; a[lla ajpodexavmeno~ megavla e[rga. Cf. also Ath.Pol. . (largely derived from Herodotos: cf. Rhodes , ; chapter II..B.–C. and n. ); How and Wells , .; Legon , , n. ; and Figueira a, . Herodotos, who here publishes one of few positive comments about Peisistratos in his work, indexes the victory’s impact in its day by mentioning it in a climate of great hostility toward the Peisistratid tyranny (see Lavelle ,  ff.; and section II..C). I take the veracity of the statement to be guaranteed, in part, for that reason. On the tyrant’s age, home deme, and other events of his earlier life, see appendices A–D. . Hdt. ..: (sc. Peisistratidai) ejovnte~ de; kai; ou|toi ajnevkaqen Puvlioiv te kai; Nhlei`dai, ejk tw`n aujtw`n gegonovte~ kai; oiJ ajmfi; Kovdron te kai; Mevlanqon, oi} provteron ejphvlude~ ejonv te~ ejgevnonto ÆAqhnaivwn basileve~. Cf. Diog. Laert. .; Paus. .., ..; Str. ..; Toepffer ,  ff.; and Davies , . On the Neleid migration, see Huxley , ff.; Sourvinou-Inwood ; and nn. –. On the Peisistratids and the Athenian Neleid traditions, cf. Cromey –, –; Shapiro b; Robertson ; de Libero , , and section . On Peisistratid prosopography, see Schachermeyr a, –; Davies , ff.; and appendix C. On Peisistratid “nobility,” see nn. , ; section , and appendices B. and C. . Cf. Hignett , . Toepffer (, ff.), suggested that, as the Neleid myth supported Athens’ claim to be metropolis of Ionian cities, it was invented (cf. Robertson , –). Cf. also Berve , .. Robertson, who elaborates extensively on the genesis of Neleid mythology, argues from Toepffer’s lead but largely ex silentio.The reader may well disagree, therefore, with such unsupported declarations as “When the Catalogue was composed,Athens had not yet professed a connexion with the Pylians of old” (, my italics throughout); “In light of the Hesiodic Catalogue, it is impossible to believe that Athenians as early as these [i.e., the seventh century B.C.E.] professed to be Neleids from Pylos” ();“most assuredly the name Peisistratus [sic] did not then evoke any Neleid heritage” (); and “Athens’ claim to be mother city of Ionia is the precondition of Peisistratus’ claim to be a Neleid” ().The question of Robertson’s unsupported insights aside for the moment, how could such claims stemming from the Neleid myths (to which Solon seems obliquely to refer in

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F a) have been offered if they were incredible and fell only on disbelieving ears? If, on the other hand, the claims were credible, how could that credibility have been achieved if the claims and myths were only recently invented? If the myth that grounded such claims was in fact traditional and so potent over time, how is it possible to conclude without any further proof offered that such claims and Neleid namings did not occur well before the seventh century B.C.E.? Finally, why must Athenian tradition depend on the Hesiodic Catalogue, which in any case is built “on inherited material” (West , ). (Indeed, in  B.C.E. the Thessalians offered Hippias rule over Iolkos [Hdt. ..], the ancestral home of the Neleid Hippias, according to myth [cf. Apollodoros . ff.]; cf. chapter IV, n. . Are we to believe that the Peisistratid-Neleid connection had nothing whatsoever to do with the Thessalians’ offer of that particular place? Cf. Cromey –, –.) Of course, Robertson does not address these issues in his treatment: Robertson’s simple assertions are apparently proof enough for him. The rest of us, however, require rather more substance or at least substantive argumentation. Cf. nn. , , and  and appendix C. . Cf. Ath.Pol. .: ejx ajrch`~ me;n ga;r kai; prw`to~ ejgevneto prostavth~ tou` dhvmou Sovlwn, deuvtero~ de; Peisivstrato~, tw`n eujgenw`n kai; gnwrivmwn. Rhodes (, –), finds Gomme’s suggested emendation (, –, n. ) (tw`n 〈de;〉 eujgenw`n kai; gnwrivmwn 〈Lukou`rgo~〉) attractive, since it brings it into agreement with the following lines by designating a single opponent for Peisistratos (viz., Lykourgos: cf. Hdt. ..).The latter is more reasonably called “of the well born and notable” than the tyrant in this case. But Peisistratos’ (claimed) link to Kodros (like Solon’s: cf. Plut. Sol. .–; Diog. Laert. .; Rhodes , ; and section .C) made him “well born and notable” at least to appearances, and there is no need to emend, even as Rhodes himself admits ():“in this list A.P. seems to be deliberately varying his presentation as far as the material allows.” Cf. Rhodes , , on the Peisistratid-Neleid connection. (de Libero [, , n. ] muses about earlier judgments of the Peisistratid genos as “von geringer Qualität,” but there is no substantial proof that the Peisistratidai either were or were not actually “Hochadel.” Many tyrants seem to have been minor aristocrats or otherwise out of the “mainstream” and so not “Hochadel.” To all appearances, the young Peisistratos was one of these. Cf. n. .) Cf. also n.  and appendix B.. . ..; cf. Ath.Pol. . (Rhodes , –; Chambers , –). On eastern Attika outside “the pale,” see Hdt. .., ., .; cf. Sealey , –; Lewis , –; Lavelle , –; Anderson ; and Hignett , –. There are other indications that inhabitants of the diakria—Herodotos calls them hyperakrioi (cf. Cornelius , –; Lavelle , , n. ; and chapter III..A.. and n. )—were not within the Athenian pale of full participation in Athenian public affairs, even after Peisistratos’ public debut and possibly their own participation in the war against Megara (see section .C). This despite the objections of such as Davies (, –, after Bradeen) that the outlander genos of Philaids (in the person of Kypselos) was already included in Athenian government notwithstanding: cf. appendix C. . Peisistratos’ “outlandishness” may have been enhanced by his detractors, perhaps even well after the tyranny (cf. Immerwahr , , n. ; Lavelle b, ; and Lavelle , , n. ). But the later Peisistratid-led invasions of Attika, both of



     

which began in the diakria, the area beyond Athen’s “pale,” at Marathon (chapter IV..B–C) tend to complement the implications of separateness we find in Herodotos.These, together with the Neleid myths, which emphasize the advent of affines not fully Athenian, and Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ earlier political career (chapter III.), point to the genos’ outsider status.The Neleid connection may in fact be read as an acknowledgment of and an attempt to come to terms with that outsider status (cf. section .A.). . Among those claiming Neleid descent were the Alkmeonidai: Paus. .. (though implicitly denied by Herodotos: .., ..; but cf. Immerwahr , , n. ). Cf. also Davies , ; Solon through Execestides (Plut. Sol. .); and the Dropidai; Plut. Sol. .; Diog. Laert. .; cf. Davies , ).The Philaidai were descended from Philaios, the son of Aias, no Neleid but an immigrant nonetheless: see n. . Cf. Davies , –; and n. . I assume that, like the Ionian migration traditions, which appear to have had at least some basis in fact (cf. Sourvinou-Inwood )—the Athenians did achieve some measure of credibility among the Ionians, it seems, with their claims to mother city status (cf. n. )—the Neleid myths also possessed some basis in fact (cf. nn. – and section .B).The advantages of claims to Neleid ancestry may have been at first greater during the Submycenaean and Protogeometric periods, especially if there was any truth to—or at least credibility for—the idea that newcomers were responsible for saving Athens during the time of troubles following the collapse of the Mycenaeans.The usefulness of such claims may have waned somewhat as the dangers of the Dark Ages decreased and conditions became more settled,but perhaps it increased again when the “Heroic Age” became popular in the later eighth, seventh, and sixth centuries B.C.E. The memories of Pylian immigration might well have been much more vivid in Attic “provinces,” such as Brauron/Philaïdai, than elsewhere, for this was “identity myth” after all (see nn. –).While such a myth may have made its way to Athens to be used for purposes involving political advancement (cf. sections .C and .E), there certainly can also have been some basis in fact: cf. nn. –. (contra Sansone ,  whose suspicions that “the name and role of Peisistratos were fabricated” are baseless.) Hippokrates’ naming of Peisistratos could portray the hopefulness of a provincial with big plans for his son (cf. Hignett , , n. ; Shapiro b, ; and n. ); it was not, however, merely a “fine aristocratic name” (so Robertson [, –], who states that Hippokrates chose the name when he “stood by the cradle”!). Rather the name had considerable political and social potency because of its mythical associations. Contra Robertson, in view of the myth available to the Athenians, the name could hardly be free from Bronze Age associations and connotations: see nn.  and . (It is noteworthy that the name Peisistratos is not in the tradition of “horse” compounds to be found in the generation before and after him: cf. appendix B..) See also n. . . Contra Robertson , , in Peisistratos’ case, any ambition indicated by the name and what it may have entailed could have been entirely Hippokrates’: cf. nn.  and . On the other hand, Herodotos’ assertion that Hippokrates named his son Peisistratos after the son of Nestor (..) could have been inspired by no more than homonymity, since Peisistratos is readily recognizable as the name of one of the sons of Nestor and is in fact the only extant Peisistratid name resonant of Pylian ancestry

Notes to Page 



(cf. Od. .–; Rhodes , ; Shapiro b, ; and appendix C, n. ). Cf. Toepffer , –, n. . Robertson’s statement () that “the name Peisistratus did not then (sc. ca. – B.C.E.) evoke (presumably, among the Athenians) any Neleid heritage” is (once again) asserted on no grounds whatsoever: cf. nn.  and . . Cf. Diog. Laert. ..Accounting for Peisistratos’ tyranny is certainly the point of Chilon’s obviously apocryphal admonition to Hippokrates, the father of Peisistratos (Hdt. ..; chapter III..A; and appendix C..A.), and in fact Herodotos’ entire account of Peisistratos’ rise to the tyranny (see chapter III..A; and Lavelle ). . Cromey (–, –) observes that the archaeological record only weakly supports the Neleid tradition of Bronze Age migration to Attika, and that is true: cf. nn. – and . . Cf. Parker , .There is abundant evidence of late Mycenaean habitation in eastern Attika, and it is reasonable to assume that other Mycenaean fugitives or their descendants came to dwell on the coast or in the hinterland (mesogaia) at the same time as or even subsequent to the settlement(s) around Perati (cf. Iakovidis ; and nn.  and ) and the abandonment of the necropolis there. Habitation is likely around (but not at) Brauron, further up the coast around modern Loutsa and Rafina, and inland west of Porto Raphti Bay around Markopoulo. (Sourvinou-Inwood [ ] suggests the possibility of several influxes of settlers to the region; cf. Coulton ).The dissolution of the Perati settlement(s) after about a century might be taken as indication that there were further movements of small groups to such sites as Philaïdai, away from the perhaps increasingly vulnerable coastline during this Submycenaean period: see appendixes A and B. For Brauron, there are admittedly contraindications of settlement in LH IIIC. The existing Mycenaean site at Brauron was evidently abandoned toward the end of LH IIIB, and there are no signs that the site was reoccupied by any later arriving group of Achaians. However, the builders of the chamber tombs south and east of the akropolis of Brauron may well have moved their abodes away from the vulnerable seacoast and their former settlement to the greater security afforded inland rather than having departed from the region altogether. Late Mycenaeans were at Spata, Ligori, and Kopreza, sites that offered both agricultural potential and the greater comfort of being at some distance from the sea and its uncertainties. Mycenaean fugitives also settled in Euboia. (For a historical summary of Lefkandi, see Popham, Sackett, and Themelis , ff.; cf. Whitley , –; Osborne , – and Lemos , –; cf. also appendix B, n. .) These seem to have come hastily and under some threat: cf. also nn. , , and . . The traditions alone do not corroborate belief in the “Pylian” descent of the Peisistratids, and in fact the notion of Pylian migration to eastern Attika seems at variance with both the tradition and the physical remains of Perati, for Messenian/Pylian cultural artifacts are specifically absent from the excavations there. Philaios was not a Neleid but a Salaminian (cf. n. ). No pure Neleids are found in this eastern Attic migration myth. On the other hand, Philaios’ name may have been the one that survived in memory for settlement of the Brauron region whereas the names of those who led the settlement around Perati did not. Sourvinou-Inwood (, ) observes that the name Philaios appears on a Pylian Linear B tablet (PY Un .), which offers some slender support to the tradition of Neleid immigration: Philaios was the eponym for the Attic deme Philaïdai, and there was perhaps conflation of him with Aias (cf. nn.  and ). (Cromey [–, , n. ] notes that the names



     

Melanthos, Kodros, Neleus, and apparently Alkmaion are to be found on Mycenaean tablets from Pylos.) It is to be observed that the tradition of Late Bronze Age immigration to Attika by those who became Ionians was not doubted by Thucydides (..; .; cf. Gomme , –; Hornblower , , –; and Sourvinou-Inwood , ) or by any other ancient authors (cf. Cromey –, ). It is further supported by archaeological evidence derived from Perati and nearby (cf. Sourvinou-Inwood , ; Iakovidis , –; Cromey –, –; and nn.  and ). Certainly the fact that other gene– ,including the Alkmeonidai,advanced claims to Pylian descent (cf. Paus. .., doubted by Davies [, ], but cf. n. ) suggests that such “traditions” were very acceptable to the Athenians. Cf.Thomas , ff. (It is interesting to note in the context of the Pylian salvation myths [n. ] the epigram of one Diognetos, son of Euadne– tos, of the deme Paiania, which was found not far from the sanctuary of Artemis at Brauron. It commemorates Diognetos’ death on behalf of his city: cf.Themelis .) . The relative anonymity of the Pylians in the company of settlers to the region around Perati may be explained if these were relatively few in number and their “culture” concealed because it was distinct in only few ways.Those who came with Philaios need not have been homogeneous: the band led by Neleus from Pylos is attested, for whatever its worth as evidence, by Diodoros (..) to have been motley (cf. Cromey –,  and n. ).As at Xeropolis-Lefkandi, refugees from different parts of the Peloponnesos may have arrived together as or coalesced into a community (or communities) around Perati after their arrival (cf. Popham, Sackett, and Themelis , ). (Some haste is suggested: cf. n. .) One of the “cultural” distinctions can have been burial type, the variance of which could certainly be taken to suggest that the settlers around Perati were indeed not homogeneous and did not all originate in the same place.Although the overwhelming number of tombs at Perati are of the chamber type, some twenty-seven are cist- or tholos-type tombs or combinations that included cremation burials. These variant burial modes suggest the presence of distinct minorities, which, although their members employed apparently different means for burial and so remained culturally distinctive in that way, were nevertheless settled in among the majority and obviously included within the community. On the basis of the variance, it has been suggested (SourvinouInwood , ) that the minority were the Pylians of the legends, who might have come to the area in a second wave.While the suggestion is plausible, it is not possible to say conclusively that these were in fact the cist grave (or other burial type) users: cf. Cromey –, .Again, the use of cremation by the Perati settlers does not necessarily weaken Iakovidis’ observation that the Perati tomb builders were “pure” Mycenaeans, since cremation appears in Mycenaean contexts before LH IIIC (cf. Iakovidis , –; and Desborough , ). Of course, any other, less distinct cultural differences of such a minority can have become rapidly diluted or vanished altogether within those of the majority, especially if the variances were few to begin with. Cf. n. . (If renowned Pylian seamanship had anything to do with leadership of the Perati settlers,as Sourvinou-Inwood [,–] has suggested,perhaps the Pylians were, or at least were designated, the conveyors of Mycenaean fugitives from the Peloponnesos, some of whom arrived by ship in eastern Attika. On the Pylians as “able sailors and traders,” cf. Sourvinou-Inwood [], who points out [rightly in my judgment]

Notes to Pages –



that the Perati settlers arrived from the sea, although I should not agree on the evidence available that “their main concern was to find good harbours in a new homeland which allowed them to continue their trading activities”[] nor that they were conveyed by the “Pylian fleet” [].We may here take pause with Cromey [–, , n. ] with regard to the Neleid advent myths.) . Cf. Lavelle , ff. . On the precinct of Artemis at Brauron, the site of the Attic de– me Philaïdai, and their proximity and relationship to one another, see Antoniou ; nn.  and ; and appendix A. . Thuc. ..–; cf. Gomme , –; and Hornblower , –. . Hdt. .; Paus. ..; schol. Pind. Nem. .; Plut. Sol. .; Harpok. s.v. ÆEurusavkeion; Steph. Byz. s.v. Filai?dai; and Markel. Vit.Thuc.  Cf. How and Wells , .; Sourvinou-Inwood , – (who denies the connection between Aias and Philaios); Antoniou , –; and Parker , –. Cf. also nn. , , and ; and appendix C, n. . . On the Mycenaean remains at Brauron, see, for example, Coulton , –, with bibliography; cf. Blackman –, ; and –, .The most thorough source for the area of Brauron is Antoniou  (though cf. Giuman ). For Philaïdai, the best and most informative is the (regrettably) still unpublished study of Beck (). Cf. appendices A and B. . Iakovidis (, ) observes that the area of Perati was only sparsely settled before LH IIIC, a fact that supports the conclusion that the Mycenaeans who used the Perati necropolis immigrated hastily and in some numbers around the period just before the general destruction of Mycenaean civilization ca. –/ B.C.E. He also notes () that the earliest grave pottery at Perati (Phase I) corresponds in time to construction of the wall extension at Mycenae and the Cyclopean road wall at the isthmus. These remains are sometimes taken to indicate that the trouble that brought mass destruction to the Mycenaeans in the Peloponnesos was approaching and that they there were preparing for the onslaught with new fortifications. If that correlation is correct—and there is still controversy about them and what brought about the end of the Mycenaeans—then the arrival of the grave users of Phase I at Perati, who seem to have been refugees, appears to be linked to the same threat. Popham and Sackett (, ) conclude that a “considerable influx of population” occurred at Xeropolis and in southern Euboia at about the same time (cf. Iakovidis , ).This tends to corroborate the notion of mass movement of Mycenaeans to destinations along the Attic and Euboic coasts because of threat. Cf. Spitaels , on the possibility of contemporary new settlers at Thorikos. Cf. also n. . . On Perati, see Iakovidis . On the Peisistratid connection with Perati and the tradition of migration to eastern Attika, see Sourvinou-Inwood , ff. Cf. also nn. – and  and appendix A. It is interesting to note that the pottery of MH Mycenaeans of Brauron’s akropolis suggests contact with Mycenaean sites of the Peloponnesos (cf. Blackman –, ; and n. ). . Osborne , . Desborough’s suggestion (, ) that the descendants of the Mycenaean settlers in the area of Perati could have continued their way of life for some time after the disappearance of their cultural artifacts makes a great deal of sense: cf. nn. – and appendix A.



      – 

. Cf.Tomlinson (–, ), who transmits the report of the excavation of a cave in the area of Brauron containing the remains of bears and humans that are twenty thousand years old. See also nn. –. . Cf. Lloyd-Jones , ; and Simon ,  and .Any argument that the cult was imported after the Bronze Age would have to explain, among other things, why a post–Bronze Age cult would involve “Iphigeneia” at all instead of another name less implicated with and significant for Mycenaean culture (cf.Antoniou , –; and Giuman , ff.). It also is difficult to accept that “bear dancing,” for example, was grafted into the system of existing cult practices instead of surviving from a much earlier time. On the “bear ritual” (arkteia), see Antoniou , –; Sourvinou-Inwood ; Cole , ; and Giuman , –. Cf. also nn.  and . . Eur. Iph.Taur. –. On Artemis and Iphigeneia, see, for example, LloydJones , ff.; Dowden , ff.; Antoniou , –; Kearns ,  and ;and Giuman ,–.Beck (,) observes the potentially great age of the Iphigeneia cave cult at Brauron, and of course that dovetails with the implied ancientness of the arkteia (cf. Lloyd-Jones ,  ff.; Osborne , ; and nn. –). Are the Mycenaean psi figurines of Perati (Iakovidis , ),“which most probably represented the divine nurse,” prototypes for those discovered at Brauron in the precinct of Artemis? Investigations have brought to light a middle Helladic building (house?) at Brauron, within which was discovered pottery suggesting contact between Brauron and, among other places, Mycenaean sites of the Peloponnesos: cf. Blackman –, ; and n. . The inhabitants of the inland deme Myrrhinous (modern Merenda;Traill , ), not far distant from Brauron, chiefly worshiped Artemis Kolainis (schol.Ar. Birds ;cf.Paus...;cf.appendix A,n.).The sanctuary of Artemis Tauropoulos,again, including Iphigeneia, was set on the beach at Halae Araphenides (modern Loutsa; Traill , ), just north of Brauron.Artemis worship may also have predominated among the coastal Euboians (cf. Paus. .., linking Artemis Amarysia [Athmonia/Amarousion: cf. Traill , ] with Amarynthos in Euboea [about  km south of Eretria]). And, of course, the cult of Artemis and Iphigeneia was entrenched farther up the coast at Aulis in Boiotia, very close to Euboia (cf. Giuman , ff). See also appendix A. . See nn. – and appendix A, n.. . On the association among Philaïdai, the Brauronian Artemis cult, and the Peisistratidai, see appendix A, nn. –. . The theory of mass emigration from Athens to the hinterlands of Attika in the eighth century B.C.E. (cf. Coldstream , ; Snodgrass , ff.; and Whitehead , ff.) possesses pronounced weaknesses.While the idea of “dioecism” is itself based on inconclusive archaeological data for the Geometric period, it discounts or fails to consider significant historical contraindications almost altogether (cf. Whitehead , ). It is much more difficult to believe that numerous inhabitants of the eighth-century B.C.E. villages of “Athens” (cf.Whitley , ) fanned out in concert and on cue to the farther reaches of the mesogaia rather than that the indigenes who,Thucydides notes,“always lived in the countryside” (..), coalesced in their own numbers in villages increasing in size at the same time technology and

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communication were improving everywhere in the Greek world (cf. Snodgrass , ff.; and Thomas and Conant , ). Second, I am unsure why natives of Attika could not have been joined by immigrants from outside of Attika—Euboia and the western Cyclades stand forth as potential contributors—just as the Boiotians were joined, for example, by Hesiod’s father (apparently in the eighth century B.C.E.), originally from Kyme in Anatolia (Works and Days, –; cf.West , ) or even as the Athenians were joined by the Gephyraioi, apparently from Euboia (Hdt. ..; cf. How and Wells , .; cf. also n. ).Third, what other than distinctions perceived by the Athenians could have produced the dichotomy between city folk and the diakrioi/hyperakrioi (men of the hills) until the mid–sixth century B.C.E. (cf. nn. –)? Fourth (and it relates to the last), there is no evidence of memory of any mass movement outward from Athens during the Dark Ages, and that seems a very significant omission in view of the active memory of events of movements before the Dark Ages (i.e., Ionian migrations to Athens, colonizing migrations from Athens, etc.). Fifth, how could such rites as those of Artemis Brauronia, ancient even in Peisistratos’ day (cf. Lloyd-Jones , ; and n. ), have been preserved, retaining some of their obviously Neolithic aspects, without at least some inhabitants remaining continuously in the vicinity from the end of the Bronze Age and carrying on the ancient ritual? (Beck [, –] in fact notes that the major site of Poussi Kalogeri [Kytherros?], . km southwest of Brauron, was inhabited continuously very possibly from Neolithic times. Even if this site were not the deme Kytherros, which Philochoros mentions as one of Attika’s ancient “twelve cities,” the Dodekapoleis [FrGrHist , F ; cf.Traill , –; and appendix A (and n. )], the memory of such habitation indicates that the Athenians at least believed in the early and persistent habitation of Attika in the area by indigenes.) These elements are not adequately dealt with by such theorists as espouse “dioecism.” Archaeological data accompanied only by speculation and theorizing are not enough of themselves to prove dioecism. . Certainly, Herodotos appears keen to specify aristocratic clans that had come to Athens from elsewhere (cf. Immerwahr , , n. ). Cf. n.  (on immigrants of the Archaic period) and n. . . Cf. Davies , . . On the Pylian myths, see nn.  and . Of course, I am assuming, contra Robertson (, ), that the Athens-oriented Neleid myths involving Melanthos and Kodros were in fact of some age by the beginning of the sixth century B.C.E., since claims were being made to affinity well before (cf. “Peisistratos,” archon of – B.C.E. [cf. n. ; and appendix C..B., n. ]). But cf. Robertson , : “Peisistratus the tyrant was born in ca. – B.C.E., or not long before or after. But most assuredly the name Peisistratus did not then evoke any Neleid heritage. For the archon of – B.C.E., a man born by the year  at the very latest, was already so named [!]” (cf. also nn. , , and ). Of course, the name is better taken as proof of the opposite of Robertson’s assertion—it is the name of Nestor’s son after all, made most famous in the Odyssey—and what he declares here. On the Philaios immigration myth and archaeological record, see nn. , , and . . Hellanikos FrGrHist , F  (cf. Jacoby b, III, B, II, ff. on the fragment); Str. ...Toepffer , ff.; Frost , –; and Robertson , ff., n. . Of course, this is a similar kind of demonstration (i.e., saving the city by ridding

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it of threat) to that which earned Oedipous the throne of Thebes (cf. Oed.Tyr. ff., ff.) Cf. nn.  (on Diognetos) and . . Hdt. .. (cf. How and Wells , .); Pherek. FrGrHist  F ; and Str. ... Cf.Toepffer , ff.; and Robertson , ff. . Cf.Toepffer , ff.; and Robertson , ff. . Again, contra Robertson , , cf.Thomas and Conant , , ; and nn.  and .The myths could reflect, at least to some degree, real conditions of the post–Bronze Age: certainly the Ionian migration myths from the same period are based on a historical event, the memory of which persisted from the end of the Bronze Age (Thuc. ..; Gomme , –; Hornblower , –; cf. also Huxley , ff.; and nn. –). . Cf. Podlecki , . Figueira (, ), in an effort to tie the Neleid tradition of the Peisistratidai to colonization, misses its main thrust, which must have been to achieve advantage(s) in politics at home. Cf. section .E. . Perhaps the most famous mythical repulse of invaders from the area of the akropolis was that of the Amazons by the Athenians under Theseus:Aes. Eum. –; Plut. Thes. ; cf.Walker b, –, –. Of course, this, the myth of Eumolpos, and both Neleid myths underscore the Athenians’ fear of vulnerability to invasion. Such abiding fear would surely have made the Kylonian seizure, assisted by alien Dorians, horrifying to the Athenians: see section .A.. (It appears that Athens’ akropolis was not taken even at the end of the Bronze Age: see Hurwit , –.) . While it is possible that the Peisistratid/Neleid tradition was further emphasized by Peisistratos’ successor(s) or others for their own purposes, the tradition benefited them only as a reflection of Peisistratos’ war accomplishments, which were decidedly not theirs. . A similar attitude might be found in that of the English at the death of the Black Prince noted by Thomas Walsingham (quoted from Tuchman ,):“while he lived they feared no enemy, even as he when he was present they feared no warlike encounter.” Of course, this image of redoubtability was won through Edward’s victory over the French at Poitiers, a turning point in the history of the two countries but, as a follow up to Crecy, a sea change for England. A similar feeling could have affected the Athenians with regard to Peisistratos after Nisaia, a victory that ensured Athenian security by effectively containing Megarian aggression: see section .A.–D; chapter V; appendix B.. . Aside from the testimony in Herodotos and other sources is the fact of the Solonian context: Solon says that the Athenians listened to orators and conceded power to them.Were we to know it from no other sources, Peisistratos would have to have been a persuasive speaker were he to appeal at all to the Athenians. As it is, context and other testimony converge here. Cf. Lavelle , –; and chapter III..A.. . Even then Peisistratos may have said of himself that he warred, or rather was forced to war, against his enemies (such as Megakles) rather than the Athenians, a further “spin” on events.As we shall see, the campaign resulting in the victory at Palle– ne– was probably designed not to be viewed by the Athenians as waged against them but against Peisistratos’“wicked” enemies: see chapter IV..D. . Diog. Laert. .; cf. Shapiro b, , n. ; Robertson , ; and Lavelle , –. Peisistratos was not alone in manipulating myth for advantage: we de-

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tect in Herodotos’ account of the “marriage of Agariste” (.–) an apparent attempt by the Alkmeonidai to portray the occasion and the victor, Megakles, in a myth-heroic fashion: cf. How and Wells , .; cf. McGregor , ff.; Fornara and Samons , –; Vandiver , –; and Parker , , –. It is impossible to say, on the present evidence, whether this propaganda is contemporary or anachronized, however. Cf. chapter III, n.  and Appendix E. Modern claims that Peisistratid myth-manipulation influenced subjects and themes on painted Attic pottery of the sixth century B.C.E. (most prominently by Boardman [, , and ]) seem to me to be based on little more than aesthetic inference and ingeniousness but are actually more ingenious than they are likely to be correct: cf. e.g., Cook (), who is very rightly skeptical about the links.The main objection is that such “propaganda” is just too vague or oblique to achieve its desired purpose and so becomes ineffective and even useless. How could anyone to whom the pottery may have been given outside of Attika understand any of the so-called propaganda values attached to the figures and themes? Indeed, things would have to have been explained even to the Athenians. Propaganda requiring explanation is failed propaganda. (On the controversy involving Peisistratos’ alleged use of Herakles, cf. also Cavalier –; Ferrari –; Hanah –; and Brandt .) While it is possible that the traditions of Neleid kinship were authentic (cf. Toeppfer , –, n. ; Davies , ; and nn. –, ), in view of the importance the Athenians attached to such myths, they were obviously used for political purposes: cf. section .E. Cromey (–, ) points out that connections to groups such as the Neleids have an epic sense, a further attraction for their inventors. Elected tyrants were not a rarity in Archaic Greece: Pittakos was “elected” by the Mitylenaians (cf.Arist.Pol. a;Diog.Laert..–;How and Wells ,,–; Epimenes by the Milesians [Nik. Dam. FrGrHist , ]; cf. Periandros of Corinth [Diog. Laert. .–;  (= Anth. Pal. .)]).The Megarians’ vote of a bodyguard to Theagenes might be said to have rendered him a de facto aisymne– te– s (“elected tyrant”) (Arist. Pol. a, –), just as it might be said to have done to Peisistratos later (see section .A.; nn. –; and chapter III..). On aisymne– teia, see also Hegyi ; and McGlew , –. Cf. also Hammer . . –: Kuvrne, povli~ me;n e[qÆ h{de povli~, laoi; de; dh; a[lloi, oi{ provsqÆ ou[te divka~ h[idesan ou[te novmou~, ajllÆ ajmfi; pleurai`si dora;~ aijgw`n katevtribon e[xw dÆ w{stÆ e[lafoi th`sdÆ ejnevmonto povleo~. kai; nu`n eijsÆ ajgaqoi;, Polupai?dh: These lines immediately follow those that have been dated to between  and  (see Cobb-Stevens, Figueira, and Nagy , ) and should therefore find context in the war with Athens (see section ) if not in the same period: see n. . Cf. also Hudson-Williams , –. . The need for manpower because of the war (and migration [see section .A.]?), but, perhaps more, depletion of the numbers willing to fight, probably helped to attract Megarian outlanders to Megara and perhaps diakrians (outlanders) to Athens: cf. section .B.–C. (It is interesting to note, in this light, that at least one ancient author observed that the Athenians permitted the Ionians to come to Athens

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at the end of the Bronze Age not because of affinity but because they required them in their wars with the Dorians: cf. Paus. ...) The alienation of the Peisistratidai and other (noble?) diakrians from the traditional Athenian aristocracy (and with it a sense of inferiority?) could help to explain not only why the Peisistratidai pressed their claims to Neleid kinship but also why Peisistratos sought the tyranny. Peisistratos was different from the Athenian aristocrats of the Kephissian Plain, conspicuously lacking the pervasive Athenian aristocratic aversion to tyranny (cf. chapter III, nn.  and ). Surely, some sense of alienation and inferiority, along with ambition, must figure into Peisistratos’ (and perhaps every Greek tyrant’s) aspirations to monarchy: cf. Diod. Sik. .; P.Oxy. . (on the mageiros [cook] Orthagoras of Sikyon); Hdt. .. (on the leuster [stone-thrower] Kleisthenes of Sikyon); section .A.; and nn. – (on Theagenes of Megara). Of course, two notable but quite unpopular exceptions to the general rule were the renegade aristoi Kylon and Isagoras. See section .A.; appendix B; and nn. –. . Cf. Lambert , ; and Cromey –, . Cf. also nn. –. . It seems difficult to imagine that the tradition about the Peisistratids’ Neleid origins came somehow through the Alkmeonidai, who linked themselves to the Neleids (cf. Paus. ..– in conjunction with Hdt. ..; and schol. Plat. Symp. ), since the Peisistratids as outlanders were not really ithageneis (rightly born) (cf. Davies ,  [on the Kimonids]) and since it was not at all desirable to be associated with the tyrants in (at least) the early fifth century B.C.E. at Athens.Yet the Alkmeonidai were not bashful about publicizing affinity with the Peisistratids later on (Isok. .; Rhodes , –; Lavelle a, ff.; Lavelle a) and appear to have been somewhat sensitive to their own actual latecoming to Athens (cf. Immerwahr , , n. ). Perhaps they publicized their own “Messenian” background as a result of (their ties to) the Neleid Peisistratids, whose lineage may have been accepted as valid by the Athenians, not in the least because of the genos’ abode in eastern Attika (cf. Davies , –; and Lavelle b, –). Cf. section .B. . It is surely the belief in their noble backgrounds that accounts for the statement in the Ath.Pol. (.) that Solon and Peisistratos were tw`n eujgenw`n kai; gnwrivmwn.There is no need to emend the text: cf. n. . By the same token, we cannot conclude merely on this evidence that the Peisistratidai were held to be true Athenian aristocrats.They were at pains after all to make the case for affinity and nobility. See also nn. , –. . Cf. appendix C..A. . Cf. Lavelle ; , . . See n. . . Lavelle ; , –. . Cf. Lavelle  ff.; and Legon , , n. . I cannot agree with Professor Frost (, ) that “the capture of Nisaea was in fact of little importance”: see section .D.Taylor (,  and n. ) is not convinced that there was a fifthcentury dampening of positive reference to Peisistratos in relation to Salamis:“If the tradition could preserve for Herodotos the information that Peisistratos captured Nisaia, why not that he captured Salamis?” The problem here is that Taylor confuses what Herodotos actually reports with the “tradition,” that is, what there was to report. Obviously, both Herodotos and the tradition (i.e., Herodotos’ source and/or source material) had more information about Peisistratos’ other military actions with regard

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to Salamis than Herodotos passed on to us.The “great deeds” of Peisistratos in the war with Megara very likely included the final recovery of Salamis: see section .C and n. . Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise, which depended on his Athenian source(s), is contaminated with interested, contrived, suppressed, and at times quite inconsistent reporting (cf. Lavelle ; Lavelle ; Lavelle , ff.; and chapter III).Thus, although Peisistratos’ great deeds are likely to have included the recovery of Salamis, what Herodotos supplies will not permit us to say absolutely that Peisistratos did help the Athenians retake Salamis, that he did not help them to retake Salamis, or that, if he did, the recapture was not among his other great deeds in the war: Herodotos simply does not tell us.The significant word in what Herodotos reports is of course megala (big), and this strongly suggests signal deeds that very likely included the recovery and securing of Salamis and perhaps the securing of Eleusis. See section .B.–C. . Ath.Pol. .; Plut. Sol. –, .. On Solon, Peisistratos, and the war for Salamis, see Toepffer , ff.; Highbarger , –; French ; Hopper , –, esp. –; Legon , –, ff.; Frost , –; Figueira a, –,–;Podlecki ,–;Stahl ,ff.;Oliva ,ff.;Taylor , –; Frost ; and L’Homme-Wery ; cf. Schachermeyr b, . See also sections .A.. and E. . On the date of Aeneias’ Poliorke–tika (On Sieges), see Whitehead , –; on sources for the Megarian war, cf. Figueira , ff. . Ain. Takt. .–; Front. ..; Just. .; cf.Whitehead , –. On Peisistratos’ cunning as topos in the time of Herodotos, cf. Lavelle , –. Conversely, it is possible that the tyrant’s cleverness helped create the topos for himself and others. One imagines that accretions enlarged the basis of Peisistratos’ real cunning as time went on: cf. Herodotos on Peisistratos’ rise and the account of the Ath.Pol. (.; .–). See also section .D.. . Cf. Gomme , ; Figueira a, . . On the myths of Melanthos and Kodros, see nn.  and . . Cf. nn.  and . Cf. also Osborne ,  (map). . Cf. Plut. Thes. ..Thucydides (..) refers to conflict between Athens and Eleusis at the time of Eumolpus and Erectheos, and it is possible that the historian thought that the initial incorporation occurred then: cf. Paus. .. (and .) (cf. Gomme , ; and Hornblower , –). Solon’s story of Tellos of Athens also suggests that Eleusis was not taken by the Athenians peacefully (see n. ). Cf. Figueira a, – and n. On Theseus’ unification of Attika, cf. Walker b, –; and Hornblower , –; cf. also Anderson ; and n. . . Figueira (a, ) suggests that the war began with Athens’ incorporation of Eleusis, which gave the two cities a common and disputed border. See also nn. –. . Cf. Padgug  (although a Bronze Age date for the incorporation of Eleusis into Attika seems too early); Hornblower , –; cf. also Mylonas , –; Legon ,  (“circa ”); Sealey , –; Diamant ; Figuiera a, –; Stanton ,  (later date); and L’Homme-Wery , ff. There is no reason why “Tellos of Athens” (Hdt. ..–), who was said by Solon to have fallen in battle against “neighbors in Eleusis” (..), need have been a contemporary of Solon (cf. Figueira a, ; and Stanton , ) or in fact that any



    

connection is to be made between him and Athens’ acquisition of Eleusis in the seventh century B.C.E. (cf. How and Wells , .; Richardson , , n. ; and Hornblower , ). “Tellos” obviously could have been a mythical figure connected with Athens’ early wars with Eleusis (cf.Thuc. .; Paus. ..; Mylonas, ff.; and L’Homme-Wery , –, –): he seems to have been an abstract anyway, whose name (“Mr. Fulfilment” or “Accomplishment”; “Outcome” or “EndMan,” cf. Chiasson , ) amounts perhaps to his mythical significance inasmuch as he finished his life well by Solonian standards. (Could Tellos also be the personification of a military unit? Cf.Aesch. Pers. ; Hdt. .., .; and Thuc. ..) On Tellos, cf. also L’Homme-Wery , –. Nor is the Solonian law on Eleusis of any help at all in dating the city’s acquisition by the Athenians (Andok. .; cf. Mylonas , –; and Garland , –), since it may well have been ancestral or invented as ancestral and simply ascribed to Solon. Some scholars consider that the best evidence for the annexation time is the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, which they observe was composed without any reference to Athens after ca.  but before  B.C.E. Thus, the Hymn might provide reasonable termini post and ante quem for Eleusis’ annexation by Athens (cf. Richardson , –). But that is an argumentum ex silentio, and a lack of reference to Athens in the Hymn hardly proves that the Athenians were not in control of Eleusis at the time of the Hymn’s composition, whenever that was. On the other hand, many of the anecdotes involving Solon, Peisistratos, and Salamis also involve Eleusis and the island and the city are naturally and strategically linked (see sections .A.. and .E.) It is reasonable, then, to assume that Eleusis was perpetually implicated in hostilities between Megara and Athens (see n. ). Eleusis may have changed hands perhaps several times in the protracted war with Megara beginning in the late eighth or early seventh century B.C.E. (cf. section .A..–), and intermittent Athenian control of it before the end of Megarian war could explain such omissions as we find in the Hymn and such references as Solon made to fighting about Eleusis (cf. Figueira a, ). Cf. also L’Homme-Wery , –; L’Homme-Wery ; and section .A.. . Cf. Philochoros FrGrHist  F  (appendix E, n. ); Cf. schol. Ar. Lys. : Agijei` me;n th;n para; to; a[stu mevcri Puqivou, Pavllanti de; th;n Paralivan, Luvkwi de; th;n Diakrivan, Nivswi de; th;n Megarivda. Cf. also Paus. ..; and appendix E. Jacoby (a, ), however, has suggested that this was legitimizing propaganda that came into being during the Megarian war (cf.Taylor , –, nn. –; Lavelle , ff.; nn. – and ; and section .E). . Cf. Linforth , ; Daverio Rocchi , ; and Andrewes b, . . It should be acknowledged that the myth of Pylian migration to Attika from Salamis (see n. ) could have itself been produced by the Athenians during the Megarian war: the cession and migration of Eurysakes and Philaios then became further ground for Athenian rights to the island (cf. Lambert , ; Taylor , –; and n. ). If that is the case, then Peisistratos might be considered the likeliest author of the story, since this knit his desire to demonstrate affinity together quite nicely with Athens’ political aims (viz., the annexation of Salamis: see section .E). On the other hand, as has been stated, the myth of immigration to eastern Attika is substantiated to some degree by the archaeology of the area for the Submycenaen

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period (see section .B).There are other indications of early links between Salamis and Athens: cf. nn.  and . It is to be observed, however, that the Homeric passages suggesting a link between Salamis and Athens (e.g., Il. .–) are most probably interpolations: cf.Taylor ,  and n. ; and section .E and n. . . Cf. Osborne , ; and Thomas and Conant ,  and . Cf., however, the cautionary remarks of Lambert (, , n. ). . Cf. IG I3 ; Figueira , ff.;Taylor , –; and Lambert , . . Cf. Jeffery , ; Legon , –, ; Graham , –; and Figueira a, –, , on Corinthian dominance of the Megarid. . Cf. Salmon , , , –, –, ff. . Although the victories of the Megarian general Orsippos, said to have been Olympic victor in  B.C.E. (IG VII.; Paus. ..; cf. Highbarger , ; Piccirilli , –; Legon , ; Salmon , ; and Hornblower , –), were very possibly achieved at the expense of the Corinthians (cf. Figueira a, –), it cannot be ruled out completely that they were won from the Athenians (Salmon ; Legon ). Of the range of dates for Orsippos (– B.C.E.; cf. Piccirilli , ; and Figueira a, –),  B.C.E. seems the best anchor, since the testimony of Sex. Julius Africanus (ca. A.D. ; cf. Mosshammer , , –), preserved in Eusebios (Chr. ), plausibly reconciles the confusion between Orsippos and Akanthos the Spartan (Figueira a, ). Orsippos won the stadion, the premier event of the early Olympic games, and apparently became conflated with Akanthos, who competed ungirt (causing quite a stir apparently) but won a different competition (dovlico~): both events seem to have occurred in the same year. Orsippos probably became identified in some sources with Akanthos and running ungirt because he was the likely Olympic eponymous for . Orsippos was thus more likely a general for Megara sometime after his Olympic victory, perhaps ca. , than before. . Cf. n. . Corinth’s “weakening” in the early seventh century B.C.E. before the aggression of Argos notwithstanding (cf. Andrewes , ; Salmon , ), Megara’s resources were circumscribed, its land relatively poor; the intensive colonization effort of the late eighth and early seventh centuries (see nn. –) suggests that no headway could be made against Corinth or Athens at the that time (cf. Jeffery , ). Indeed, Corinth seems to have forestalled further Megarian colonization in Sicily: at least, Megara’s efforts, in the early seventh century, were aimed in a much different direction (because of friendship with Miletos?). Cf. Jeffery , . . The loss of Krommyon (cf. Str. ..; Legon , ; and Figueira a, –) is datable really any time before  B.C.E., but, because it was tied more to Corinth’s trade, would seem to have been earlier rather than later: cf. nn. – and . Legon (, ) suggests that Orsippos’ gains (see n. ) may have been only partial in any case. Ephoros (FrGrHist  F  [= Str. ..]) observes that one Theokles of Athens led colonists to Sicily, including Chalkidians from Euboia and some other Ionians but also Megarans, who founded Megara Hyblaia. If this is so, then the latter was Megara’s first colonization effort, dated roughly to the last quarter of the eighth century. Cf. Figueira a, –.

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      –

. Khalkedon: Euseb. Ol. . (=  B.C.E.); Selymbria: Pseudo-Skymnos  (“before Byzantion”); Byzantion: Euseb. Ol. . (=  B.C.E.). On the dating of the colonies, see Figueira a, –; Isaac ,  and . (Both reject the traditional dating, that is, in the first half of the seventh century B.C.E., as too early but adduce no adequate grounds for rejection. Certainly, the absence of physical remains from the ancient sites of Selymbria, Khalkedon, and Byzantion is due rather to lack of intensive [and so conclusive] excavation at these sites, not because they do not exist. It is to be noted, however, that there are discrepancies in the ancient sources.) Cf. also Boardman , –. See also n. . . See Legon , –; and Figueira a, –, –. Figueira asserts () that “I find it improbable that overpopulation of the remaining Megarian territory was the most important factor in Megarian colonization.” He points out that a gap existed in time between loss of land and colonization so that the loss was no real imperative to colonization. As it is, Orsippos’ gains for Megara were very likely only temporary and partial (cf. n. ) and that temporary time of ascendancy would well account for a break in colony dates. Figueira seems to overlook, however, the facts that colonization and the war between Athens and Megara over Salamis and Eleusis can be taken to confirm land-loss again in the earlier seventh century, after the victories of Orsippos (cf. Legon , ; and Highbarger , ). If it is true that all the arable land of the Megarid was already occupied (so Legon; cf. Highbarger), then even a relatively slight increase in population would overburden Megara’s shaky economic basis. As it is, the long war with Athens suggests that for Megara this was a life or death struggle. Perhaps overpopulation was not “the most important factor,” but it must have been a contributing one for colonization, the context of tyranny, and the Megarian war (see section .) I omit extensive discussion of the problematic testimony of Theognis at this point, some of which at least appears to date to the mid–seventh century B.C.E. (see n. ). While there is a chance that Theognis’ reference to the “rude” populace down from the hills does not describe Megara ca.  B.C.E., it does give at least some sense of what conditions might have been like at the time along with reactions to them. Cf. Oost , , n. . (I take it that these “rude” types might well have come for the war and what it offered: see n.  and section .) . Cf. Linforth , ; Oost , ; and Figueira a, –.The foundation date for Astakos, on the south shore of the Propontis, is – B.C.E. (Memnon FrGrHist  F ; on Astakos, cf.Toeppfer a). Colonization to the west is to be dated earlier still (ca. – B.C.E.): cf. n. . . Cf. Figueira a,  (in relation to the stratagem of Solon [Plut. Sol. .–]):“The alacrity with which the Megarians on Salamis rose to the lure of piracy may suggest that Megarian piratical raids were no small threat to Athens.” Cf. also Andrewes b, –. Sudden Megarian descents on Athenian territory are attested in Ain. Takt. .; Plut. Sol. ; Just. .; and Front. .. (all of which references, however, may derive from one source [cf. Figueira a, ]; see section .D..), but securing Salamis could really only lessen and not prevent the possibility of such attacks from Megara, Aegina (cf. Figueira , –), or even from the Peloponnesos.The Athenians will have feared an assault on Phaleron: landings such as Anchimolios’ expedition at the end of the sixth century were always possible (Hdt. ..–) it seems, especially for Athens’ hostile, seagoing neighbors, the Aeginetans.

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(Anchimolios’ invasion in fact seems to negate Legon’s assertion [, ] that Phaleron would have been a difficult end for Megarians based on Salamis because of problems with Athenian surveillance: quite to the contrary, it would have been easier for Megarians on Salamis to attack Phaleron than it was for Anchimolios, who successfully disembarked himself and his men there, apparently without resistance.) Legon (, ) is also wrong to limit the threat posed to “monitor[ing] and harass[ing] the shipping” of either state or even to piracy and brigandage (cf. Figueira , –). Cf. also Highbarger , ; and Stahl , ff. On piracy from Salamis in the late eighth century, which apparently avoided Athenian land, cf. Hesiod F , – M-W (cf. Taylor , –; cf. also Legon , ). See also section .C.–D. . Cf. Figueira , . . On the Megarian kle–rouchoi (colonists) of Salamis, see Paus. .. (= FrGrHist  F ; based on Megarian “history”?). Cf. Figueira b, ; Figueira , ; Legon , ; Piccirilli , –; Figueira a, –; and Taylor , . We may agree that the Megarian version of Salamis’ takeover by Athenians stresses treason as an explanation, and obviously an unfair fight (cf. Figueira a), but the designation of the settlers as kle– rouchs does nothing to help date (or undate) the evidence to the seventh or sixth centuries B.C.E. (Figueira [, ] suggests that the use of kle– rouchos in this context may be significant but does not take proper account of Pausanias’ lateness and the sources he may have used: cf. Lavelle a.) The recollection apparently by Megarians of Megarian settlers in Salamis before the Athenian takeover is, however, noteworthy. . Flocks:Arist. Pol. a; bodyguard:Arist. Rhet. b. Contra Schachermeyr , ; Oost , ; and de Libero , , there are in fact no real grounds other than Tendenz for believing that Theagenes was a noble (e.g., Schachermeyr : “versteht sich aber von selbst [!]”). Association through marriage with the “noble” Kylon does not prove it by a long chalk (cf. Legon , ). Cf. also nn.  and . On Theagenes and his tyranny, see Highbarger , –; Schachermeyr ; Berve , .–; Daverio Rocchi ,  and n. ; Oost , ff.; and de Libero , –. (Oost’s attempt to set the sequence of bodyguard and slaughter [] seems a case of reverse logic: reaction does not come about from inaction.) On the date of Theagenes, cf. Schachermeyr , –; Berve , .; Jeffery ,  (“c. –”); Legon ,  (“around ”); Figueira a,  (“took power by c. ”); and Hornblower , , who wisely cautions that Theagenes is really dated in relation to Kylon. . Cf. de Libero , –. While we may agree with de Libero that the similarities of Theagenes’ case with those of Peisistratos and Dionysios are somewhat suspect (), we may disagree with her that Aristotle’s sheep (or flock) slaughtering put his readers/listeners in mind of mad Aias: identification with a madman would hardly bode well for a political upstart.Theagenes’ slaughter of the flocks could have occurred in fact and could have made him popular: it need not have had anything to do with the so-called social/revolutionary theory that she says (–) was attached to earlier tyrants by fourth-century B.C.E. authors such as Aristotle (cf. n. ). Theagenes’ inclusion among other war leaders actually suggests that his path to the tyranny was through war—a path that makes a good deal of sense in view of conditions affecting Megara,Athens, and of the career of Peisistratos.

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     – 

. The attempt of Cawkwell () to discredit the information that portrayed Archaic tyrants as popular fails to convince for lack of fair and adequate treatment of the sources, particularly Aristotle. Cf. Hammer , –. See also n. . . Contra de Libero , –, n. : this information cannot be so easily dismissed. Cf. also Highbarger , ; and Oost , . . Cf. Jeffery , ; and nn. –. . Cf. Jeffery , . . Figueira a, . French’s article (, ff.), while impressive and admirable in so many ways, nevertheless imposes a sort of macroeconomic determinism on events in the Megarian war that is largely founded on anachronism. (Figueira [] terms the treatment “modernizing.”) Rather than indicating Athens’ great naval power (or at least a greater naval power than before [Stahl , –]), the drive to occupy Salamis might argue exactly the opposite. Indeed, the war and final absorption of Salamis by the Athenians hardly implies extensive Athenian naval power: the island is quickly and easily reached from Attika or the Megarid by very small boat (cf. Plut. Sol. .; Str. ..; and nn.  and ). In fact, before Peisistratos Athens seems to have lacked significant naval strength to protect its coastline, especially Phaleron.This lack was pronounced until the war with Aegina over a century later (Hdt. .; Figuiera a, ). (Certainly, the Athenians needed to acquire greater naval power to attack Nisaia but really only enough to do the job not “rule the waves.”) Legon’s analysis of Salamis’ strategic location (, –) and the consequences of piracy seems somewhat naive on points. Piracy appears to have been all too common in early Greece, and Salamis was a nest for pirates from of old (cf. n. ). Legon seems to be quite correct, however, to point out that Salamis—and indeed the war— were finally lost by the Megarians due to the collocation of superior resources, perhaps above all the deployment of superior warriors late in the game, by the Athenians (cf. n.  and section .D.). Cf. also Highbarger , –; Hopper , –; and Stahl , . . Eleusis and the Thriasian Plain appear to have fallen fairly easily to (Dorian) invaders: cf. Hdt..;Thuc. .. (cf. Hornblower , ; and n. ). Cf. also How and Wells , . (on the Tellus story and border fighting for Eleusis; cf. n. ); Highbarger , , ; Hopper , ; and Figueira a, ff. On the linkage between Salamis and Eleusis, cf. L’Homme-Wery , . . Cf. Daverio Rocchi , –; Jeffery , ; and Andrewes b, . Oost’s harsh and summary appraisal of Theagenes (, ),“Theagenes seems to have understood nothing beyond opportunism and ambition,” is misleading, not in the least because it is based merely on the author’s opinion, not on evidence. . On the attempted tyranny of Kylon, see Hdt. . (How and Wells , .–; this account, which surely derives from Alkmeonid sources, omits much detail: cf. nn. –); Thuc. ..– (Gomme , –; Hornblower , –); Ath.Pol.  (Rhodes , –); Plut. Sol. .–; and scholion ad Ar. Eqs. c (accusing Kylon of hierosylia [temple robbery]). Stanton (, –) conveniently assembles the passages and others pertinent to the Kylonian affair (cf. also Dillon and Garland , –). I do not take the details that Thucydides adds to be legendary or otherwise untrustworthy (so Lang ): cf. Mossé , ; Okin , ;and n..On the Kylonian affair,cf.further Honigman ,Williams ;Berve

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, .–; Mossé , –; Daverio Rocchi , ff.; Lévy ; Legon , ff.;Andrewes b, –; Lambert ; Oliva , –;Thomas , ff.; Fornara and Samons , ff.; Jordan , –; L’Homme-Wery , –; de Libero , –;Wallace , –; Harris-Cline ; and Lavelle , –. (Littman [, ] terms the “coup d’état” a “relatively minor incident”!) Rhodes (, ff.) offers perhaps the best short treatment. See nn. –. . Euseb. Ol.  (= – B.C.E.); Paus. ... Gomme (, ) is surely correct in stating that the coordination derives from the Olympic victor lists and I take it as secure on that basis. Cf. Rhodes , ; Stanton , ; and Hornblower , . See also n. . . Kylon’s attempted tyranny will have occurred after his Olympic victory (and Theagenes’ tyranny: cf. Jeffery , ; and n. ) but before Drakon’s reforms in the archonship of Aristaichmos in  B.C.E. (cf.Ath.Pol. .;Euseb.Ol..;Cadoux , ; Rhodes , ; and Develin , ). Since Kylon seized the akropolis in an Olympic year, the range of possibilities is  (cf.Andrewes b, :“ or some immediately succeeding Olympiad”),  (cf. Busolt , .; cf. also Morgan , :“ca. ”),  (cf. Legon , :“it can scarcely have occurred later than . . .”), and  B.C.E. It is not possible to fix the date precisely on the present evidence: cf. Gomme , –; Davies , –; and Hornblower , –. Some scholars assume that  is too soon after the Olympic victory (e.g., Gomme , ), others that  is too late (cf. Stanton , ). Still others, however, in view of Herodotos’ testimony alluding to Kylon’s confederates as “youthful” (cf. n. ) designate either  or  as the year of the attempt, assuming that the confederates could not be termed “youthful” by the later dates: cf. Freeman , ; Lévy , ; and Legon , .This is all very tenuous. Jacoby (Atthis , , n. ) synchronizes the attempt with the Olympic victory, although his synchronism is not persuasive and has not been widely followed.The consensus dates ( or  B.C.E.), which I adopt here, are at least supported by a presumption that Kylon would have capitalized sooner rather than later after his Olympic victory.Admittedly, either of the dates is recommended by no more than such logic (cf. Lévy , , n. ; Jacoby , , n. ; and Hornblower , ), and really any of the four are admissible. (Lévy’s severe downdating [, i.e., Kylon’s Olympic victory was – B.C.E., his coup –], however, is not, for its less appealing logic depends on a desire merely to narrow the gaps in time between Kylon and his coup, the pollution of the Alkmeonidai, and the intervention of Solon to expiate it. It is ultimately based on restatement of the rather special pleas of Wilamowitz and Lenschau. For it, far too much credence is given the chronological framework of the lost introductory chapters of Ath.Pol. in conjunction with that of Plutarch’s Solon. And the latter is hardly to be taken as chronologically precise.) Cf. French (, –), who briefly but very lucidly and effectively summarizes the problems. Cf. also Harris-Cline , , n. ; and Lavelle , , n. . . Thuc. ..: oJ de; (sc. Kylon) para; te tou` Qeagevnou~ duvnamin labw;n kai; tou;~ fivlou~ ajnapeivsa~ (“Having gotten a force from Theagenes and persuaded a band of friends . . .”; cf. schol. ad Ar. Eq. b [which looks to derive ultimately from Thucydides]). Other adherents: a “band of age mates” (not necessarily youthful) (Hdt. ..: eJtairhivhn tw`n hJlikiwtevwn) and (the much inferior) “coconspirators” (Plut.



      – 

Sol. .: tou;~ sunwmovta~). Obviously, they were not all of the same genos, although Kylon’s brother accompanied him at the time of his attempt (Thuc. ..); they did not amount to a stastio–tai (partisans). Cf. Berve , .. . Thuc. ..– (cf. n. ); cf. Andrewes b, ; Lambert , –; and Hornblower , .The targeted time was undoubtedly the Diasia (cf. n. ). . Cf. Figueira , ; and Lavelle , . . There are really no great discrepancies between Herodotos’ and Thucydides’ versions of the Kylonian affair and its aftermath (although Herodotos leaves much out: see n. ). Herodotos admits that those who were blamed and accursed were the Alkmeonidai, but he obviously wants to say little about the Alkmeonid role in the slaughter. (In general, we see that Herodotos reports about the Alkmeonidai favorably [cf. Lavelle , –]: cf. also chapter III, n. ).According to Thucydides, those put in charge of the siege were archons, not prutaneis to–n naukraro–n, but that is really inconsequential to their agreement about Alkmeonid responsibility for the Kylonian crime. (On the controversy about the prutaneis to– n naukraro– n, see n. .) Cf. nn.  and . . Thucydides (. .) says that Kylon and his brother fled from the akropolis; Herodotos (.) is silent about the death of Kylon, although he says that he sat as a supplicant before the statue of Athena. One therefore cannot agree either with Hornblower (, ) that Herodotos “clearly implies that Kylon was killed with the rest,” or with Hurwit (, ) that Kylon was “led away under false pretenses and slain”: cf. also schol. ad Ar. Eq. b–c; and n. . Herodotos’ account is obviously affected by “interested reporting”: cf. How and Well , . n. . I assume that the Megarians were allowed to leave on the analogy of the end of Kleomenes’ and Isagoras’ seizure of the akropolis in – B.C.E. (Hdt. .. [cf. How and Wells , .–]; Ath.Pol. .–; and schol. ad Ar. Lysis.  [cf. Rhodes , –]).Then Kleomenes and his Spartans were permitted to depart, along with Isagoras;the latter’s adherents were not (cf.Hdt...).Cf.Berthold  on Kleomenes’ invasion of Attika. Cf. also nn.  and . . Cf. Harris-Cline , –, on the route of the Kylonians down from the akropolis. . Cf. Stanton , –; and Garland ,  and n. . (Contra Garland, Megakles did not “assassinate” Kylon: see n. .) This is not the place to weigh in on the controversy surrounding Herodotos’ designation of the Alkmeonidai as prutaneis to– n naukraro– n, which will remain unsettled at least for the present time (Hdt. ..; see,e.g.,Williams ;Wüst ;Daverio Rocchi ,ff.;Billigmeier and Dusing ; Gabrielson ; Figueira , –; Lambert ; Lambert , ff., –; French , ; Stanton , –, n. ; Hornblower , ; Jordan ; de Libero , –, n. ; and Wallinga ; cf. Dillon and Garland , ; Harding , –; and McInerney , –). It seems quite clear, however, that Herodotos (or rather his source) was protecting the Alkmeonidai by naming the prutaneis as responsible for the sphage– (cf. n. ). . On the Diasia, see Simon , ff. Cf. also Gomme , ; Hornblower , ; and Parker , –. On the timing of the ancient Olympic festival, cf. Morgan , –. . Cf. Andrewes b, ; and Frost , .The popular nature of the resistance to Kylon is underscored by Thucydides, who says that the Athenians opposed Kylon pande– mei (..; cf. Lavelle , , n. ). Thucydides’ reference to the

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popular opposition to Kylon is certainly not “an irrelevant detail” (contra Gomme , ). Cf.Wallace , . . Cf. Legon , ; and Lavelle , ff. Arrowsmith’s speculation ( ) that “Theagenes will have hoped his son-in-law would sway the Athenian thinking in Megara’s favor, perhaps first through persuasion and later through the use of force in the form of tyranny,” is contrary to the accounts we have.Theagenes’ supply of troops to Kylon and the latter’s coup show that both had adopted violence and coercion as methods for obtaining their ends from the outset. Gentler persuasion was not part of the plan, and of course that lack contributed to its undoing. See n. . . Contra Bengston and Bloedow (, ), Kylon’s coup did not fail “ultimately not least because the Attic small farmers remained loyal to the noble families [!]”: it failed because the Athenians reacted instantaneously to the news of invasion of the akropolis and a crucial part of them remained resolved to defeat the invaders: cf. Hignett , ; Stahl , ; de Libero , ; and n. . A gauge of sorts giving some idea as to what fueled the Athenian reaction to the occupation of the akropolis by the Megarians may perhaps be found in the later occupation by the Spartans under Kleomenes.The priestess of Athena said to the Spartan Kleomenes as he walked into the temple of the goddess (Hdt. ..): ÇW xei`ne Lakedaimovnie, pavlin cwvrei mhde; e[siqi ej~ to; iJrovn: ouj ga;r qemito;n Dwrieu`si parievnai ejnqau`ta. He answered that he was an “Achaian” not a “Dorian,” implying that there was no pollution. But popular opinion held otherwise, and we should not forget that the Athenians considered all of the akropolis Athena’s own “city.” (Cf. How and Wells , ., who nevertheless miss the racial implications of the prohibition.) In any case, the failure of Kleomenes’ enterprise at Athens was the direct result of general Athenian hostility to it: cf. Hdt. ... Cf. also Lavelle , , n. . It is surely for much the same reason that Isagoras and his foreign allies failed to hold Athens at the end of the sixth century, although they held the akropolis, as did Kylon and his allies (see nn.  and ). Such statements as “the Athenians in c.  were not yet ready for a tyrant” (Hornblower , ; cf. Beloch , ., ff.) seem to be based on no more than hindsight (cf. Gomme , ). Cf. chapter III, n. . . Cf. Legon , . . Cf. Berve , .. Of course, Berve, like other modern scholars, is misled by examples of foreign occupation occurring much later and outside of Athens. On the short-lived Spartan-backed regime of Isagoras, see nn.  and ; on the Spartan-backed regime of the Thirty Tyrants, see Ath.Pol. . (cf. Rhodes , –). . Hopper , ; Legon , . In the event of Salamis’ possession by Megara, Eleusis was again vulnerable to attack by land and sea (cf. Highbarger , ; and Legon ): see n. . . Cf. Legon , . . I see no reason why “the failure of Cylon’s coup [would] have badly shaken Theagenes’ regime” such that it may not have survived many years (so Legon , ): we do not know the duration of Theagenes’ regime, and we may not say in any way conclusively what was done or not done (cf. Legon , , n. ; and Figueira a, ). On the other hand, the aborted coup at Athens was Kylon’s failure, not Theagenes’, who had risked little and apparently got all his warriors back intact (cf. n. ). Moreover, the Megarians were able to inflict a significant defeat on the Athenians around the same time: cf. n. .



     

Although we may imagine that the Athenian aristocracy in general was opposed to tyranny at Athens (cf. n. ), the Megarian aristocracy need not have been uniformly opposed to it on principle, to Theagenes, or to his tyranny at Megara (Legon , ), especially since advantages were possible for aristocrats working with the tyrants in the fast-changing Greek world of the seventh and sixth centuries B.C.E. Aristocrats did in fact make marriage alliances with social inferiors such as tyrants. (At Megara,Theognis scoffs at the intermarriage of nobles and “outlanders”: –W [Campbell , –; Gerber , –]; cf. n. .) Of course, the signal example of this for Athens is Megakles’ alliance with Kleisthenes of Sikyon through Agariste (Hdt. ..; see also chapter III, n. ). In the aftermath of the Kylonian affair, the complicity of the new regime with Megara may have been only apparent: indeed, its primary concern was to maintain its power, and this it seems to have done by temporarily ending hostilities with Megara (see nn. –). . There is perhaps some oblique information by which to gauge the Athenians’ revulsion at the Kylonian pollution.At the opening of Sophokles’ Oedipous Tyrannos (–), the Theban chorus observes symptoms of its city’s affliction and is dismayed because, as it later learns from Kreon (–), an unexpiated curse derived from murder is blighting the land.Thebes is in turmoil; its citizens are frightened and demoralized and desperately seeking relief when they approach Oedipous (–). The polluter must be driven off the land (–). Sophokles did not create such scenes in a vacuum, and what he portrays might allude to conditions at Athens in the wake of the Alkmeonid crime. (He certainly introduced into his plays what the Athenians would recognize: cf. appendix H; and Knox [], who observes the connections that Sophokles made between the plague depicted in Oedipous and the real one afflicting the Athenians during the Archidamian War [– B.C.E.]. Cf. also Dawe  ad loc.) Guilt, demoralization, and the assumption that god was no longer with them very likely caused the Athenians to shrink from battle with the Megarians after the Kylonian sphage– : cf. n. . (Cf. also. Plut. Sol. . [in relation to the long-term effects of the Kylonian pollution]: kai; fovboi tine;~ ejk deisidaimoniva~ a{ma kai; favsmata katei`ce th;n povlin, oi{ te mavntei~ a[gh kai; miasmou;~ deomevnou~ kaqarmw`n profaivnesqai dia; tw`n iJerw`n hjgovreuon [see also nn. –]. Of course, there may well be later embellishment in these comments.) . Thuc. .. (Gomme , –); Ath.Pol.  (Rhodes , ff.); Plut. Sol. .. Cf. Frost , –; and Fornara and Samons , –. Ostraka cast against Megakles, the son of Hippokrates, in the early s B.C.E. recalls the Kylonian crime: some voters label him ajleiterov~; one even calls him Kulovneo~ (cf. Brenne , ; and Matthaiou –, ). (On the connection between ajlithvrio~/ajlithvrioi and the Kylonian crime, see schol. ad Ar. Eq. .) Although these ostraka were cast in the wake of Marathon and the alleged treason of the Alkmeonidai (Hdt. .–; cf. Lavelle , , n. ) and so reflect the rancor of the time, the recollection of the Kylonian crime, in a sense out of context for the recent treason, provides a good index of its durability over time and its political usefulness for opponents of the Alkmeonidai even well into the fifth century B.C.E.: of course, the Spartans at the beginning of the Peloponnesian war tried to invoke the curse to destabilize Perikles’ regime—and Athens:Thuc. ...

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. Ath.Pol.  and Plut. Sol. . (cf. Rhodes , – [although he prudently observes that the factualness of the indications must remain uncertain]; Stanton , ; and Hornblower , ). Cf. nn. –. . Cf. nn. – and . It is surely reasonable to assume, on the basis of Thucydides’ testimony (..), that the Athenians reacted to the original pollution either immediately or, as seems more likely, not long afterward and then again in , when Kleomenes expelled the seven hundred “hearths” (Hdt. ..) along with Kleisthenes. It is possible that the source for the Ath.Pol. and Plutarch, which I take to be ultimately a common one (an Atthis perhaps? cf. Rhodes , ), anachronized the proceedings involving the second “trial” and purification in the time of Isagoras and Kleomenes to the first involving Myron (cf. Gomme , –). Indeed, it seems hard to believe that a full-blown, formal trial would have to have been convened in the later seventh century B.C.E. to decide guilt when the Alkmeonidai had been generally observed by everybody in flagrante (cf. n. ). Cf. Rhodes , . On Kleomenes’ invasion, cf. nn.  and . . Plut. Sol. .: to; de; Kulwvneion a[go~ h{dh me;n ejk pollou` dietavratte th;n povlin . . . and .: ejk touvtou de; klhqevnte~ ejnagei`~ ejmisou`nto kai; tw`n Kulwneivwn oiJ perigenovmenoi pavlin h\san ijscuroiv, kai; stasiavsante~ ajei; dietevloun pro;~ tou;~ ajpo; tou` Megaklevou~. (We note in these passages that imperfect verb forms are used uniformly. Of course, one could argue that this is nothing but the consistency one expects in following an account mistaken for factual.) .: tauvtai~ de; tai`~ taracai`~ kai; Megarevwn sunepiqemevnwn, ajpevbalon te Nivsaian oiJ ÆAqhnai`oi, kai; Salami`no~ ejxevpeson au\qi~. Cf.Toepffer , . According to Pausanias (..) the beak of an Athenian ship (embolon) was dedicated in the temple of Zeus at Megara. It had come from a victory over the Athenians off Salamis, apparently before Solon’s intervention in the war (cf. section .A.). If the information is valid, the victory might then be dated after the Kylonian slaughter and could be taken to spell the end to Athenian control of the island. (Could this suggest that the Athenians sought new technology to gain tactical advantages over the Megarians and could the technology [or ships] have been supplied by Corinthian allies? Cf. Thuc. ..; Hornblower , –; and Legon , –.) The testimonium is suspect, however, for triremes were not apparently used by the Athenians as early as the end of the seventh century B.C.E. Cf. Piccirilli ,  and ; Figueira a, ; and Taylor , –, . . ÆEpei; de; makrovn tina kai; duscerh` povlemon oiJ ejn a[stei peri; th`~ Salaminivwn nhvsou Megareu`si polemou`nte~ e;xevkamon, kai; novmon e[qento mhvte gravyai tina; mhvtÆ eijpei`n au\qi~ wJ~ crh; th;n povlin ajntipoiei`sqai th`~ Salami`no~, h] qanavtw/ zhmiou`sqai ktl. Cf. Linforth , –; Freeman , –; Legon , –; and Taylor , –. See also nn. –. . Cf. Plut. Sol. .; Cic. de offic. .; Justin ..; Polyain. ..–; Dem. .; and schol. ad Il. .. Freeman (, ) suggests that the story of the decree arose from Solon’s calling himself a herald in . of the fragment (cf. Lefkowitz , ; and Robertson , , n. ): that he did so implied the threat of punishment; the self-designation gave him immunity from bodily harm. By the same token, the madness story can have evolved from the same inference: there was a threat of capital punishment, and only a madman—or a sane one feigning madness—would risk death.There is no reason to believe, with Lefkowitz, that “the circumstances of



      – 

[Solon’s] performance were inferred wrongly from his poetry”: Plutarch had, or at least could have had, more of Solon’s poetry, and indeed Salamis, before him when he wrote what he did, and we needn’t force all of his poetry solely into sympotic (or other) venues: cf. n. . Nor is the curious deconstruction of the episode by Robertson (, –), devolving upon Solon’s cap, at all persuasive: there is far too much space to fill in between Robertson’s lines (cf. nn. , , , and ). Deception was clearly part of the political game in Archaic Athens, and Solon was party to it: cf. Lavelle ,  and n. ; cf. also Hammer , ff. See also nn. –,  and ; and chapter III, n. . . Cf. Freeman , ; Frost , ; Anhalt , ; and Taylor , –. Legon’s assertion (, ) that the law was directed at Salaminians displaced by the Megarians does not account for the response to Solon’s poem, that is, renewal of the war.This shows that there were many other Athenians who shared his sentiments (see n. ).The anti-Alkmeonid group certainly need not have been working directly in Megara’s interests (so French , ; cf. nn.  and ) and so treasonously to undermine Athens’security by enforcing the law.The Athenians generally could have been reacting genuinely to the carnage of the Kylonian agos and/or a subsequent military disaster involving Salamis (cf. nn. , , , and ) and the politicians who replaced the Alkmeonids simply capitalizing on those reactions. Indeed, if there was such a law prohibiting further talk about war with Megara over Salamis, it had to be popular at least for some time to be effective. It could have been passed in the wake of the Kylonian affair or, as I think it likelier, a short time afterward in the wake of a major defeat (but cf. Freeman ). See also n. . . Solon Frs – W (cf. Gerber , ). Cf. Linforth , – (of two minds about the account in Plutarch: legendary and yet not to be rejected unreservedly), –; Freeman , –; and Taylor , . Athenian law: Justin ..– (= Ephoros); Plut. Sol. .; cf. French , ; Sealey , ;Andrewes b, –; Frost , –; Dillon and Garland , –. Taylor’s case (, –) that the word Salaminafevtai (= “Salamis-abandoners”: West , ) in F , , does not connote Athens’ control of Salamis before Solon I do not find convincing. First of all, Salamivnafevtai does suggest possession and then loss, as if from one’s grasp: it actually implies the opposite of katevcein (“to control”: cf. ajfivhmi [Il. ., etc.; cf. LSJ s.v. ajfivhmi I.]); second, Solon’s allusion to “hard disgrace” (F , : calepovn tÆ ai\sco~), that is, something surpassingly shameful that had already overtaken the Athenians, does not imply defeat in any skirmish or minor action but rather a major defeat, which resulted in such “hard disgrace” (this is a crucial omission in Linforth , – and n. , who attempts to counter Beloch’s argument [, ] for Athens’ prior claim to Salamis); third,Taylor’s statement (, n. ) that “all other suggestions found of Athenian loss in the sources are themselves suspect because they may be no more than extrapolations from Solon” is itself “suspect,” since it seems to be based only on Solon’s extant poetry rather than what the ancients (e.g., Demosthenes ., the author of the Ath.Pol.) might have had that we do not (see n. ).We cannot say that Solon was not more explicit about things in poems that we do not possess. Demosthenes the orator, for example, can have had Salamis before him entire when he referred to Solon and Salamis: he certainly had other Solonian texts: cf. F  (= Dem. .). Finally there are some archaeological

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grounds for believing that Salamis was within Athens’ cultural sphere as early as the Submycenaean period and could have “belonged” to it: cf.Thomas and Conant , ff. Cf. also nn. , , and . Bakaoukas  tries to connect Solon with Salamis by birth but pays no attention to the relative merits of sources. Cf. n. . . Cf. Rhodes , . . Solon may have been between thirty and forty years of age at the time of his recitation of Salamis (cf. Davies , –), and if this is true it would not be unreasonable to think that his sentiments for war and the approval they received derived from the passage of time and the dimming of fears for the Kylonian crime and the serious defeat the Athenians seem to have suffered in its wake (cf. nn. –). In that case, the poem will have most impressed and inspired a younger generation kept clear of war by the post-Kylonian faction and come to flower in the period between that severe setback to the Athenians, which apparently followed Kylon’s attempt and Solon’s debut. Cf. nn. , , and . . Cf. French , . Cf. also n. . . Some of the enageis (polluted) can have fallen in a battle for Salamis just after the Kylonian affair. (See n. .) Surely it would not be amiss to consider that the Alkmeonidai, in the wake of the slaughter, prosecuted the war for Salamis (or sought to defend the island: cf. nn. –) if only to rally the Athenians around them and to distract attention from their crime.We certainly expect the Alkmeonids to be war leaders and, if they survived the Kylon affair politically at least in the short term, to lead the way into battle against Megara in retribution for the “invasion” under Kylon. Signs point to a serious defeat around this time (cf. nn. –) and, if the Alkmeonidai were the Athenian war leaders during such a defeat, it is surely possible that several of them were left dead on the field.That would help to explain why some of the guilty dead Alkmeonidai were later exhumed and their bones cast beyond the borders of Attika, especially if we imagine that the expulsions from Athens took place no long time after the Kylonian crime. Of course, that defeat and those deaths would have further enfeebled the Alkmeonidai, making them even easier prey to their enemies. See nn. –. . Who were they? They may have been aristocratic, perhaps the Kephissian Plain landholders and their farmer adherents who had the most to lose during invasions or raids by the Megarians, just as they did from the Spartans during the Peloponnesian war. (Perhaps these are the ones who were later centered around Lykourgos, the son of Aristolaïdes [Hdt. ..; cf. Lavelle , –]; see also chapter III..A..) Contrary to Plut. Sol. , although the conclusion was understandably based on outcomes, the anti-Alkmeonid party can hardly be characterized as “the surviving Kylonians” (cf. French ; and Holladay , ), since they would not have been politically viable in the aftermath. (Really, who survived to lead them?) Kylon had departed Athens alive (Thuc. ..) and was not recalled, reinstated, or for that matter involved in Athens’ affairs thereafter from all we know: his crime after all was treason (prodo–sia), a capital offense, just as it had been those of his supporters, and he and his cause could not be revived or rehabilitated. (Hopper’s suggestion [, ], that Kylon “continue[d] hostilities from there” [sc. Megara], does not seem credible, for, apart from the anomaly of directing efforts from Megara, Kylon was unacceptable to the Athenians as a fellow citizen let alone a leader. What had

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happened to his followers did not legitimate his treason; he could not be a leader of the Athenians any more than could the Alkmeonidai. Kylon was of no further use to Theagenes after his failure, unless of course the Megarians could recapture Athens and successfully install Kylon as tyrant over the objections of the Athenians.) In fact, that could not happen. Cf. also n.  and . . Cf. French , , although it seems wrong to view the Alkmeonidai as “radical” (and so cool and politically calculating) more than overcome by the fear of losing power and their own displacement. Nor, on the other hand, it is right to call the anti-Alkmeonids a “narrow oligarchic regime” (Legon , ), since that identification depends on an inferred polarity with the “radical”Alkmeonidai. (These are in fact outmoded designations.) To term the Alkmeonidai “radical” is no more than to speculate from anachronism, for sources no earlier than the late fourth century B.C.E. are hardly credible for issues of ideology in the early sixth century B.C.E. The Alkmeonidai were radical only in the sense that they were shut out from traditional paths to power in the aftermath of the Kylonian sphage– . Surely, the political power of the anti-Alkmeonids, whoever they might have been (cf. n. ) derived ex tempore from public revulsion for the sacrilege and savagery of the Alkmeonidai (cf. n. ). (Wickersham’s note [, , n. ], is confusing: Solon’s poem tells us that Megara was lost, and there is no reason to disbelieve the report that the Megarians “struck back” after Kylon’s failed coup [cf. Figueira a, ]: cf. n. . Contra Wickersham [], the crisis over Salamis was not settled by Spartan arbitration more than it was by the victory of Peisistratos at Nisaia.) . Hdt. ., .; on Phrynichos and the Capture of Miletos, see Rosenbloom ; cf. How and Wells , .; and Dillon and Garland , ; cf. also Lavelle , , n. . Herodotos’ emphasis is exactly on the emotional response that the drama caused in the Athenians. . Cf. Daverio-Rocchi , . . Freeman , ; Frost , ; Podlecki , –. I am not suggesting that Solon’s exhortation was the sole cause for the renewal of hostilities with Megara. Rather it appears that Solon articulated a common feeling among the Athenians about Salamis and, voicing that articulation, galvanized the Athenians into action (cf. n. ). Obviously, other, less obvious economic and political causes (perhaps among others) must also have played a substantial part in the renewal of the war: cf. French . Cf. also de Libero , ; section .A.; and nn. , , , and . . Cf. Linforth , –; Sealey , –; and Stahl , ff. Daimachos of Plataia (FrGrHist  F ) seems to have denied any connection between Solon and the war with Megara, even in view of the poem Salamis and other traditions about Solon’s involvement (cf. Podlecki , –).This might well have been due to the conflation of the roles of Solon and Peisistratos; to the fact that the preponderance of testimonies Daimachos deemed valid gave Peisistratos the greater, indeed eclipsing, role; and to his own knowledge of the chronological impossibility of Solon and Peisistratos fighting in the same phase of the war (cf. section .E). If that is so, then we might imagine that there would be nothing in Solon’s poems referring or alluding to a role for him in the Megarian war. On the other hand, it also is possible that Daimachos “overlooked” those references or allusions for his own reasons. Cf.Toepffer , –.

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. Cf. Solon F , W: i[omen ej~ Salami`na machsovmenoi peri; nhvsou (cf. n. ). Cf. Figuiera a, :“The capture of the island is also an impromptu measure appropriate to a situation where Solon convinced the Athenians by his elegy to take action. He immediately gathered volunteers and attacked the island.”What Figuiera says here is founded on Plutarch’s testimony. Ancient testimony regarding the Megarian war is vexed and controversial and promotes little confidence that, apart from some generalities and details, it is based on anything like an undistilled memory of historical events: see sections D.. and E;Toepffer () –; and nn. –. It is to be noted that the exhortations of Kallinos of Ephesos (Fr  W) are all in second- and third-person aspects.Thus, it seems that Kallinos, though exhorting others to war, is not offering to lead. . Cf. Ath.Pol. . (cf. Rhodes , –); and Plut. Sol. .. Cf. also Linforth ,  and . . Linforth (, ) suggests that Solon spurred five hundred Athenians, “stimulated at once by their loyalty to Athens and her gods and by the prospects of the immediate attainment of their political and economic aspirations.”The suggestion relies on Plutarch’s testimony to the effect that the attacking force Solon is said to have led to Salamis (Sol. .) was promised land and freedom on Salamis as part of his exhortation and so as part of his poem. Solon’s ability to distribute conquered land on his own aside, his promise of “freedom”—as indeed the greater part of this story—is surely invented and anachronized. . Plut. Sol. .–, .–; Paus. ..; Polyain. ... Cf. How and Wells , .; Linforth ,  (“Both of these accounts are legendary” [although cf. ]), ; Freeman , ; Legon , –; Andrewes b, ; and de Libero , and n..Taylor (,–) suggests that Plutarch’s two versions of Solon’s involvement in the war for Salamis are really part of one account. Unfortunately, although Taylor mentions them, she does not examine Plutarch’s sources thoroughly or adequately explore the folktale characteristics of especially the first version (cf. Linforth , ). (Taylor cites the similarity of the rape story in Plutarch’s account to Herodotos’ account of the “Lemnian deeds” [.;Taylor , , n. ; cf. also appendix B]. This had already been suggested and investigated to some extent by Toepffer [, ff.]; cf. also Linforth , –.) The truth is we cannot say with complete assurance what is made up and what is not in sources like Plutarch: testimonia must be evaluated case by case.Taylor is quite right to point out [], however, that, of the two, the second version is more conventional and possesses fewer earmarks of folktale.She finally admits to aporia (haplessness) (),as must we all when it comes to what Solon actually accomplished on, around, or concerning Salamis (cf. section E). . Cf. Legon , ; and Andrewes b, . . Cf. French , , n. ; Legon ,  and –; and Figueira a, . . Cf. Figueira a, ; Chambers , ; and de Libero , –. Cf. also appendix C. . See appendix C. . Cf. Rhodes , – (although I confess I do not know what he has in mind when he states that he prefers that the pre-Kleisthenic strate– goi “were occa-

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      – 

sional, ad hoc appointments for wars fought outside of Attica” [my italics]). Cf. also Andrewes a,  (“[the] commander should be the polemarch as is generally supposed”). Cf. n. ; and Frost , . De Libero , –, nn. –, offers a useful short presentation of viewpoints. Cf. also n. . . Herodotos applies strate–gie– to the positions of Harpagos (..), Otanes (.), and Mardonios (..): cf. de Libero , , n. . Thus, contra Wheeler ,  and , n. : I disagree that strate–gos/strate–gia are terms anachronized by Herodotos to the sixth century (cf. Hammond , , n. ): these could hardly have come out of nothing to become institutionalized in the Athenian democracy of the late sixth century and must have had some history of usage. Indeed, strate–gos is a very logical term to describe an “army leader” and could have superseded older, now obsolete terms (e.g., polemarchos) precisely because of the changes wrought by the Megarian war: see n. . . Cf. Kinzl a, ; and n. . On the relationship of the archon polemarchos to the elected strate– goi in the fifth century, see Hamel , –. . Cf.Andrewes b, ; Figueira a, ; and Podlecki , , n. . . Cf. Freeman , . Contra Freeman,“Aristotle” does not imply that he (sc. Peisistratos) had nothing to do with the capture of Salamis: on the contrary, the author of the Ath.Pol. refutes the association of Solon and Peisistratos on chronological grounds. This says nothing about Peisistratos’ role in relation to Salamis. Cf. Andrewes b, . Cf. also Taylor ,  (“I doubt capture of Nisaia would rank above capture of Salamis, and I think it highly unlikely that Herodotus would fail explicitly to mention Peisistratos’ capture of Salamis . . . if it occurred”). Taylor (, n. ) is further “not convinced” by an argument based on later writers making over the victory from Peisistratos to Solon (e.g., Kahrstedt , , n. ): “If the tradition could preserve for Herodotus the information that Peisistratos captured Nisaia, why not that he captured Salamis?” These views and questions are framed without reference to the context of Herodotos’ sources. Cf. section .A. and nn.  and . . Cf. Beloch , .; and Taylor , –. But cf. also n.  and section .E. . Cf.Thuc. .. (and Hornblower , ). . We might ask why Peisistratos would be connected to Eleusis at all unless it had figured somehow in his military career before Nisaia. Of course, it is possible that the terms of the story (Athenian women worshiping, Megarians raiding by ships) required military “action” to be set there. In this case, Eleusis then became no more than the backdrop for Peisistratos’ ambush (cf. nn.  and ). . Cf.Thuc...– (and Hornblower , ). . Cf. Front. ..; sections D and F; and n. . . Cf. Daverio Rocchi , –; Frost , ; and Sancisi-Weerdenburg a, . . .: ajpwtevrw th`~ povlew~.Thucydides (4.66.3) informs us that Nisaia was about eight stades from Megara. Strabo, on the other hand (9.1.4), states that the port was eighteen stades from the city, a clear error on his part (but cf. Legon 1981, 27). There is no indication in Aineias that Peisistratos sailed into the port, however (but cf. n. 145). Cf. Figueira 1985a, 283.

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144. While not stated explicitly in the account of the attack (because of a lacuna), the signal is obviously Aeneias’ lesson to his reader.The anecdote serves as an example of the efficacy of prearranged signals (suvsshma) [double signals?]). See also n. . . The lacuna in Aineias’ text deprives us of some details, but Frontinus and Justin/Trogus, whose source will have been the same as Aineias’ (if indeed it was not Aineias), supply information making it quite certain that Peisistratos’ men were told not just to attack but actually to slay some of the Megarians.Whitehead’s treatment of the lacuna (, ), seems too conservative in light of the similarities between Aineias and Frontinus. . Legon , ; cf. Figueira a, . . Cf. Hopper , . Cf. also n. . . Possible sources for this story are Hellanikos or Kleidemos (but cf. n. ). Implicit in it, however, are elements of Athenian popular tradition (cf., e.g., Linforth , ; and Freeman , ; cf. n. ), which emphasize, above all, the cunning of the Athenians (cf. Hdt. ..; cf. Lavelle , –) through their forebears Solon and Peisistratos. Cf. n.  and section .E. . Cf. Casson ; cf. also Gomme , .–; and Legon , –. . The implication of Aineias’account is that the Athenians disembarked where the Megarians put out in their ships for Eleusis, for the Megarians came out to meet them when they arrived in the customary place (cf. n. ). Such details and problems did not really concern Aineias, whose points were tactics and trickery, not veracious details or historical accuracy. See n. . . Cf. Figueira a, . . Plut. Sol. .–; Poly. ..–;Ael. VH .; cf. Figueira a, –. Cf. nn.  and . . This similarity undermines the credibility of the story about Solon (Plut. Sol. .): contra Figueira a,  (see n. ); and Taylor , . Cf. also section .E. . A gauge of sorts for how such a capture could affect the government of Megara—or rather how the ancient reader was to understand the impact—might be found, for example, by comparing the plight of the Megarians to that of the Spartan elders after the capture of the Spartan expeditionary force on Sphakteria by the Athenians during the Peloponnesian war (Thuc. ., .–; cf. Gomme , –, –; and Hornblower , –, ). . Cf. Legon , . . Of course, we would be able to estimate the historical value of the story’s details better if Aineias’ source(s) could be ascertained. As it is, the ultimate sources appear to be the Athenians. Information could have been passed along to Aineias by one or more of the Atthidographers. If that is so, then it would be easier to account for the conflation of Solon and Peisistratos with respect of the Megarian war (cf. n. ): it derived ultimately from competing traditions (just as did the fifth-century controversy about who freed Athens: cf. Lavelle , –). Certainly, the topos of Peisistratos’ cleverness overrides history in Aineias (cf. nn.  and ).As in mythmaking, the factual “bare bones,” in this case “victory over Megara by Peisistratos in the Megarid,” provided the superstructure for invention (cf. n. ). Interestingly, this garbled transmission, presumably popular at its origins, survived the official antityrannism of the early fifth century, although it suffered as a result of suppressed or lost



      – 

memory about it (cf. Lavelle , , n. ). In fact, we do not know exactly what Aineias embellished or removed or what he actually received. . Cf. ibid., –; , . . Legon , , seems to accept the anecdotes of Athenian cleverness as factual, but cf. Lavelle , ff. . Cf. Thuc. . (cf. Gomme , ; and Hornblower , –); and .. (cf. Hornblower , ). . Cf.Thuc. . (cf. Gomme , –; and Hornblower , –); and . (cf. Gomme , –; and Hornblower , –). . Cf.Thuc. ..– (cf. Hornblower , ). . It is highly doubtful that the Athenians put out from Eleusis for Nisaia. Eleusis was designated by Aineias (or his source) as the point of embarkation perhaps in order to unite a religious festival and female celebrants with Peisistratos’ subsequent victory on Megarian soil.Thus two independent threads combine here (cf. nn.  and ). . Hdt. . (cf. How and Wells , .); cf. also Corn. Nep. ..–. . Cf.Thuc. .. and .– (cf. Gomme , ; and Hornblower , , –). . Cf.Thuc. .. (a Peloponnesian garrison holds Nisaia to ensure that the Megarians will not defect to the Athenians; cf. also n. ); and ... . Cf.Thuc. ... Cf. also Schachermeyr b, ; and Stahl , . But cf. Berve , .. . Cf. Ath.Pol. .: sfovdrÆ eujdokimhkw;~ ejn tw`/ pro;~ Megareva~ polevmw/ ktl. (Cf. Rhodes , –.) Cf. also n. ; and Wheeler , ff. . Hdt. .;  (cf. Paus. .. [Marathon painting]; cf. also Francis and Vickers ; and Castriota , –). (Miltiades, too was pictured in the Marathon painting of the Painted Stoa [Stoa Poikile–] in the forefront of the battle. Cf. also Aisch. .; and Corn. Nep. ..–.) . Cf. Lavelle a, ff. and ; see also n. . . The first historical example of an Athenian athlete-general is Phrynon, a near contemporary of Solon’s, who led an Athenian colony to Sigeion and was killed there in combat with Pittakos of Mityle– ne– (cf. Str. ..; Stahl , , ; and Figueira , –). On Pittakos, see de Libero , –. . Stahl , –, rightly links the Athenian need for the island with possible threats from Aegina (cf. n. ). If the ancient city of the island was oriented with respect to Aegina (Str. ..), that might suggest an original Aeginetan settlement but at all events Salamis’ earlier importance to Aegina (cf.Toepffer , –; Figueira , –). . Cf. nn. , , , and . . Cf. Plut. Sol. .–; Str. ..–; Ael. VH .; Arist. Rhet. b; Diog. Laert..;and n..Cf.Linforth ,;Freeman ,–;Highbarger , –; Legon , , –; Figueira a, –; Podlecki , ; Stahl , –; de Libero , ; and Taylor , –. (The dating of the arbitration has been placed by some at the end of the century because of the names of the arbitrators, “Kleomenes” and “Amompharetos.” These are identified with the Spartan king and the insubordinate Spartan officer of Plataia [Hdt. .–]: Beloch , .–; Linforth ; Figueira a, ; cf. Highbarger , , n. .

Notes to Pages –

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There is no reason to think, however, that there was but one Kleomenes and one Amompharetos or to discount earlier Spartan arbitration.) Cf. How and Wells , ., on the famous Amompharetos. . See n. . In Pausanias (..) Philaios becomes the son of Eurysakes and surrenders the island (cf. nn.  and ). . Pausanias’ version (see n. ) makes the association of Salamis, Athens, and the Peisistratids closer and so becomes even more transparent as Peisistratid propaganda. . Cf. nn.  and . . Cf. Kirk , –; and Slings , . Cf. also Highbarger , – (especially –, n. ). Cf. also nn.  and . . Cf. [Plato] Hipp. b; Cic. De Or. ..; and Hes. s.v. Braurwnivoi~. Cf. also Merkelbach ;Davison ;Böhme ;Lavelle ,–;Ritoók ; Shapiro ; de Libero , ; and Slings , –. See also nn.  and . . Cf. Manfredini and Piccirilli , ff. . The earliest evidence,of course,derives from [Plato] Hipparchos b.It gives credit to Hipparchos, the son of Peisistratos, for introducing Homer to the Athenians. Diogenes (.) is, of course, very late. Cf. n. . (It is to be noted also that Diogenes states that Solon turned the Athenians toward the Thracian Chersone– sos [.], but this is obviously wrong [cf. Hdt. .. –; and, e.g., Figueira , ff.]. This is surely another case of a “makeover” from Peisistratos to Solon.) . Cf. Gomme , –; and Hornblower , . . On Thuc. ., cf. Hornblower , –. On the Peisistratidai and Delos, see Fornis Vaquero ; and appendix G. On Herodotos .., cf. How and Wells , .. . Cf.Toepffer , –; Parker , ; and Hornblower , . . Dorians unwelcome: see n. . Of course, it is not impossible that Peisistratos examined or had examined the graves taken up on Delos as to content, as perhaps he had done already on Salamis. See appendix G. . Cf. n. . . Hdt. ...The connection between Peisistratos’ part in the war and Spartan arbitration is alluded to by Andrewes (a, ). Of course, this introduces the question of chronology affecting the Spartan arbitration: cf. Piccirilli , –. It is of course quite possible that Spartan intervention is complete fiction: cf. n. . . Cf. Hdt. ..– (and n. ). Cf. also Figuiera a, . . a{ma triakontovrou sumparapleouvsh~ uJformivsasqai th`/ Salamivni kata; chlhvn tina proj~ th;n Eu[boian ajpoblevpousan. Martina (, ), obelizes Eu[boian, offering two variants, Nivsaian [Sint.] and Qumaitivda [Wil.] (cf.Toepffer , –). While I understand the discomfort that the reading Eu[boian causes, there is no good reason to obelize. Figueira (a, ) observes that the mention of a triakontor “points toward an early date and an improvised sortie.” Cf. also nn. –. . Cf. Str. ... . Soph. F  (Nauck) (= Str. ..) describes the diakria as “the garden lying opposite to Euboia.” Cf. Lavelle , , n. ; and Figueira (a, , n.), whose suggestion, that Solon’s action depended on his deciphering the “cryptic language of an oracular response,” is ingenious.

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      – 

. It could be said that Philaios, when he came to eastern Attika, anchored offshore “facing Euboia” and that the link with such a phrase could be through him, a Salaminian.As retromigrating descendants of Philaios to Salamis,the Athenians would then be hearkening back to the original migration from Salamis. Of course any such political “spin” propaganda is much more reasonably originated with Peisistratos, an inhabitant of the eastern Attic region, than with Solon. Cf. n. . . Cf.Wilamowitz , .ff.; Highbarger , , n. , and –, n. ; and Figueira a, . On the discreditation of the Peisistratids, see Lavelle , ff. Stahl’s speculation (, )—“Obgleich Peisistratos auch Salamis als einen Teil seines persönlichen Aussenbesitzes betrachtet haben etc.”—seems unwarranted, since there is no hint of personal aggrandizement in otherwise hostile sources. . Solon is identified as a Salaminian by Diogenes Laertios (.), but the identification is at least as old as the fourth century B.C.E.: Aristotle reports, incredibly in Plutarch’s estimation (Plut. Sol. . [= F ]), that Solon’s ashes were scattered over the island. In fact, the identification of Solon with Salamis and the ashes scattering is at least as old as the Athenian comic poet Kratinos (cf. Linforth , –; Freemam , ; and Legon , ). A statue of Solon was set up no later than the early fourth century in the agora of Salamis (cf. Dem. .; Aesch. .; and Anth.Pal. .). On the evidence, Solon was of the old Athenian nobility (cf. Davies , ), and in view of Salamis’ political marginality later it seems quite unlikely that Solon would have reached the Athenian offices he did as a Salaminian. On the other hand, an invented connection to Salamis would have served Solon and been readily accepted by the Athenians. Of course, the connection could well have been based for them on nothing more than F –W and Solon’s involvement with Salamis during the Megarian war: see nn.  and . Cf. Toeppfer .

  . Archonship of Komeas: Ath.Pol. .. Cf. Rhodes , ; and Chambers , . On this date and the relative date of the victory at Nisaia, see appendices A and D. . oujk w\n tau`ta parainevsanto~ Civlwno~ peivsesqai qevlein to;n ïIppokravtea: genevsqai oiJ meta; tau`ta to;n Peisivstraton tou`ton, o}~ stasiazovntwn tw`n paravlwn kai; tw`n ejk tou` pedivou ÆAqhnaivwn, kai; tw`n me;n proestew`to~ Megaklevo~ tou` ÆAlkmevwno~, tw`n de; ejk tou` pedivou Lukouvrgou 〈tou`〉 ÆAristolai?dew, (sc. oJ Peisivstrato~) katafronhvsa~ th;n turannivda h[geire trivthn stavsin, sullevxa~ de; stasiwvta~ kai; tw`/ lovgw/ tw`n uJperakrivwn prosta;~ mhcana`tai toiavde· trwmativsa~ eJwuton te kai; hJmiovnou~ h[lase ej~ th;n ajgorhvn to; zeu`go~ wJ~ eJkpefeugw;~ tou;~ ejcqrouv~, oi{ min ejlauvnonta ej~ ajgro;n hjqevlhsan ajpolevsai dh`qen, ejdevetov te tou` dhvmou fulakh`~ tino~ pro;~ aujtou` kurh`sai, provteron eujdokimhvsa~ ejn th`/ pro;~ Megareva~ genomevnh strathgivh/, Nivsaiavn te eJlw;n kai; a[lla ajpodexavmeno~ megavla e[rga. oJ de; dh`mo~ oJ tw`n ÆAqhnaivwn ejxapathqei;~, e[dwkev oiJ tw`n ajstw`n katalevxa~ a[ndra~ touvtou~ oi} dorufovroi me;n oujk ejgevnonto Peisistravtou, korunhfovroi dev: xuvlwn gar koruvna~ e[conte~ ei{pontov oiJ o[pisqe. sunepanastavnte~ de; ou|toi a{ma Peisistravtw/ e[scon th;n aJkrovpolin. Cf. Ath.Pol. ..–.; Plut. Sol. ; and Diod. Sik. .. (these, including of course the first, are almost com-

Notes to Pages –

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pletely derivative from Herodotos’ account and of limited historical value: cf. nn. –). Cf.Turner , –; Creuzer and Baehr , –; Stein , –; How and Wells , .–; Rhodes , – (on Ath.Pol.); McNeal , –; Stanton , – (on Herodotos), – (on Ath.Pol. –), – (on Plutarch ) (all with translations); Fornara and Samons , –; and Lavelle , –, nn. – (for further textual bibliography and commentary on .. [the “parties” section]). See also n. . . The treatment of Peisistratos’ first attempt at tyranny in this chapter is a version of that found in Lavelle , , and especially . The latter article appeared in Classic et Mediaevalia –, and I thank the editors and publishers for their kind permission to draw on it. . Cf. Lavelle , ; , ; and , , n. . Cf. also How and Wells , .–; and Bencsik , , n. . . A notable exception is Kinzl . Cf. also Sayce , , n.  (who appears also to dissent). . Cf. Sealey ; Lewis , –; Bengston and Bloedow , ; Frost , –; Manville , – and n. ; Stein-Hölkeskamp , – and n. ; and Meier , . . Cf.Hopper ,esp.ff.;Berve ,.– (geographical/personal); Andrewes a, –, esp. ; Stahl , ; Ellis and Stanton , esp. –; Stanton ,  (aristocratic/regional); Stein-Hölkeskamp , –; Fornara and Samons , –; and de Libero , –. . Cornelius , –, esp. – (social/political); Schachermeyr b,  (social/economic); Hignett , – (political/economic); French , –, esp. –; French  (personal/social/economic); Ehrenberg , – (a combination of regional and social conflicts, clan feuds, and ambitions of individual leaders); Mossé , – (regional and aristocratic character for “plain” and “coast,” social [= de– mos] for Peisistratos’ constituency); Kluwe ; Holladay  (combination); and Stein-Hölkeskamp , –. Cf. also Hopper .The curious article of Chambers () apparently dispenses with Herodotos’ testimony altogether (cf. also Giorgini , –). . Cf. Holladay , ; Hopper ,  and n. ; Ehrenberg , –; Andrewes a, ff.; and Fornara and Samons , –. . Cf., for example, Fornara and Samons ,  and –. Cf. also Jacoby , ; Kinzl , ff.; and Lavelle . . Cf. Lavelle , ff.; and chapter I.. . Cf. Lavelle , –; Raaflaub . . Cf. Lavelle , , n. , and –. . Cf. Hdt. . . : Athens is “held and rent apart by Peisistratos” (cf. Lavelle , , n. ; see also chapter I, n. ); ..: Peisistratos insults Megakles’ daughter sexually, thus acting the part of a typically “bad tyrant” (see section .C); ..: Peisistratos exiled Kimon koalemos (who was later killed by Peisistratos’ sons); Isok. .–: the Peisistratidai did the city much harm;Arist. Pol. a, –: the Peisistratidai overworked and overtaxed the Athenians, keeping them apart and outside the city (cf. also Ath.Pol. ., ). On tyranny as evil, cf. Herodotos .– (the “debate on government”; Barceló , –; Lavelle , , n. ; and chapter , n. ). On popular Athenian hostility to the tyranny in late-fifth-century Athens (in

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      – 

relation to Thucydides), cf. Dover ,  and ; Rosivach , –; Lavelle , ff.; and Lavelle , – and n. ; and Raaflaub . . Cf. Lavelle , – and n. . . Cf. Lavelle .The obvious initial error is the coordination in time of the antityrant Chilon of Sparta (Ryl. Pap. , col. , –) with Hippokrates, the father of Peisistratos. By all accounts, Peisistratos was born around  B.C.E. (cf. Schachermeyr a, ; Davies , ; and appendix D), while Chilon came to prominence as ephor in – B.C.E. (or more likely –?) at the earliest (cf. Diog. Laert. .; cf. also Develin , ) and, according to the papyrus, was a famous antityrannist even later.The aim of Herodotos’ source seems to have been to create an irony, the discrepancy in time notwithstanding.To have the far-sighted antityrannist sage declare to Hippokrates at Olympia that he should not beget a child (who was to become a tyrant) was too good to forego merely to uphold chronological accuracy or even plausibility. Of course, this manipulation is in keeping with the Athenians’ matching of the “tyrant slaying” and the establishment of democracy (cf. Lavelle , –), of Alkmeon and Kroisos’ treasure chamber (cf. nn. –), of Solon and Kroisos (Hdt. .; How and Wells , .–; Rhodes , –), and even of Solon and Peisistratos (chapter II..A.. and appendix C..C.). Chronological accuracy seems to have been easily foregone by many ancient authors to achieve such coordinations. . Cf. Ath.Pol. .; Busolt , .; Hignett , ; Mossé , ff.; Fornara and Samons , ; Stein-Hölkeskamp , –; and de Libero , , n. . . What Solon states explicitly in his poems about politics (e.g., that astoi were persuaded by speakers [Fr. : cf. n. ; and Rihll –, n. ]) and the conditions that his statements portray (e.g., political assemblies in Athens [Fr. , .: cf. n. ]) along with what is implicit but obvious in the supplementary information that appears in the Ath.Pol., Plutarch, and so on (e.g., Solon sets the “notables” [gno–rimoi] in opposition to the de– mos [Ath.Pol. ]), should be distinguished from the latter’s more suspect interpretations of Solon’s poems (e.g., that Solon actually feigned “madness” when he sang the poem Salamis [Fr. ; Plut. Sol. .–]; cf. chapter II..A.).While the latter are not really central to the parties anyway, individual appraisal of their historical value is quite beyond the scope of this book. . Jacoby , . Rhodes (, –) shows that where AP exceeded Herodotos in regard to the parties the account is highly suspect; cf. Stahl , ff. Cf. Sealey , ; and Holladay , – (who nevertheless equivocates). Cf. also Hignett , –; Rhodes ; Fornara and Samons , –, –; and Goušchin . On the Ath.Pol. and Plutarch, see also nn. –. . Cf. Rhodes , ; Ehrenberg , ; Stein-Hölkeskamp , ; Stanton , ; and Cawkwell , . Goušchin () builds his case for Peisistratos’ prostasia (leadership) of the de– mos on the Ath.Pol.’s labeling of Peisistratos as “most democratic” (de–motikotatos). But this is to take the author as veracious where he is most untrustworthy: the tripartite scheme of “left, right, and center parties” is nowhere at home in early-sixth-century Athens: cf., for example, Rhodes . Cf. see also Osborne ,  and n. . . Cf. Hignett , ; Holladay , ; Hopper , –; Cawkwell , ; and n. .

Notes to Pages –

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. Cf. Hignett , ; Holladay , ; Hopper , –; and Cawkwell , . . Cf. Hopper ; Holladay , ; Fornara and Samons , –; and Stein-Hölkeskamp , –. . Cf. Mossé , ; and Rhodes , , who points out that survival of documentary evidence attesting to Aristion’s “motion” beyond the sixth century is highly unlikely and that the use of gravyanto~ is definitely anachronized; cf. also Lavelle , –, n. ; and Singor , . Contra How and Wells , .; Stein-Hölkeskamp , , n. ; and de Libero , , n. , who seem to accept the Aristion decree, its problems of transmission notwithstanding. On the korune– phoroi, see chapter II..C. and n. . . On Plutarch ,. and the parties of Attika,see,for example,Holladay , ; and Ellis and Stanton , ff. . Fr. ,  and . In Fr. , Solon terms one group dhvmwi (l.) and the other o{soi de; meivzou~ kai; bivhn ajmeivnone~ (l.). Fragments of Solon’s poems are from West . . Cf., for example, de Libero , ff. . The “facts” about the “tyranny” of Damasias, which, according to the author of the Ath.Pol. (.; cf. Dillon and Garland , –), occurred after he prolonged his term of office as archon inordinately, and its aftermath are highly suspect (cf. Mossé , –; Rhodes , ; Stahl , –; Stanton , – and n. ; Stein-Hölkeskamp , ; de Libero , –; and Cadoux , –).There need be no doubt that Damasias continued his archonship after its official end (cf. Develin  ) or that he was ejected from it finally. Such facts might reasonably have been attached, at least, to a reasonably sound oral tradition that found its way into the Ath.Pol.’s sources (although Cadoux states that one of the sources followed by AP was Demetrios of Phaleron).While it is possible that Damasias was a real tyrant, it is difficult to believe that his expulsion resulted in the rather neat, eminently civilized solution of the balanced collegium, which then came into its existence (contra Figueira , –; cf. Day and Chambers , –). Damasias appears to have been one of those politicians Solon mentions, who, like Megakles and Peisistratos, won and then lost consent for political primacy. . Ath.Pol. .. Cf. Ath.Pol. ., where the gno– rimoi are also explicitly opposed to the de– mos. Cf. Rhodes , – and ; and Stein-Hölkeskamp , . . This definition of de–mos, which is operative throughout this volume, derives from the descriptions of it or allusions made to it or its actions that Solon makes in his poetry: the word will be qualified, explicitly or implicitly, throughout by politically active or Solonian to distinguish it from the de– mos “created” by Kleisthenes, from the fifth-century de– mos, and from notions found in secondary scholarship, ancient and modern.The early-sixth-century Athenian de– mos, which Solon sets at odds with oi} dÆ ei\con duvnamin kai; crhvmasin h\san ajghtoiv, cannot have been simply the “entire population of the state in contrast to the rulers” (Anhalt ,  and n. ) or “the common mass, in contrast to the powerful and wealthy” (Gerber ,  [on the same page, however, Gerber calls the de– mos “the poor”]).The gno– rimoi had to have had adherents among the hoi polloi to have been at all viable as a political grouping, and the lines of Solon’s contemporary Theognis (–, –) suggest a potent sociopolitical mix at Megara based on nothing more than a shared interest in

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     –

chre– mata (cf. Stahl , ff.). From all appearances, chre– mata was the common aim and defining characteristic of the politically active Athenian de– mos according to Solon. Contra Anhalt , , n. , it is impossible to agree that “Solon seems to use the word (sc. de–mos) in the same way to refer to those without political power,” since the de– mos could not have forced the so-called Solonian crisis, would not have been addressed by Solon so frequently, or would have been the recipients of the benefits of any of Solon’s reforms unless it possessed at least some political weight: cf. nn. –.As it is, the de– mos’ political power was definite and definitely asserted during the early stages of the Kylonian crisis: I do not know on what grounds David (, , n. ), makes the astoi the “whole body of citizens as distinct from the lower classes, the dh`mo~,” for the distinction makes little sense in view of () Solon’s polarization of de–mos and gno–rimoi, and () the interchangeability of astoi and de–mos in Solon F , ll. – (cf. n. ). Rhodes (, –) notes the ambiguity of the term de–mos. On Solonian “democracy” cf.Wallace . . Cf. Fr. c, in which Solon addresses the wealthy in the exclusive second-person plural and the nonwealthy in the inclusive first-person plural; and Fr. . For what it is worth, AP states that Solon kai; o{lw~ aijei; th;n aijtivan th`~ stavsew~ ajnavptei toi`~ plousivoi~ (.). Cf. also David , . . Cf. n. .At Xenophon (Mem. ..–), de–mos is to be understood as tou;~ pevnhta~ tw`n politw`n (cf. Rhodes , ). . Frs. , ll. –: aujtoi; de; fqeivrein megavlhn povlin ajfradivhisinƒƒajstoi; bouvlontai crhvmasi peiqovmenoi,ƒƒdhvmou qÆ hJgemovnwn a[diko~ novo~, oi|sin eJtoi`monƒƒu{brio~ eJk megavlh~ a[lgea polla; paqei`n. (We note that astoi and de–mos appear interchangeable here; cf. Gerber , .). Contra Campbell (, ), the dhvmou hJgemovne~ are not “the nobles, the governing class”: cf. nn. , , , , , and ). , –, : oiJ dÆ ejfÆ aJrpagh`isin h\lqon: ejlpivdÆ ei\con ajfnehvn,ƒƒkadovk[e]on e{kasto~ aujtw`n o[lbon euJrhvsein polu;n, . . . nu`n dev moi colouvmenoi (cf. Gerber [, ], who equates oiJ dÆ ejfÆ aJrpagh`isin with the de– mos). , –: dhvmwi me;n eij crh; diafavdhn ojneidivsai,ƒƒa{³ nu`n e[cousin ou[potÆ ojfqa³lm ³ oi`sin a]nƒƒeu{donte~ ei\don ktl. Cf. also David , . . Cf. de Libero , ff. . The de– mos’ avarice: Frs. , –,  (see n. ). ,: dhvmwi me;n ga;r e[dwka tovson gevra~ o{sson ejparkei`n (contra Anhalt , –, geras must mean “reward” here rather than “privilege,” since material enrichment [= “reward”] is explicitly and repeatedly stated by Solon elsewhere as among the de– mos’ expectations; political gain [= “privilege”], on the other hand, is not really in accordance with the de– mos’ expectations: cf. nn.  and ). Promises made to the de– mos: Frs. , : kai; dih`lqon wJ~ uJpescovmhn (cf.West , :“carried out all that I promised”); , : a} me;n ga;r ei\pa,su;n qeoi`sin h[nusa (West’s translation [],“the decrees I uttered had the blessings of the gods,” does not, in my view, capture the sense of the Greek as well as Anhalt’s here [, ],“for with the help of the gods, I accomplished what I said.”) Cf. also David , . . The unhappiness of the de– mos and the gno– rimoi is stated explicitly in Ath.Pol. ., but Solon’s apologies (Frs. , , ,  [these last for not taking the tyranny], , and ) are preponderantly directed toward the de– mos for failing to meet its expectations. Cf. also David , . Plutarch (.) states that both sides urged Solon to take the tyranny, and that is doubtful. It was not in the interests of the gno– rimoi,

Notes to Pages –



however, for a tyranny to be established (cf. Holladay , ), and they are unlikely to have urged it on Solon. Solon, himself an aristocrat, equates tyranny with undue advantage for the kakoi (Fr. , ll.–), an equation that must eliminate the gno– rimoi as serious sponsors of tyranny for him. Cf. also chapter II, n. . . Cf. Frs. , –, – (sunovdoi~ I take to mean “meetings” or “assemblies,” its root sense, not “associations” [so Campbell , ] or “conspiracies” [so Gerber , ]); , ; and , –. Cf. also Kinzl , . . Frs. ; c (monition to those with megas nous [the gno– rimoi?]);  (how the de– mos should be led);  (the de– mos’ susceptibility to public speakers: cf. also Fr. );  (the Athenians’ general susceptibility to glib speech/speakers);  (address to the wealthy and encouragement for those without appreciable chre– ma [= de– mos]); ,  (justifications for failing to become tyrant: these would not reasonably have been needed for the gno– rimoi [cf. n. ]);  (defense for failing to fulfill promises to those who wished to become wealthy [= the de– mos]); (defense for failing to fulfill promises); , ll.– (complaint and defense, description of mediation). Cf. Frs.  and  (encouraging addresses to those without appreciable chre– ma [= de– mos]). . For what it is worth, the Ath.Pol. (.) also states that the de– mos specifically precipitated the crisis. Solon’s promises to the de– mos: Frs. , ; , –, and ; cf. Frs. ,  (the astoi are persuaded by chre– mata); , – (the astoi look to the tongue and the words of a wily man). Cf. David , ff. (David [] suggests that Solon was the first de–magogos [demagogue], in Athenian history, but he is likely to have been preceded by others: see n. .) . On the oaths which Solon required of the de– mos, cf. Hdt. ... Cf. also Ath.Pol. . and Plut. Sol. . (which exaggerate to some degree: cf. Rhodes , ; and How and Wells , .). Cf. Freeman , . Of course, all Athenians, rich and poor, noble and base, must have been bound similarly. . Cf. nn. , –, and . . Cf. Frs. , ; , –; cf. Fr.  (and  in conjunction with it).The testimony of Phanias of Eresos = Plut. Sol. .. On Solon’s deception, cf. David , ff.; Anhalt , –, ; and McGlew , . Of course, Solon’s promises were made orally, as were his apologies. One presumes that by the latter Solon was attempting to salvage his standing with the de– mos (cf. Anhalt , –). Solon’s signal deception involved recitation of Salamis (Frs. –; cf. chapter II, nn. –). Cf. also David , ff. . Solon’s political career offers some illustration of all of this: Fr. , – (Solon alludes to the unrighteous leaders of the de– mos before him); Fr. , – (Solon observes that at present the astoi are persuaded by chre– mata and that the mind of the leaders of the de– mos is unrighteous); Fr. c (Solon appears to have become the leader of the de– mos, since he speaks of dissenters from those with a “surfeit of good things” as “we”; cf. Frs.  and , ); Fr. , – (Solon warns that the city is being destroyed by “great men and the de– mos falls to the slavery of monarchy”) in conjunction with Fr. , – (Solon complains that the astoi are misled by clever speakers); Frs. – (Solon no longer speaks as “we” or as if he is to be identified with either side; he appears to have acted in the crisis); Fr , ff. (he finally implies by his apologies to the de– mos that he had lost it; cf. Anhalt , ff.).The course of Solon’s political career, rise, floruit, and decline is more distinctly stated in the accounts of the Ath.Pol. and Plutarch, but these may justly suspected as embellished. Based on Solon’s testi-



      – 

mony, we may conclude that he promised the de– mos gain either deceptively (so Phanias [see n. ]) or in a way it misunderstood so as to win it over, that he held that support for a time, and that he subsequently lost it because the de– mos did not believe he had fulfilled those promises. Competitors are likely to have made other, better promises in the wake of Solon’s commission, especially since, given his apologies, the de– mos must have been discontented and ripe for defection: cf. nn. –. . Although the de– mos’ power was only temporarily asserted and maintained, those assertions of its power must have had reverberations and even some lasting effects nonetheless: indeed, the politicians who followed Kylon, Megakles, the father of Alkmeon, Solon, and Damasias (Ath.Pol. .–; n. ) surely made adjustments in the ways they played politics in view of their forebears’ errors. After all, they had to earn first the de– mos’ pacification, if it were hostile, then its approval, and finally its consent to be led. Such lessons as existed before Kylon were obviously not heeded by him; Isagoras (Hdt. .; Ath.Pol. . [Rhodes , ]) seems also to have ignored those who came before him. . Cf. Frs. , ; ;  (in conjunction with  and ); and Frs. ,  and ,  (Solon suggests that he kept the de– mos down whereas another could not or would not have done so). . A case in point is that of Kylon (see chapter II..A. and n. ); cf. also Lavelle , –. . Cf. n. . . This was obviously also Kylon’s need,but of course Kylon presented the Athenians with a fait accompli. See n. . . Cf. Ehrenberg , : “without the support of [the city’s] population and the ecclesia, Peisistratus would never have succeeded.” Cf. also Holladay , –; and Fornara and Samons , ; and Wallace , . Obviously, this is contra Ober , . . Holladay (,  and ) has suggested that the de– mos expected a redistribution of land when Peisistratos made his appeal for a bodyguard. Although promises of gain were surely made, such a proposal as Holladay imagines was guaranteed to evoke quite a hostile reaction from Attic landowners and seems unlikely. Peisistratos simply did not possess the power to do such things early on (see sections III..C. and .C), and even later after Palle– ne– , there is no record of such redistribution. The whole idea appears in fact to have been anachronized from later ancient examples. Cf. Hopper , ; and Goušchin , . . Cf. Ehrenberg , : “The main fault of the [sc. Herodotean] division, however, seems to be that the city had no place in it, or rather belonged to both pediou and paralia; moreover, it is known that Peisistratos as the head of the diacrii [sic] found substantial support in the city. Most of the real clashes of the groups must have occurred just there.” In fact, Solon confirms the latter judgment. Cf. also Fornara and Samons , :“the Alcmeonids seem to emerge on the Attic seacoast c.  as if they had dropped from the moon” (an interesting and pictorial way of putting their reemergence). See section .A.. . Andrewes a, : “it is easy to imagine the landowners of the plain as conservative men, even reactionaries who hoped that the reforms of Solon could still be reversed”; cf. Cornelius , ; Kluwe , ; and Stahl , . On Lykourgos, see Davies , .

Notes to Pages –



. Lewis , –; Hopper , ff.; Ehrenberg , ; Andrewes a, . . Cf.Hopper ,.The tradition of Alkmeonid association with the de– mos was quite strongly asserted by the genos at the end of the fifth century B.C.E., and the words of Alkibiades the Elder at Sparta (Thuc. ..) suggest that the association predated Kleisthenes’ prostasia of the de– mos by a good deal. Indeed, Alkibiades the Younger states that the Alkmeonid leadership of the de– mos was ancient, extending through the period of tyranny: cf. Isok. . and .Alkibiades’ statement seems actually to have been grounded in the same family “tradition” found in Herodotos involving Megakles, that is, that the Alkmeonidai were perpetually opposed to tyranny (cf. .., ., and ..; and Hornblower ,  and , who considers that Thuc. .. might presuppose Hdt. . and .). It was of course another self-serving falsehood (see n. ; cf. Lavelle , ff.). On the difficulties of associating the “party of the coast” with the geography implied, cf. Hopper , ; Andrewes a, –; and Cornelius , . Goušchin (, ff.), who apparently desperately wants to see Peisistratos as prostate–s tou de–mou, does not deal adequately with the Alkmeonid tradition of prostasia tou de–mou and, most crucially, omits to construe the word proestew`to~ at Herodotos ...This I take to be the participial form of the root for prostasiva, used to describe the position of Megakles (directly) and Lykourgos (indirectly) with respect to their parties. In Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise to power, it is Megakles, not Peisistratos, who is the prostate– s tou de– mou. Cf. also nn. –. . Hdt. ..–;Thuc. ..–; Plut. Sol. ; cf. Lavelle , , n. . . Hdt. .– (cf. How and Wells , .). Cf. McGregor , ff.; Fornara and Samons , –, esp. ;Vandiver , –; and Parker ,  and –. McGregor (, ff.) dates the marriage of Megakles and Agariste to  B.C.E., Parker (, ) a few years before that, and Davies (, ) between  and .A date later than  seems excluded in any case () because of the marriage of Megakles’ daughter to Peisistratos (Hdt. ..–)—I am assuming that she was an offspring of that marriage and that she was not under fifteen at the time—in conjunction with () the date of the “divorce,” which must have been very proximate to Peisistratos’ second expulsion from Athens (ca. – B.C.E.; cf. Rhodes , ff.; and appendices C and D). Cf. also de Libero , . . Hdt. .; Isok. .; cf. Davies , ; Flory , ; and Bockisch .Although Kroisos is specifically designated Alkmeon’s patron in Herodotos, the chronology of the Lydian king’s reign excludes the possibility: cf. Davies  (“we must understand ‘Alyattes’”). Rather than a connection with Lydia specifically (cf. How and Wells , .), the story of Alkmeon’s hoarding of gold dust suggests that the Alkmeonidai were especially remembered for returning to Athens with a large amount of metal wealth, something that Kroisos was known to have in great abundance. . Hdt. ..; Isok. .; Pind. Pyth. . and schol. ad loc. Cf. Davies , ; Smith , –; and Thomas , –. Alkmeon’s chariot victory (cf. Pind. Pyth. , ff.) is dated to  B.C.E. Cf.Thomas , , n. . On the “First Sacred War,” see Forrest , –; Lehmann , –; Tausend ; and Davies ;cf.also Stanton ,;and de Libero ,–.Robertson () argues that the First Sacred War was a myth.



      – 

. Cf. Fr. , –. I take feidovmenoi to refer to all greedy Athenians but also to have special reference to politically active members of the de– mos and their leaders, since Solon claims that these were most motivated by the prospect of gain. . Contra Goušchin , the extant, explicit evidence attaches Megakles more to the de– mos than Peisistratos. In fact, Herodotos explicitly makes reference to his prostasia: cf. nn.  and . (Thucydides [..] seems impressed by the remarkable resiliency of the Alkmeonidai.) . Contra Cawkwell (, ), who states that (sc. Peisistratos) “was joined ‘by those of his faction in the city’ and ‘others from the demes,’” implying that Peisistratos had a standing faction in Athens composed of potential fifth columnists. Herodotos (..) actually says that stasio– tai from the city arrived in his camp in Attika and that men from the demes “kept streaming in” (prosevrreon) after Peisistratos landed at Marathon. Surely these were identified after the fact, since they are also “those who preferred tyranny to freedom” (Hdt. ..; see chapter IV..B.).There is no basis for inferring a “standing faction” of Peisistratid partisans, as we have seen. Those who came to him at Palle– ne– were undoubtedly attracted by Peisistratos’ lately developed power, his chances (and chre– mata), and their future well-being in view of these. See chapter IV..B.. Again, Herodotos does not say that the “mass of the Athenians . . . opposed” (sc. Peisistratos) but rather (as Cawkwell himself states) “those who marched out in full force.” Presumably, these were all who were left who could bear arms and cared to oppose Peisistratos, possibly only the Alkmeonids around Megakles and their adherents (or then again perhaps not even these or him: we note that revisionism favorable to Megakles is replete in the digression; see sections .C. and D.).Whoever they were they were of no account in action before Peisistratos’ obviously superior forces (whether in numbers or in quality): the “men of the city,” many of them fleeing from Palle– ne– pell mell, had no stomach to oppose Peisistratos.Alkmeonid hegemony of the de– mos appears to have been broken when, just before Palle– ne– , Peisistratos induced those sizable numbers of defections: cf. Lavelle ,  and n. . See also chapter IV..B. and C. . Cf. Hopper ,  (who nevertheless does not make the connection to Megakles). . Hopper (ibid.) describes the party of Megakles as “none too strong.”The Kylonian sphage– continued to haunt the Alkmeonidai well into the fifth century (cf. section .A.. and n. ). . Andrewes a, ; cf. also Cornelius , –; Hopper , ; Fornara and Samons , –; and Manville , , n. . . Cf. chapter II, nn.  and ; and n. . . Cf. Holladay , –. . Singor (, ) unnecessarily belabors Herodotos .. (tw`n ajstw`n katalevxa~ a[ndra~) as “selected those men from the citizens” (cf. also ). The phrase means “selected citizens” or “selected men of the city.” (The obvious contrast is between the men from the city and the men from elsewhere in Attika: they are not “men of the diakria”: see n. .) Singor further reads class and economics into the korune– phoroi (viz.,“city proletariat”) and much else into the passage without justification or real regard to context. Singor struggles with the problem of why korune– phoroi instead of doryphoroi: cf. section .C. and nn. , , , and .

Notes to Pages –



. While many take the korune– phoroi to reflect the truth (cf. How and Wells , .; Boardman , –; and McGlew , –), they do not effectively explain why Peisistratos was awarded club-bearers instead of the traditional doryphoroi (cf. Rihll , , n. ), why Herodotos emphasizes the anomaly as he does, or how club-bearers could possibly hold their own against spear men. (Singor [, ] suggests that what were korune– phoroi became doryphoroi when Peisistratos gave the club-bearers spears. But that is free invention and certainly not what Herodotos says.) I take it that the substitution of korune–phoroi for doryphoroi is another element of revision in the logos, euphemizing to some extent the award of the bodyguards by the Athenian de– mos and service among them by astoi: korune– phoroi (unorthodox bodyguards) are simply not doryphoroi (orthodox bodyguards) and so cannot be held to the same accounts. Cf. Hopper , ; and Lavelle , ff. Cf. also Goušchin , –, who also notes the conspicuous absence of the hyperakrioi among the bodyguard (). See also n.  (on diakrioi/hyperakrioi). On the korune– phoroi, see section ..C and n. . . Herodotos’ designation of Peisistratos’ party as hyperakrioi is at variance with the diakrioi found in the Ath.Pol. . and Plut. Sol. . (cf. Rhodes , ; and Manville ,,n.),and that has been found very significant by some (cf.Hignett , ; Hopper , –; and Dillon and Garland , ).While Rhodes may be right in suggesting that hyperakrioi was the original name for “those beyond the hills,” it is perhaps more likely that the name is another mask for diakrioi and yet a further attempt to distance Peisistratos’ party from the veritable Attic region: the words tw`/ lovgw/, which seem to qualify prosta;~, actually stand closer to tw`n uJperakrivwn and may have been meant to qualify them to some extent. Cf. Kinzl , ; and Lavelle , , n. . . In view of Hdt. .. and what Herodotos states explicitly there, I do not know by what reasoning Cawkwell (, ) declares Peisistratos “not a popularly appointed tyrant” in the first instance. Cf. Holladay , –; Fornara and Samons , ; Goušchin . . The same overtone of external imposition of the tyranny is apparent in the deception story, which immediately follows mention of the parties: the Athenians do not appear to be completely responsible for what they do.The same sense of imposition is also apparent, but to a lesser degree, in the Phye story for much the same reasons (see section .B). Of course, Peisistratos was “divinely aided” from before his birth. The sense of external imposition is most explicit and tangible, however, in Herodotos’account of Peisistratos’third try for power,for which foreigners,not Athenians, are almost wholly responsible (Hdt. ..–; cf. Berve , .; Lavelle ,  and ff.; and Lavelle , ff.; and chapter IV..A and .B.). . The chiding of the de– mos for foolishness in Herodotos (..) is likely to be reflective of the very low esteem Athenian aristocrats had for it.Among the most outspoken of these aristocrats were the Alkmeonidai: cf. Ehrenberg , ff.; and Ostwald , –. In Herodotos, this low estimation of the de– mos probably derives from them.Alkibiades the Elder at Sparta (Thuc. ..), whose expressed sentiments are echoed elsewhere in Herodotos, calls (sc. Athenian) de– mokratia “mindless” after ranking himself among the “thoughtful people.” Such disdain for and chiding of the Athenian de– mos by the aristocracy must date at least to Solon, who also called it “empty-headed” (, : cau`no~ . . . novo~) and further castigated it for failing to heed



     – 

the warning signs of approaching tyranny (cf. F  [W]; n. ). Cf. also Lavelle , , n. , , n. , and –; Gray ; Moles , –; and n. . . Cf. chapter II..A. and nn. –. . Solon’s warnings about impending tyranny and what that meant (F – W; cf. F ), clarions really, seem to have eluded Salmon , . . Cf. Lavelle , –, n. , and , n. ; and nn. –; cf. also n. . . Cf. Hdt. .; cf. also Lavelle , ff.; cf. nn. –. . Marathon shield signal: Hdt. ..– (which shows that the notion of Alkmeonid collaboration was still quite topical in Herodotos’ time). The apology of Fornara and Samons (, ff.) for Herodotos’ defense of the Alkmeonidai, to wit, “it is inconceivable that the Alcmeonids could have attempted to prove that they could not have displayed the shield signal by urging their anti-tyrannist sentiments in the manner presented to Herodotos,” is difficult to fathom. It overlooks the fact that twenty years had passed between the expulsion of the tyrants and Marathon and that memories could have could dimmed—or at least that facts could have been reinterpreted. It also ignores the fact that bad Alkmeonid defenses are in fact preserved in Herodotos and other Greek sources. As it is, the Alkmeonid defense is no more than circumstantial and fallacious: Kallias “fearlessly” bought Peisistratid property after their expulsion, therefore he was not a collaborator (.); and “the Alkmeonidai freed Athens much more than Harmodios and Aristogeiton,” therefore they were not collaborators (..). (The Alkmeonid defense of Megakles’ collaboration was not denial but emphasis that he was resisting Peisistratos more than he was in league with him, that he really was antityrannist all along: see section .C.) Such an Alkmeonid defense in  might seem “inconceivable” to us, who have much the longer view of things and are incredulous that the Alkmeonidai would dare to introduce such feeble argumentation.Yet this type of apology, which is obviously what was offered, could have “played” for the Athenian audience, which apparently had much the shorter view of things. In straitened political circumstances, the Alkmeonidai are likely to have pled it in tandem with their stronger claim to have actually “liberated” Athens (cf. section C.). At all events, what we find in Herodotos at .–, and indeed in the Peisistratid logos, are portions of a highly transparent and inferior defense (wrought perhaps from desperation) created perhaps very likely by the essential indefensibility of their forebears’actions.In point of fact,“flawed defense” of the Alkmeonidai might best characterize Herodotos’ rendering of Peisistratid “history.” On the sixth-century archon list (IG I3 ), see chapter I, n. ; and nn. –. Marriage alliance: Isok. .; Lavelle a; Lavelle a. Cf. also n. . . Jacoby , –; cf. Gillis , –; and Lavelle , , n. . The counterarguments of Develin () and Fornara and Samons (, , n. ) et alii are not convincing because the type, the number, and the very fact of the Alkmeonids’ essentially defensive stories belie any conclusion that the Athenians actually believed their stories about their conduct under the tyrants (cf. Lavelle , , n. ). The really defensive tone of Herodotos on the shield signal (..; cf. n. ) does not suggest that even the Athenians of Herodotos’ day believed the Alkmeonid defense—nor in fact do the second and third ostracisms, which exiled two Alkmeonids who were also remembered as “kin of the tyrants” (cf. Ath.Pol. .; cf. also Lavelle a).

Notes to Pages –



That Herodotos was informed by the Alkmeonidai on Peisistratos’ rise is further indicated by the fact that, apart from Peisistratos, Megakles is the most significant and frequently named figure in the digression. Cf. Lavelle , –.The assumption is further corroborated by Herodotos’ demonstrated preference for Alkmeonid information on the tyranny together with the testimonia he supplies in the digression on Peisistratos’ rise to power. At .., Herodotos reports that at least some members of the Alkmeonid genos went into voluntary (?) exile rather than live under the Peisistratid regime after Palle– ne– .The assertion corresponds to the celebrated passages in Herodotos (.. and .) that, respectively, describe the Alkmeonidai as inveterate “tyrant-haters” and as in exile “perpetually” from the beginning of the tyranny, that is, after Palle– ne– .This is obviously not Herodotos’ invention but Alkmeonid revisionism, hardened by time and iteration: in particular, they are lies fashioned from preference or need in light of the prevalent attitude of tyrant hatred at Athens and from distrust of the Alkmeonidai. Herodotos’ testimonia seems almost verbatim for what Alkibiades told the Spartans about his genos’ perpetual opposition to the tyrants in  B.C.E. (cf. n. ). Of course, it is fiction created to deny the Alkmeonidai’s apparently notorious factual collaboration with the Peisistratids. Cf. also Lavelle , –. The authority of the fifth-century Alkmeonidai can account both for Herodotos’ extraordinary preference for their information about the tyranny and for his disregard of other information.That authority was probably centered in the most powerful and persuasive Athenian of the day, Perikles, a direct descendant of the collaborator Megakles, and was not infrequently compared by such as the comic poets to Peisistratos (Plut. Per. .–; cf. Lavelle a, , nn. –).Who, after all, had more to gain from “spinning” the facts of his ancestor’s collaboration or to lose by refraining from at least partaking in the revisionism? Cf. Jacoby , ; and Lavelle , , n. ; and chapter I.. . Cf. Lavelle , –, n. ; Goušchin , –. See nn.  and  and section III..C.. . e[nqa dh; oJ Peisivstrato~ h\rce ÆAqhnaivwn, ou[te tima;~ ta;~ ejouvsa~ suntaravxa~ ou[te qevsmia metallavxa~, ejpi; te toi`si katestew`si e[neme th;n povlin kosmevwn kalw`~ te kai; eu\. Cf. Turner , –; Creuzer and Baehr , –; Stein , .; How and Wells , .; McNeal , ; Stahl , , n. , and ; and Barceló , , n.  (who detects a more subtle meaning). See also chapter I, n. ; and n. . . Cf. Ober , ; Lavelle , –; and Sancisi-Weerdenburg b, . Cf. chapter , n. , on the archon list. But cf. Barceló , , n. . . ..: ta; de; a[lla aujth; hJ povli~ toi`~ pri;n keimevnoi~ novmoi~ ejcrh`to, plh;n kaq Æ o{son aijeiv tina ejpemevlonto sfw`n aujtwn ejn tai`~ ajrcai`~ ei\nai. Cf. Dover , –. (timaiv [Hdt. ..: n. ] and ajrcaiv here must both mean “offices” [though cf. Dover , ]). See also chapter I, n. . . Cf. Cornelius , –; Stahl , –; de Libero , – and n. ; and Blok , . See also chapter I, n. . . There may well have been a religious sanction yet in force against such access: the memory of the crime was fresh after all in the early sixth century. See chapter II..A. and nn. –. . Cf. Cornelius , ff. (cf. Dover , ); Cawkwell , ; cf. also



      – 

Sancisi-Weerdenburg a, . Could the original arrangement between Megakles and Peisistratos have created the lasting Peisistratid modus operandi? Certainly, the fact would explain why the “existing laws” were not recalled as being upset during any phase of the tyranny. . Cf. Cornelius , ; and de Libero , –; cf. also Hurwit , –. . The akropolis was never secure as a citadel or even serviceable: cf. de Libero , –; Sancisi-Weerdenburg a, ; and Kinzl a, : “als Regierungszentrum is die Akropolis kaum geeignet.” Cf. also Hurwit , , although he imposes a quite modern sensibility on the frequency of visits to the akropolis: the Athenians probably did not view the “rock” as “steep” or its access as inconvenient. Cf. also n. . . Cf.Ath.Pol. . (cf.Rhodes ,).The author adds that Peisistratos “held the akropolis” (katevsce th;n ajkrovpolin), but this is of no value for the present question, since his use here can be figurative (i.e., the phrase can mean “was tyrant”) rather than have to be taken as literally (“was in residence on the akropolis”). . Cf. de Libero , –, who offers an overview of the evidence and consideration of the problem. . Cf.Andrewes a, ; Hurwit , ; and Boersma , –; cf. also n. . . Cf. Hurwit , ; de Libero , – and n. ; and n. . . Damnatio: cf. Thuc. ..; and Livy .. Cf. Lavelle ,  and –; Lavelle , , n. ; and Angiolillo , ; but also Sancisi-Weerdenburg b, – and n. . On the Persian sack, see Hdt. .–; cf. Hurwit , –. . Shear , ; Stahl , –; de Libero , – (who denies such use); Hurwit , – and , n. ; Boersma , –. Cf. Holloway  who challenges the view that Building F was in fact a dwelling; cf. also n. . . Cf. Berve , .. It is to be remembered that Athena Polias was the principal civic deity of Athens and that her well-being was synonymous with that of the akropolis, what Athenians anciently called the polis (Thuc. ..; cf. Gomme , ; Hornblower , –; cf. also Rhodes , –). Cf. also Loraux , ; and Scully , –. Cf. also n. . . On Kylon, see chapter II..A. and nn.  and ; on Kleomenes’ seizure (Hdt. ..– and II, nn.  and ; cf. also Lavelle , , n. ). It is true that Hippias managed to hold out against the Spartans for some time (Hdt. ..;cf.Hurwit , ), but he had prepared for siege by stocking supplies and apparently ensuring some sort of water source (cf. de Libero , –). Even at that, prospects were none too good for him and his philoi holding out for any length of time, since Hippias and those with him risked all, sending the younger Peisistratidai away (Hdt. ..). This is surely something that would not have happened if the Peisistratids were convinced of their strength and viability upon the akropolis.When the children were taken, Peisistratid resistance collapsed altogether. In fact, the akropolis was no redoubtable fortress at any time: Cf. Lavelle , – and n. ; de Libero , , n. ; Sancisi-Weerdenburg a, ; and nn.  and . Cf. also Kinzl a,  and –, n. . . Cf. de Libero , . One questions the identification of Building F (see n. ) as the tyrants’ abode: its recommendations are its size and its apparent unique-

Notes to Pages –



ness.While the building might have served a civic function it need not by any means have been the home of the Peisistratids. See Holloway  on “Peisistratos’ house.” . Cf. schol. ad Ar. Eq. b: Kylon is accused of hierosylia, a charge very probably added on (by the Alkmeonidai?) in view of his very unpopular seizure of the akropolis: cf. Lavelle , –. . Cf. nn.  and ; and de Libero , . . It could be argued that the actual occupation of the akropolis by Peisistratos was so painful to the Athenians that they did not want to recall it, hence their silence about it. However, the occupations by Kylon, Hippias, and Isagoras were recalled very plainly and in rather greater detail later; they were surely no more painful.Whatever Peisistratos did with regard to the akropolis it was not held to be criminal. . Hurwit , ; cf. also n. . . Cf. n. . Cf. also Creuzer and Baehr , ; How and Wells , .; Cornelius , ; Mossé , – (imitating perhaps those of the contemporary tyrant Kleisthenes of Sikyon?); Boardman , ff.; Rhodes , –; Frost , ; Stahl , ; McGlew , ; Dillon and Garland , ; cf. also de Libero , , n. ; and Gray . A note of correction: I do not argue “that the clubs (sc. of the korune– phoroi) symbolize (their) rustic weakness (my italics) and clear the de– mos of blame” (so Gray’s erroneous and quite misleading paraphrase of mine []  and n. ). Rather, as text, note, and reference make clear, the korune– phoroi comprise another element of apology, with club-bearers being substituted for spear-bearers apparently to try to mitigate the truth: cf. Lavelle , ff. (cf. chapter II, n. ; n. ); Ogden , , n. ; and Singor , –, who first strongly suspects and then accepts them. Cf. also nn. – and . . Cf.Turner , :“An instance of . . . uJpokorismo;~. Cf.Aristot. Rhet. iii. § .The changing of the term dorufovroi to korunhfovroi,the less suspicious name, deceived the Athenians.” Cf. also Stein , . (“eine echt naive Aushülfe, wie der Autor spöttisch zu verstehen giebt”) . Cf. Frost , –; Lavelle b, ; Sancisi-Weerdenburg a, ; and Singor , . . Singor b, , whose argument seems to provide its own counterargument to say that the doryphoroi are korune– phoroi and then doryphoroi is not only fanciful and unsupported but also contrary to what Herodotos actually says. . Cf.Thuc. .., ., .; cf. also Lavelle b, –, and , ff. . Political adjustment is made again for the first period of the tyranny, which seems to have evoked a particular response from the Athenians, if we may judge from Herodotos: cf. Lavelle , ; cf. section .A. (regarding Megakles). . Polyainos .. gives the number of bodyguards at three hundred (cf. schol. ad Plato, Rep. d; cf. also Nik. Dam. FrGrHist , F  [on Periandros]), Diogenes Laertios (I.) gives four hundred, and Plutarch (Sol. .) sets the number at fifty. These are all speculations, perhaps based on what the authors considered comparanda: cf. Lavelle b, , n. ; and Lavelle ,  and n. ; and n. . On the fiction of the “Aristion decree,” cf. n. . . We are put in mind of those that accompanied the kings of Sparta or performed in the honored (and elite) body of agathoergoi: cf. Hdt. . (cf. How and Wells , .) (but cf. also Hdt...; and .. [How and Wells , .], . [How and Wells , .], .. and ..). Cf. also Lavelle b, .



      – 

. Cf. Lavelle , . . Cf. de Libero , .There is every reason to think that included in these were the Philaids of eastern Attika, their later attempts to distance themselves from the Peisistratidai notwithstanding. Cf. Davies , –; and Dillon and Garland , –. . kai; ÆAqhnaivou~ eijkosthn movnon prassovmenoi tw`n gignomevnwn. Cf. Dover , –.The author of the Ath.Pol., however, makes Peisistratos’ assessment  percent (.): ejpravtteto gavr ajpo; tw`n gignomevnwn dekavthn. Cf. Rhodes , ; and Chambers , . On Peisistratid taxation, cf. Cornelius , –; Sterghiopoulos , ff.;Andrewes a, ; Sancisi-Weerdenburg , –; and de Libero , –. . Cf. Sancisi-Weerdenburg , . . Cf. Blok , :“It was his ability to maintain a state of eunomia (good order) that induced both fellow aristocrats and dependent population to accept his position as primus inter pares.” Blok, however, believes that Peisistratos’ use of military power to gain the upper hand over his rivals was what separated him out as a tyrant. There is no evidence for this in the early stages of his career, nor is there evidence for the maintenance of any substantial military force in the aftermath of Palle– ne– : cf. Lavelle b. Peisistratos “got the upper hand” over his rivals by learning how to manipulate the de– mos better than they did, not primarily because of sustained military power: cf. n.  and chapter V. . Cf. appendix C and n. . . It is generally inferred that Peisistratos was not run out of Attika after his expulsion from his first tyranny but instead returned to eastern Attika: cf. Hdt. .. (cf. also Berve , .;Andrewes a, ; Lavelle , , n. ; and de Libero ,  and n. ). It is to be admitted, however, that this is no more than inference and that we really do not know anything of his whereabouts during the first period of the exile. He could have been in Argos as well as in eastern Attika: cf. chapter IV, n.  and appendix C and nn.  and . . This further corroborates the belief that the men of the diakria were of no account in the arena of city politics: cf. Lavelle , –. . prh`gma eujhqevstaton, wJ~ ejgw; eujrivskw, makrw`/. (I shall not reproduce the entire, extensive passage in the Greek here but excerpt it only.) On the second tyranny and “Phye-as-Athena,” see Hdt. ..–. (How and Wells , .–); Ath.Pol. .–. (Rhodes , –; Chambers , ); Poly. ..;Val. Max. ... Cf. Beloch , ., ff.; Cornelius , ff., ff.; Schachermeyr b, –; Berve , .–; Bornitz , –; Andrewes a, ; Connor , –; Stahl , ff.; Sinos , –; Lavelle , –, Lavelle , ff.; de Libero  and Blok . (The thesis of de Libero, that Herodotos does not in effect describe a second tyranny for Peisistratos, a resurrection of Beloch’s idea [after Herschonsohn; cf. also Sancisi-Weerdenburg b, –], is constructed with disregard to explicit statements made by the historian, e.g., Megakles invited Peisistratos to marry his daughter but ejpi; turannivdi [..; cf., e.g.,Turner , ] and “Peisistratos held Athens for the third time and rooted the tyranny” [..].The disregard for what Herodotos says is not justified by de Libero in the article, and the thesis, as a result, remains unpersuasive. Cf. Pesely , –; and Lavelle , , n. .) Fornara and Samons (, ) comment that “the sudden turnabout by

Notes to Pages –



Megacles is surprising.”This is only true if Herodotos’ account is taken at face value and not contextualized. . Hdt. ..–.; cf. How and Wells , .–; Ogden ,  and , n. ; Hoben ; and Dräger , the latter two concerned with the sexual abuse aspects of the story. . See Kleidemos FrGrHist , F  (who calls Phye the daughter of Sokrates and says that she was given in marriage to Hipparchos); and schol. ad Ar. Eq.  (which calls her Myrrhine). Cf. Rhodes, , –; Lavelle , , n. ; and Bencsik ,  and nn. –. See also n. . . Cf. Lavelle , , n. ; and n. . . Connor , –; cf. also Tyrrell and Brown , –. . Sinos , . There are several weaknesses in Sinos’ exposition. () The epiphanies of divinities (–) and religious impersonations () are not of the same nature as the obviously staged impersonation of Athena for the ostensibly political benefit of another human. () We do not know with what piety or impiety the Athenians accepted what the pageant purported: they may have believed or they may have colluded in pretending to believe it. (The parallel of Greek Orthodox ceremony cited [ff.] does not explain the Athenians’ reception, since the occasion was not by any means religious in the same or even in a similar sense.) () Sinos’ pronouncement that Herodotos “leaves no doubt that the tyrant did not have divine sponsorship” is flatly contradicted by the prophecy of Amphilytos just before Palle– ne– (Hdt. ..; cf. Lavelle ): it is what the Athenians seemed to have believed and passed on to the historian. . Cf. chapter II..A.; and n. . . Blok , ff. . It is not clear at all that Herodotos did not understand the pageant (cf. How and Wells , .), but his disdain for the foolishness of the de– mos is clear. It was a subject apparently popular with his sources for the rise of Peisistratos, the Alkmeonidai: cf. Lavelle , , n. ; , n. ; , n. ; and ff. Cf. also n. . . Blok’s interpretation of the procession (, ff.), that it occurred after Palle– ne– , while creative, has no basis of support in Herodotos or anywhere else that I know of. . Herodotus’ use of mhcanw`ntai (..) indicates that both Peisistratos and Megakles had a hand in fashioning of the ruse.We observe, however, that it is Megakles who initiated the restoration. . Construing how the “chariot ride” was meant to be taken (cf. de Libero ) and how it was actually received (cf. Connor ; and Sinos ) accounts for most differences in interpretation: see nn. , , , and . . Sinos , –.We must also agree with Connor (, ), that Peisistratos did not have pretensions to divinity or superhumanity after the model of Herakles (obviously contra Boardman [, , ]: cf. chapter , n. ; and n. ): there are no contemporary parallels,and to have adopted such pretensions would have been politically imprudent because alienating. Aspirations to a Homeric heroic image are, however, quite admissible: Peisistratos seems to have wanted connections made between him and the Neleids and such an image was common for early tyrants. Aspirations to divinity (even to association with Herakles cf. de Libero , ) seem improbable for the elder tyrant. See nn.  and .



       –

. Connor , .The term parabaite–s is not used by Herodotos to describe Phye, whose role apparently was meant to be perceived as that of charioteer (Hdt. ..): she was “leading back” Peisistratos, not the reverse.While one might assume that Phye was asked merely to maintain the “impressive” pose that apparently she had been coached to strike, there is no real reason to think that the girl could not have been up to the full role of Athena in the Iliad, that is, as a real chariot (or “wagon”?) driver. Indeed, an Athena with a perceived Diomedes or Odysseus-like figure with her would presumably bear the greatest dividends for Peisistratos and Megakles. See also n. . . Il. .–; Cf. Kirk , –. . On the connection between Odysseus and Peisistratos, cf. Else (, ff.) who, I think, exceeds the dramatic possibilities of the scene; Connor , ; Lavelle , – and n. ; and Bencsik , . On the mythical ramifications of Odysseus and Athena, cf., for example, Detienne and Vernant , –. . Cf. Lavelle , . . Although the association of Peisistratos with Herakles (cf. Boardman , , ) has been quite popular (cf. Blok , –), it strikes me as extremely tenuous at best even on other grounds (cf. n.  and chapter I, n. ). The korune– phoroi, the literal interpretation of which is one of Boardman’s main props, cannot be taken as proof as such: cf. section .C. and n. . Herakles was a Dorian, not an Achaian hero, and had no real ties to Athens. Cf. Osborne –; cf. also Ferrari –; Cavalier –; and chapter , n. . . F , –: hJmetevrh de; povli~ kata; me;n Dio;~ ou[potÆ ojlei`tai ai\san kai; makavrwn qew`n frevna~ ajqanavtwn: toivh ga;r megavqumo~ ejpivskopo~ ojmbrimpavtrh Palla;~ ¾Aqhvnaivh cei`ra~ u{perqen e[cei: Cf. also n. . . Cf. Il. ., .– (where Zeus holds his hands over Troy and the Trojans). Cf. Campbell , –; Gerber , ; Anhalt , – (although Anhalt seems to me to miss the implication of what Solon actually says about Athena by comparing it too closely with the reference in the Iliad); cf. also Scully , ff. The former emphasize the several Homeric references of the lines in Scolon. . Cf. Odys. .– (cf. Scully , ); see also section .C.. . Cf. Lavelle . Of course, that sense, which was very possibly present in Athens in the mid–sixth century B.C.E., is featured and even exaggerated in the midfifth-century account of Peisistratos’ rise by Herodotos’ sources to attain their own purposes.The dissonance is quite apparent in Herodotos’ deployment of the “divine favor” motif and his ostensible failure to understand how it could fit in with such belief and political pageantry. Cf. n. . . Cf. Hdt. ..; and How and Wells , .. . One might argue that a statue of the goddess placed in the chariot—again, Phye was mute it seems—could possibly result in the same effect. But that would perhaps have been considered sacrilege, and in any case the live maiden made reference to the living qualities of Peisistratos. Cf. also n. . . Cf. Connor , :“No single ‘explanation,’ no minimalist aetiology, can

Notes to Pages –



catch the richness and multivalence of the event.”That may well be true: certainly the pompe– was meant to be perceived on more than one level simultaneously or at least consecutively. We must also not forget, however, that the pageant was formulated by its originators to “sell” Peisistratos to the Athenians once more: that is why Herodotos’ mentions it sequentially with the confederacy of Megakles and Peisistratos. It seems, after all, too easy simply to apply the catch-all of “multifunctionalism” to the Phye story, which term, while ineloquent in any case, ignores the primary aim of the exercise. Similarly, contra Sinos , , I do not think that Peisistratos or Megakles intended to create “ritual time and space” but to generate persuasive political thoughts that had religious and political overtones. . Cf. nn.  and –. . Cf. section .A.. . Cf., for example, Dillon and Garland , ; and Sancisi-Weerdenburg b, . . Cf. Sancisi-Weerdenburg b, –. Cf. Fornara and Samons (,  and n. ), whose explanations of and questions about Megakles’ initiative to forge the tie make it murkier than clearer. Pace Shear ; Berve , . (II.); Davies , ; and Rhodes , : Megakles’ daughter was surely not the famous Koisyra, who by all accounts was connected with Eretria: see chapter IV..A.; cf. Lavelle a; and Culasso Gastaldi . Cf. Raubitschek , ; Davies , ; Lavelle a, –; and chapter IV..A.. . Cf. Sancisi-Weerdenburg a, :“two tales that one can imagine to have survived easily in an oral context.” . Cf. the sensible note in How and Wells , .. . Cf. Hdt. ..; Arist. Pol. b, –; Athen. f., f., c–d; and Alkiphron .. Cf. also Lavelle , – and nn.  and . . Cf. Sancisi-Weerdenburg b, –. . Cf. Lavelle , ; and , ff. . Cf. Hdt. ..; cf. also Lavelle , ; and Lavelle b. . Cf.Hdt.. (cf.How and Wells ,.);Thuc... (cf.Lavelle , , n. ); cf. also Lavelle , ff., ff. . Isok. .; cf. Lavelle , , n. ;  and n.  (cf. also Lavelle a, ff.; and a, ). Cf. also Stahl , ; and de Libero , . . There was in fact no good reason for Herodotos’Alkmeonid sources to own up to involvement with the tyrant unless it was true, and Megakles’ position as de facto leader of the de– mos thus designates him a power broker. Further proof of this lies in the way Herodotos (or rather his source) treats Megakles in the account of Peisistratos’ rise: Megakles is more a tyrant fighter than he is a collaborator (Lavelle , )—exactly what the Alkmeonidai of the fifth century would need to establish among their very suspicious Athenian contemporaries. Cf. Lavelle , ff.; and nn. –. . Cf. Lavelle a, ff. . Cf. Hoben (); and Dräger (), who, among others, continue to debate the exact meaning of Herodotos’ phrase ouj kata; novmon while losing sight of the context of the phrase. . Cf. n. . . Cf. Lavelle , –, –.



       – 

. Isagoras’ wife: Hdt. ...The scurrilous (undoubtedly Alkmeonid) slander about Isagoras “lending” of his wife to Kleomenes is not repeated in the Ath.Pol. On the Isagoras incident, cf. Forsdyke , ff. . Plut. Kim. .–; Per. ; cf. also Plut. Kim. .. . Cf. Schachermeyr a, ;Andrewes a, ; and Rhodes, , . . Lavelle a, ff.; chapter IV.. . Hdt...:to;n de; deinovn ti e[sce ajtimavzesqai pro;~ Peisistravtou. ojrgh`/ de; wJ~ ei\ce katallavsseto th;n e[cqrhn toi`si stasiwvth/si. . Cf. Lavelle , – (on Megakles and the Alkmeonid antityrant apologies).

  . maqw;n de; oJ Peisivstrato~ ta; poieuvmena ejpÆ eJwutw/` ajpallavsseto ejk th`~ cwvrh~ to; paravpan, ajpikovmeno~ de; ej~ ÆErevtrian ejbouleuveto a{ma toi`si paisiv. ïIppivew de; gnwvmh/ nikhvsanto~ ajnakta`sqai ojpivsw th;n turannivda, ejnqau`ta h[geiron dwtivna~ ejk tw`n polivwn ai[tine~ sfi proaidevatov kouv ti. Cf. Stein , . proaidevato implies a sense of obligation for services rendered: cf. Turner , –; Creuzer and Baehr , ; Sayce , , n. ; How and Wells , .; McNeal , ; and section .A.. Cole (, ) says that there is “no indication that Peisistratus was forced from Athens in fear for his life.” But Herodotos states (..) that Megakles “took it badly that he had been stripped of honor by Peisistratos” and that, “because he was in a passion” (ojrgh/` de; wJ~ ei\ce), Megakles settled his differences with Lykourgos and so forced Peisistratos into exile (cf. chapter III, n. ). Herodotos emphasizes that Peisistratos quit Attika altogether, as if to underscore () that this was different from the first exile (sc. Peisistratos did not quit Attika altogether), and () Megakles’ wrathfulness. Perhaps these are all rationalizations or embellishments after the “fact” of the insult, but they give at least some grounds to dispute Cole’s statement, which is not based on the evidence available. . Cf. Lavelle ,  and n. .Who could have been privy to this “council’s” decisions but the Peisistratids or their closest philoi? But surely these were not Herodotos’ sources.The similarities of the campaigns of Peisistratos and Hippias to retake their tyrannies may have suggested such like-mindedness for return to Herodotos’ ultimate sources: cf. appendix C and n. . . Hdt. .. (see n. ); cf. Dusing , , n. ;Viviers , ; Lavelle a; de Libero , – and nn. –; cf. also Isaac , –. . Ath.Pol. .: kai; prw`ton me;n sunw/vkise peri; to;n Qermai`on kovlpon cwrivon o} kalei`tai ïRaivkhlo~, ejkei`qen de; parh`lqen eij~ tou;~ peri; Pavggaion tovpou~, o{qen crhmativsmeno~ kai; stratiwvta~ misqwsavmeno~ ejlqwvn eij~ ÆErevtrian ejndekavtw/ pavlin e[tei tov prw`ton ajnaswj/sasqai biva/ th;n ajrch;n ejpeceivrei ktl. The distinction of Edson (, –), and Viviers (, ), between oikein (Lykophron) and synoikein (Ath. Pol., –), is not valid: cf. Cole , , n. ; and appendix F. Viviers’ interpretations of pavlin as an interval of time (, , n. ), which apparently follows Rhodes (, ), and of the timetable of Peisistratos’ collection of monies, take no account of Herodotos’ chronology, which, while compressed,is reasonable enough:cf.Cole ,;Lavelle a,–,n.;and Lavelle b, , n. . Cf. also nn.  and .

Notes to Pages –



. Cf. also Hdt. .. (see n. ). Cf. Jacoby , ff.; Rhodes , ; Andrewes a, ; and Pesely . Cf. also Lavelle ,  and , n. ; and sections .B.–C. and .B.. Hammond (, , n. ), suggests that the ultimate source of Plutarch’s information about the founding of Methone– (Mor. b), an Eretrian colony in Macedonia on the Thermaic Gulf roughly opposite the promontory of Megalo Karabournou and Rhaike– los (see n. ), was “probably” Hekataios’ perivodo~ gh`~, although there are only oblique grounds for believing that (cf. Baba , –). There are even less substantial ones for trying to make Hekataios the source for information on the Peisistratid settlements in the north, for it seems quite unlikely that the source for the author of the Ath.Pol. on Rhaike– los (or, even more unlikely, the Pangaion settlement) was Hekataios rather than an Athenian Atthidographer. The linkage was with Peisistratos the Athenian after all, the “story” of Rhaike– los was incidental to that, and at least one Atthidographer includes information about cities in Thrace and Macedonia (i.e., Androtion FrHistGr  Frs , , , ; cf. Harding , –, –). Nor would the Atthidographer have had recourse to a Milesian author about essentially Athenian history. See also appendix F. . Cf. Cole ,  (and Viviers ,  [quoting Cole]), who terms the landing at Rhaike– los a “pre-planned enterprise.” On the fiction of Hippias’ advice to Peisistratos on Euboia, see appendix C and n. . . In his account of the final establishment of the tyranny, Herodotos (.. and . [cf.n.]) implies very strongly that the tyranny could only be rooted with much chre– mata and many allies. Cf. Lavelle , –; a, ; b, –; cf. also Viviers , ; cf. also appendix H. . Cf. Boardman , . . The Eretrian presence around the gulf was longstanding when Peisistratos arrived: cf. Hammond , ; and nn. –. . While it is possible that Peisistratos and his philoi were convicted of some crime and their properties officially forfeited in the wake of their expulsion from Attika, it is hard to imagine how the Athenians of the city could enforce confiscation of holdings (mostly?) in eastern Attika. Eastern Attika was beyond the pale of Athens: cf. chapter II, n. . . See chapter III..A.., n. . . Cf. Hammond (), who discusses the wealth of the Thermaic Gulf region; cf. also section .B.. On the Strymon-Pangaion, cf. also Lavelle a, –, for the Strymon-Pangaion area and section .C.. . Cf. Hdt. .., .;Thuc. ..; and Xen. Hell. ... . Cf. Mossé , . . See n. ; cf. Rhodes , ; Edson , –; Cole ; Dusing , .; Isaac , ;Viviers , esp. ; and Baba . Edson and Viviers dispute whether Peisistratos actually “founded” a settlement.At all events, accompanying settlers are usually indicated by the verb synoikisein: see nn.  and  and appendix F. Cf. also Casson , , , and . . On Methone– , see Casson ,  and n. ; Boardman , ; and Hammond , –. Cf. also Blackman –, ; and n. . . Mende– (cf. French –, ;Tomlinson –, ;Tomlinson –, ; and Blackman –, –) and Skione– (cf. Blackman –, ) were



       – 

founded on the western and southwestern coast of Palle– ne– (Thuc. .., ; Poly. .; and Pomp. Mela .; cf. Hammond , –) and Dikaia somewhere to the north of Potideia (cf.Viviers , ; ATL I, –; Pliny, NH ..; and Steph. Byz. s.v. Divkaia). Hammond (, –) located Dikaia at Lebet (Lembet?) about  km northwest of Thessalonike– ; he observes that finds there are as old as the ninth century B.C.E.This suggestion appears to have been disproven however (cf. appendix F, n. ). Cf. Boardman , ; and Baba , ff. Cf. also n.  and appendix F. . Cf.Viviers , ; and n. . . Cf. Andrewes a, . On Rhaike– los’ identification with and eclipse by Aineia after its founding, cf. appendix F. . Cf. Hammond , . . On such intervention, cf. Hdt. .., . (cf. How and Wells , .). Cf. also Mossé , ; and Borza , . . This seems true both for Sigeion (cf. Dusing ,  ff.; Figueira , –; and de Libero , –) and the Thracian Chersone– se (cf. Hammond ; Figueira , –; and de Libero , –). . Cf. Hammond and Griffith , ; Isaac , ; Baba , ; and Borza , . On the Greeks and control of Thracian mines near Mount Pangaion, see Lavelle a, ff.; and section .C. Cf. also Blackman – , on pottery imports to ancient Therme– near Rhaike– los. . Cf. Hdt. . (on the Satrai of Mount Pangaion); cf. also Lavelle a, –; and n. . . Cf. Cole , ; Baba , –; and de Libero , , n. , who discusses Peisistratos as oikiste– s of Rhaike– los and offers a further bibliography.Viviers (, ) argues that Peisistratos’ initial enterprise was primarily Eretrian, with Peisistratos “only a participant in a expedition organized by Eretria,” but he fails to take proper account of Peisistratos’ implied primacy in the foundation of Rhaike– los (Ath.Pol. .: sunw/vkise [n. ]; cf. Schachermeyr b, ; Figueira , , n. , and , n. ; and Cole ).Viviers also misidentifies the “Peisistratid” site of Rhaike– los as Dikaia: cf. Figueira , , n. ; and Hammond , –. Cf. also n.  and appendix F, n. . . Run out of Athens in – B.C.E. Hippias was offered Anthe– mous by Amyntas and Iolkos (near modern Volo) by the Thessalians (Hdt. ..; cf. How and Wells , .).This offer was probably made because of the reputation Peisistratos had established in the region of Macedonia and Thessaly (i.e., at Rhaike– los)—he obviously was successful there—and perhaps because of belief in the Peisistratid connection to the Neleids (cf. chapter II, n. ). Hippias declined the offer, deciding instead to fall back on Sigeion in the Troad, a Peisistratid holding (Hdt. ..), apparently with his own intention already fixed on returning to Athens. Cf. Borza , –; and de Libero , . . Baba ,ff.(based apparently on Despoine ?),–. Situation of Sindos: Hdt. ..; cf. Edson , ; cf. also Hammond , , n. . . Pace Hammond and Griffith , . . Baba , –. Cf. Blackman –, , on warrior graves dating to ca. the late sixth century B.C.E. in the area of ancient Therme– . . Cf. Lavelle a, ff.

Notes to Pages –



. The obvious parallel is Miltiades (IV), who, as dynast in Thrace, was accompanied by, among others, Metiochos, his elder son, apparently by an Athenian woman (Hdt. ..; cf. Davies , ), and others in his personal retinue (cf. n. ). Cf. also Rhodes , . Cf. Figueira , –.There is no reason to doubt that at least the eldest sons of Peisistratos accompanied him to Thrace or that Hipparchos and Hippias could have come of age during the Thracian sojourn.What is in great doubt, of course, is the story of Hippias’ advice to Peisistratos: see appendix C and n. . . Hdt. .–; cf. Berve , ff.; Bengston , ff.; and Hammond , ff. . Cf. Markel. Vita Thuc. ; cf. also Davies , ff.Although the specific ties of the Philaids would appear to have derived from their involvement as tyrants of the Thracian Chersone– se (Markel. Vita Thuc. –), their initial ties may have been forged much earlier. We observe that Thucydides, the son of Oloros and namesake of the Thracian king whose daughter Miltiades (IV) married, had holdings, obviously because of Thracian connections, at Skapte– Hyle– , in the shadow of Mount Pangaion (Thuc. . [Gomme , ]; Hornblower , –); Markel. Vita Thuc. ). Cf. nn.  and . . Cf. Baba (, ), who observes the “close bond” between the Peisistratids and Miltiades; cf. also Berve , ; Bengston , ; and Figueira , ff., who notes similarities between Sigeion and the Thracian settlements. The plan of Miltiades (IV), the son of Kimon koalemos, after Marathon was to conquer first Paros and then the area adjacent to Thasos on the mainland (cf. Lavelle b, , n. ). This may well have sprung from his ancestors’ association and familiarity with the Pangaion region: cf. Baba, who terms the Parian expedition “an inheritance of Peisistratos,” and that certainly seems right. (But cf. also Scott .) de Libero (,  and ) alludes to the exile of Kimon after Palle– ne– but admits (, n. ) that a definite date for Kimon’s “exile” (Hdt. .) is unrecorded. Cf. Cawkwell  for reasons why especially the younger Miltiades would have reason to concoct hostility between himself and the tyrants. . Cf. Hdt. .–; .; cf. Berve , ff.; Bengston , ff.; Hammond ; Figueira , ff.; and de Libero , ff. Cf. also n. . . Miltiades’ force in flight: Hdt. ... Miltiades’ armed retainers: Hdt. ... On the dating of the flight, cf. Kinzl , ff.The figure of fifteen hundred is based on figuring two hundred per trireme plus Miltiades’ military force: perhaps a smaller figure would actually be more in order. On the other hand, under the circumstances of flight, a somewhat inflated figure would not be out of line. Even by conservative calculation, each trireme would have to have been loaded with upward of three hundred souls, a very large number (cf.Thuc. ..; cf. Gomme , ), especially if the ships were also burdened with any goods (cf. Hdt. ..). However, desperation was an incentive and is always a parent of possibilities. . Figueira (, ff.) terms the Peisistratid colonies “patronal,” but the concept does not apply well to the nature of the colonies at Sigeion and on the Chersone– se. . Miltiades’ fighters were essential to the defense of the Chersone– se, particularly to man the wall across it from Kardia (Bakla Burun) to Paktye (Çimpe Kale) via polis Agoraios (Bolayir).There were surely other noncombatants in Miltiades’ party. For the Strymon enterprise, we should imagine a settlement of really only essential



       – 

personnel, viz., fighters, since these were needed to maintain it and exploit its potential. Of course, like the epikouroi who went out to Egypt in the previous century (cf. Hdt. ..ff.), these were probably, by turns and as circumstances dictated or permitted, warriors, farmers, and merchants. . Cf. Isaac , – and , on “Tokes,” apparently a Thracian, who fell fighting for “lovely Eion” ca. – B.C.E. (Cf. also Jeffery , ; and Plt. .) Cf. also Baba , ; and nn. –. . Cf. Lavelle a, , –. . Ath.Pol. .– (cf. n. ); cf. Rhodes , ff. . Cf. Dusing , ; and Baba , . . Cf. Dusing , –, n. ; and Lavelle a, –. . Cf. Dusing , –; Isaac , ; Lavelle a, ; and de Libero , , n. . Cf. also n. . . Hdt. ..; cf. How and Wells , –; and Lavelle a, ; see also nn.  and . Myrkinos must have been quite near Amphipolis (cf. Isaac , ), and How and Wells (, .) suggest that Myrkinos performed the same function as Amphipolis, but that is unlikely. Myrkinos (more likely modern Myrhinos, not modern Myrkinos) is up from the flat of the river and positioned so as to influence traffic moving around Pangaion: see Lavelle a, , n. . Cf., however, Isaac (, ) on “Hill ,” about  km northeast of Amphipolis, who suggests that the settlement here is Ennea Hodoi. In fact, Hill  is a very reasonable place for Myrkinos to have been located, a natural strong point and somewhat closer to the mines of Pangaion (cf. Isaac  on the material remains). Cf. also n. . . Cf. Balcer , , n. . . Cf. also , F .Although Strabo’s description applies to what he calls Dato– n, Borza (, ) has argued that Strabo is mistaken and that his words are more appropriate to the land just beyond Amphipolis on and around Lake Prasias. . Cf. Strabo  F . Cf. also Plut. Kim. .; Isaac , –; and Balcer , , n. . On the Strymon as Paionian land, cf. Hdt. ... Cf. also n. . On the topography of the lower Strymon region, see further Hammond . . Cf. Lavelle a, –. . Cf. ibid., ff. Herodotos calls the Satrai, who controlled the mines of Pangaion, subservient to no one for as long as anyone knew and “very acute in respect of war” (.).Their neighbors, the Edonoi, who dwelt between the Satrai and the Strymon, were hardly less so: they participated in the annihilation of ten thousand Athenians at Drabeskos in  B.C.E. (Hdt. . [How and Wells , .];Thuc. .. [cf. Hornblower , –]; see also n. ). It was they who were driven out of Ennea Hodoi by Hagnon and Athenians with him before the settlers founded Amphipolis: cf. nn.  and –. . Drabeskos:Thuc. .. (cf. Gomme , ; Hornblower , –; Isaac , –; cf. also n. ). Hagnon at Amphipolis:Thuc. .. (Hornblower ,–;Isaac ,–).The archaeological record of the area currently available suggests that,except for Argilos (Isaac ,–;Blackman –,;Blackman –, ; Blackman –, –), an Andrian (?) colony to the west of Amphipolis/Ennea Hodoi,Thasian/Parians were settled at Eion (see n. ) and possibly Ennea Hodoi by the end of the sixth century B.C.E. (see nn. , , and ). These settlements, which may have come about in the wake of a Thracian contrac-

Notes to Pages –



tion following the deportations of Megabazos (Hdt. .., ., .; cf. Hammond and Griffith , –) were inconsiderable and apparently did not last: cf. Isaac , –, . Cf. also Lavelle a, –; and nn. – and . . Isaac (, ) notes that the climate along the seacoast is more Mediterranean than central European and that crops more familiar to Greeks from the south could be grown easily there but not inland. But Herodotos (..) observes the fierceness of the Strymonic winds and, in spite of climatic difference of the coast, the habitat would not have been nearly as congenial as anywhere in Aegean Greece south of Thrace (cf. Aes. Agam. ; and How and Wells , .–). Cf. also Lavelle a, . . Cf. Hdt. .. (see n. ); cf. also Ath.Pol. . (see n. ). . Cf. Hornblower , . Androtion FrGrHist  F  also makes Ennea Hodoi the older name for Amphipolis, and the author of the Ath.Pol. certainly utilized the latter; cf. Harding , –. Cf. also Kallet-Marx , –. . On Aristagoras, cf. Hdt. .. (How and Wells , . [although they are surely wrong that the polis Aristagoras was trying to take was Ennea Hodoi]);Thuc. .. (cf. Hornblower , –); cf. also n. . On Amphipolis, cf. Lazaridis ; cf. also Isaac , –, –; and n. . . Cf. Isaac , ff., ff. . Eion should be located to the southeast of Amphipolis, where the low ridges of Pangaion push out toward the sea: a higher, more defensible spot with an adequate harbor is indicated.The akropolis of Eion has been tentatively identified  km east of the Amphipolis bridge on Prophitis Elias hill by Koukouli-Chrysanthaki (Catling –, ; Hornblower , ). It is to be observed that pottery on the hilltop is characterized as similar to “precolonial levels at Thasos” and that Greek pottery types begin with Late Corinthian and Attic of the late sixth century, according to the excavator.This should mean that Greeks were not present there until the dates corresponding to the appearance of that type of pottery.While this site does not seem completely apt for Eion—and the identification is not confirmed—it would substantiate the notion of the transitory nature of this and other settlements in the lower Strymon area until the latter part of the sixth century B.C.E.: cf. n. . (Certainly, the Peisistratids had to have beached and protected their ships somewhere along the coast and not at Amphipolis/Ennea Hodoi: see n. .) On Eion, cf. further Isaac , –; French –, ; and n. . . Thucydides (..) says that the Athenians under Hagnon started out from Eion for Ennea Hodoi, which Hagnon renamed Amphipolis. It was occupied then by Edonians. The Athenians kept Eion as their seaside emporion “at the mouth of the river.” Cf. nn.  and . . See Isaac ,  and , although that circumstance may be due to Eion’s eclipse by Amphipolis in the late fifth century. . That abandonment,not necessarily the fact that Eion was already a Parian foundation (pace Baba , –, ), could have created the opportunity for the Parians to move further into the lower Strymon region and become established there more permanently by ca.  B.C.E.: cf. Isaac , –, –; Baba , ; and n. . . Hdt. . (cf. How and Wells , .);Thuc. .. (cf. Gomme , ; and Hornblower , –; cf. also Smart ).The Byzantine fort would not seem to have been the site of ancient Eion (cf. Isaac , ): cf. n. .The course



       – 

of the Strymon seems to have changed over time (cf. Borza , –), and the river now empties into the sea in a place different from where it ran in the fifth century B.C.E. . Cf. nn.  and . Oisyme– (Thasian apparently: cf. Isaac , –, ; French –, ; French –, ; and Tomlinson –, ) and Galepsos (French –, ) are too far away from the Strymon to be counted as being “on” it, and the latter, which is closer to the river, seems in any case to have been a Thracian foundation perhaps later occupied by Thasians (cf. Isaac , , –). A further possibility is Myrkinos (cf. n. ), which may have been located on Hill  (see n. ): Myrkinos was Edonian before it was temporarily Greek (cf.Thuc. ..; and Hornblower , ), just as Ennea Hodoi was originally Edonian. Hill  (“Myrkinos”?) was in a forward and exposed position in hostile surroundings (see n. ). Farther from the river, communication with Eion would have been difficult to maintain. While these offer some possibility for being the Peisistratid site, Hill  does not present itself as as attractive a place as Ennea Hodoi/Amphipolis, the superlativeness of which site in the region is confirmed by simple autopsy. Its strategic location and logic suggest that the Peisistratid site was in fact where the later Athenian site of Amphipolis was founded. . Cf. Isaac , , on the strategic value of Eion to the Greeks: cf. n. . Isaac (–) undervalues the hostility of the Thracians and overvalues the “road network” he imagines was in the area: there were probably five main routes converging at Amphipolis. Ironically, Isaac also underestimates (after Casson) the Strymon as a route from the north. . ejcomevnh~ de; th`~ ÆAmfipovlew~ oiJ ÆAqhnai`oi ej~ mevga devo~ katevsthsan, a[llw~ te kai; o{ti hJ povli~ aujtoi`~ h\n wjfevlimo~ xuvlwn te nauphghsivmwn pomph/` kai; crhmavtwn prosovdw/. Cf. Gomme , ; and Hornblower , –. . Cf., for example, Andrewes , ; Andrewes a, –; Berve , . and ff.;Davies ,;Bury and Meiggs ,;Kraay ,;Bengston and Bloedow , ; Stahl , , n. ; and Shapiro . Cf. Lavelle a, , n.  for further references. . Isaac (, ) claims that Megabazos’ first priority was to secure the coastal route and not the natural resources of the region, but Megabazos’ awareness of the mines (Hdt. .) seems to suggest the opposite: cf. Balcer ; , . In any case, the Persians found the Satrai too hard to conquer (see n. ). It is difficult to imagine any credible source for Megabazos’ speech to Dareios and it is most likely that Herodotos’“numerous comments about Thracian and Skythian gold” (Balcer , ) reflect specifically Greek rather than Persian observations of and interests in Thrace.The historian’s comments probably also derived from the fifth century rather than the sixth. Cf. also Hammond . . Hdt. ..: peiqomevnwn de; tw`n ÆAqhnaivwn, ou{tw dh; Peisivstrato~ to; trivton scw;n ÆAqhvna~ ejrrivzwse th;n turannivda ejpikouvroisiv te polloi`si kai; crhmavtwn sunovdoisi, tw`n mevn aujtovqen, tw`n de; ajpov Strumovno~ potamou] suniovntwn, ktl. (“The Athenians obeying, Peisistratos thus held Athens for a third time and rooted his tyranny by means of many epikouroi and confluences of money, coming together partly from the place itself, partly from the river Strymon.”) . Cf. Lavelle a, , n. ; and n. . On the mines of Pangaion, cf. French –, .

Notes to Pages –



. Cf. n. . Misconstructions: cf., for example, Baba , ; and de Libero , , –; contra Singor , , whose understanding of Herodotos is as bewildering as his interpretation of the passage. (I omit discussion in detail of his misrepresentations here.) Indeed, Singor’s interpretation rests in large part on his failure explicitly to account for all of the words Herodotos’ uses at .., their precise meanings, their context, and so the sense and meaning of what is actually stated in the Greek.The key word ou{tw, which has no apparent place in Singor’s interpretation, must be included in the sense of the passage: it refers to what has gone before it (cf., e.g., Smyth , ), that is, to the Palle– ne– campaign and its victorious result. (Certainly,the context of the genitive absolute peiqomevnwn de; tw`n ÆAqhnaivwn,which begins the sentence, is the immediate aftermath of the battle.) The context for what Herodotos says here is what precedes the expressed thought, not what follows it or what might characterize the tyranny over time.And that makes great sense here, for in fact in his description of the Palle– ne– campaign and its result Herodotos repeatedly refers to Peisistratos’ buildup of allies and money. Money and men brought about Peisistratos’ victory; the victory rooted the tyranny. ou{tw and the thought it governs at .. thus summarize the campaign and specify what brought about the victory and so rooted the tyranny: that is made quite plain in Herodotos’ Greek by his explicit use of the aorist verb and the datives of means ejpikouvroisi and (crhmavtwn) sunovdoisi (cf. n. ).The participles, which follow this main thought about the tyranny’s rooting, do not govern it but rather are added on as further actions taken by Peisistratos in the immediate aftermath of the battle. (Surely, no one would argue that Peisistratos was constantly taking hostages or constantly purifying Delos? We observe that Herodotos does not use ou{tw to characterize Peisistratos’ rule thusly when he uses the imperfect ejturavnneue at ...) These aorist participles should be thought of (and so translated) as tantamount to main verbs—ejrrivzwse is that: cf., for example, the translation in Waterfield , . Singor’s interpretation, like so many before it, appears to be based on sheer desire to read into the Greek what he wants to read. Those arguing from Herodotos must use what the historian actually says as a basis for argument, not tendentiously edited, abridged, imagined, or otherwise distorted versions of his text. Cf. Lavelle a, –; and b, –. . Ath.Pol. . (see n. ); cf. Lavelle a, –. . Cf. Isaac , –; Borza , ; and nn. – and –. . Cf. Hdt. .–; and How and Wells , .. Cf. also Isaac , ; and Lavelle a, ff. . Cf. Dusing , .Thucydides (..) had the right of working the mines in the region, but this was surely specially obtained because of his descent from Thracian royalty (cf. Gomme , ; and Hornblower , ). In fact, his influence around Skapte– Hyle– , like his proprietorship of the mines there, must be attributed to his native connections (so contra de Libero , , n.  [cf. Lavelle b and n. ]). (The information of Markellinos [Vit.Thuc. –], that Thucydides was married to a very wealthy Thracian lady whose riches allowed him to compile the The History of the War between the Peloponnesians and the Athenians, is probably no more than inference but suggests that natives still had much to do with control of the mines around Pangaion through the fifth century B.C.E.) See Lavelle a, ff. . Hdt. .. (nn.  and ); How and Wells , .; McNeal , . . Hdt. ..; cf. How and Wells , .. Cf. also Borza , ff.



      –

. Kraay , ; cf.Wallace , ; Kraay , , n. ; Lavelle a, ff.; and Singor , . . Cf. Hdt. .. (cf. How and Wells , .); cf. also Lavelle a, –. . Hdt. .. (cf. How and Wells , .–). . The settlers, who moving into the interior met the Thracians at Drabeskos in  B.C.E. and were wiped out, were penetrating even farther into the hostile countryside when disaster occurred (cf. n. ).The main incentive had to have been the mines toward Dato– n, although there were other inducements: cf. nn. –. . Histiaios: Hdt. .–; cf. How and Wells , .–. Aristagoras: Hdt. ..; cf. How and Wells , . See also n. . . Contra Dusing , –.To my knowledge no trace of an archaic Athenian settlement in the lower Strymon region has yet been found, although there is a relative abundance of evidence for Greek settlement in the vicinity: cf. Isaac , ff. Cf. also Lavelle a, . . Surely Eretrians continued to play some part in Peisistratos’ affairs. Indeed, Peisistratos moved from the Strymon back to Eretria before moving on to Athens: cf. Ath.Pol. . (and n. ). . Whatever Histiaios intended, they were apparently the same aims as Aristagoras had when he fell heir to Myrkinos (cf. n. ). An aggressive, expansionist enterprise is implied with a view toward gaining revenues from the gold mines toward Dato– n-Philippi: cf. nn. –. Of course, the Milesians met with similarly fierce resistance: cf. n. . . Dusing (, ) alludes to this. Other Athenians who would consolidate or expand their positions in Thrace did so by intermarrying among the natives, including the Philaids (cf. Hdt. .., .; Plut. Kim. ; Markell. Vit.Thuc.  [Davies , ]; and nn. –) and apparently Iphikrates (cf. Dem. .; Nepos, .; Athen. ..a [but cf. Davies (, ), who doubts the marriage alliance]). . Ath.Pol. . (cf. Athen. .c; and Rhodes , ); cf. Kleidemos FrGrHist  F . In view of the obvious importance attached by Peisistratos to productive marriage alliances, such frivolous connections as the latter seem quite improbable. Cf. Davies , . . Contra Isaac , : cf. Lavelle a, ff. . Ath.Pol. .; cf. Rhodes , ; and Lavelle b, ff. . See n. . . Cf. Singor , . Contra Singor, the perception of foreignness of the Skythians/Thracians is exactly and graphically depicted in the vase paintings he cites. This distinction of “barbarian” was as old among the Greeks as the Iliad. More importantly for Athens, any coercive force, Greek or barbarian, would have been resented by the Athenians as just that. Some Thracians may have accompanied Peisistratos back to Athens, but these surely did not amount to a bodyguard: cf. section .B.. In fact, we have no evidence whatsoever for any bodyguard of foreigners. See chapter III..C.. . ejgkekoisurwmevnhn: perissw`~ kekosmhmevnhn . . . e[sti de; ÆEretriako;n o[noma. ou|toi de; eij~ trufh;n diabavllontai Suida sv. ejgkekoisurwmevnhn. au{th de; ejgamhJqh Peisistravtw/ ejpiceirhvsanti turannei`n. Cf. also S Nubes , S Nubes  (Tzetzes),S ad Nubes  (Tzetzes).Cf.Shear ;Davies ,–;Rhodes , ; cf. also n. . Cf. Lavelle a.

Notes to Pages –



. Cf. S Acharn. , S Nubes  (Tzetzes), S ad Nubes  (Tzetzes), S Nubes . Cf. also Lavelle a, , n. ; Brenne , ; Culasso Gastaldi , –. . Cf. Lavelle a, –. . Cf. Mattingly , ; Cromey , , n. ; and Brenne , –; cf. also Lavelle a, –; and Culasso Gastaldi , . Brenne (, ) notes that on the reverse of one of the Megakles-Koisyra ostraka a drawing of a “knight” appears. He speculates that this was a representation of Megakles (IV), the son of Koisyra, and suggests that it is “perhaps a reaction against the knights as a social class and political group, but mainly alluding to the high living Koisyra and the aristocratic connotations of the equestrian context.” Brenne is surely right about the allusion to Koisyra, but the knight seems better coupled with Eretria and the Eretrian hippeis (horsemen), something high in the minds of the Athenians when they thought of Koisyra (cf. Lewis ; Brenne , –; Raubitschek ; and Stanton ). (The same allusion is to be found on another ostraka cited by Brenne, which calls Megakles a hippotrophos, a “horse rearer.” Cf. appendices B and C.) . Although run out of Attika by Megakles, Peisistratos need not have been denied entirely access to the revenues of or even access to his eastern Attic property: cf. n. . . Cf. Lavelle a, , n.  (after Heinze). . Cf. ibid., . . Cf. nn. , , and . . Cf. n. . . Cf. Rhodes , –. . Hdt. ..: kai; ga;r tauvthn (sc. Navxon) Peisivstrato~ katestrevyato polevmw/ kai; ejpevtreye Lugdavmi ktl. On Peisistratos and Lygdamis, see Laidlaw ,–;Parke ;Rhodes ,–;and de Libero ,.On Lygdamis, cf. further n. . On hostages taken after the battle of Palle– ne– , cf. de Libero , –. . Cf. Ath.Pol. . (Rhodes , –). If the conquest of Naxos for Lygdamis occurred after Palle– ne– , Lygdamis contributed warriors to Peisistratos before he actually held it.That makes little sense.The testimony is, in any case, in conflict with Herodotos, whose sequencing is not problematic and whose expression is definite: cf. n. . It is reasonable to think that AP simply assumed that Peisistratos took the island for Lygdamis after the battle because Herodotos positioned the information as an afterthought to Palle– ne– (cf. n. ).We observe that AP does not mention hostages, however, thus omitting an important fact in his sequencing. Cf. de Libero , , , and , who places Peisistratos’ assistance of Lygdamis after Palle– ne– but does so without dealing with the textual, chronological, and practical problems associated with it. . proaidevato (Hdt. ..), which connotes a sense of obligation (cf. n. ), implies that Peisistratos rendered services for each of the poleis that had aided him at Palle– ne– .Those were returning favors. He had campaigned for Lygdamis and the Eretrians before Palle– ne– ; the Argives were tied to him through Gorgilos,Timonassa and the children from that marriage, but he could also have aided his Argive allies militarily. Something extraordinary is implied about the service he rendered the Thebans, since Herodotos remarks that they contributed the most money.There is no evidence to indicate what that would have been. See nn.  and .



     – 

. Cf.Berve ,.;cf.also de Libero ,.Cf.also Jeffery ,–. . AP (.; cf. n. ) implies that the Thebans contributed men, but Herodotos’language is more precise,and he states emphatically that the Thebans contributed the most money (cf. n. ). Perhaps Peisistratos refrained from using Thebans on Attic soil: cf. section .C.. . On Lygdamis, cf. Berve , .; and de Libero , –. . Cf. de Libero , . . Aristagoras and Artaphernes: Hdt. .–. (Aristagoras says that the Naxians possessed eight thousand hoplites and “many big ships” [Hdt. ..]; cf. How and Wells , ..) Persians and Naxos before Marathon: cf. Hdt. ..–; cf. How and Wells , .. Naxian revolt:Thuc. ..; cf. Gomme , –; and Hornblower , –. (This is not the place to wade into the controversy surrounding the chronology of the Naxian revolt of the early fifth century B.C.E.) . Naxos’ sizable fleet (cf. n. ) could possibly have acted to deter an attack of the Persians after their conquest of Lydia and Ionia across the Aegean. Cf. de Libero , . . Hdt. ..–: pollw`n de; megavla parascovntwn crhvmata Qhbai`oi uJperbavllonto th/` dovsi tw`n crhmavtwn. meta; de;, ouj pollw/` lovgw/ eijpei`n, crovno~ dievfu kai; pavnta sfi ejxhvrtuto ej~ th;n kavtodon. kai; ga;r ÆArgei`oi misqwtoi; ajpivkonto ejk Peloponnhvsou, kai; Navxiov~ sfi ajnh;r ajpigmevno~ ejqelonthv~, tw/` ou[noma h\n Luvgdami~,proqumivhn pleivsthn pareivceto,komivsa~ kai; crhvmata kai; a[ndra~....Hdt. ..: ejn de; touvtw/ tw/` cwvrw/ sfi stratopedeuomevnoisi oi{ te ejk tou` a[steo~ stasiw/tai ajpivkonto, a[lloi te ejk tw/n dhvmwn prosevrreon, toi`si hJ turanniv~ pro; ejleuqerivh~ h\n ajspastovteron. See also n. . Cf. Stein , ; cf. also Lavelle , ; b, ; and , . . Cf. Lavelle ; Lavelle b, –; and de Libero , . This overstatement was surely purposed to remove some of the blame from the Athenians at Palle– ne– by implying that Peisistratos had overwhelming force: see section .C.. . Ath.Pol. . (on contributing allies): sumproqumoumevnwn aujtw/` pollw`n me;n kai; a[llwn, mavlista de; Qhbaivwn kai; Lugdavmio~ tou` Naxivou, e[ti de; tw`n iJppevwn tw`n ejcovntwn ejn ÆEretriva/ th;n politeivan. Cf. Rhodes , . . Could this number be somehow based on the elite Argive thousand (Thuc. ..; cf. Dover , –)? . Cf. de Libero ,  and n.  (on the Argive mistho–toi [hirelings], cf. n. ). Plataia, a small city, sent one thousand hoplites to help the Athenians at Marathon (Nepos ; Just. .) and one thousand is the number of Thessalians arriving later with Kineas of Kondaion to support Hippias when he was under attack by Anchimolios’ Spartans (Hdt. ..). In view of their money-contributions, perhaps the Thebans contributed less warriors. Lygdamis, who was “especially avid,” however, contributed both men and money (..; cf. n. ). . Stanton , , adds Thessalians to the list of allies explicitly on the basis of Hdt. .., wherein Thessalians serve Hippias and, perhaps implicitly, on the basis of “Thessalos,”the name given to Peisistratos’third legitimate son (cf.Thuc...; cf. also How and Wells , .). It is not at all clear from Herodotos, who had reason enough to multiply Peisistratos’ allies, that there were Thessalians at Palle– ne– . In fact, his omission is conspicuous, since they did make an appearance later to fight for Hippias: see n. . . Contra Andrewes , –, ; and Bengston and Bloedow , .

Notes to Pages –



In fact, the Argive mistho– toi need not have been professionals: Herodotos appears to have been quite anti-Argive in the Histories, and it would not be surprising if his use of mistho–toi to describe the Argive contingent at Palle– ne– was yet another disparagement of them: cf. Lavelle c. . On the probable misinterpretation of Ath.Pol. . (see n. ), see section .C.. Cf. also Lavelle b, –. Cf. also nn. –. . Cf. Hdt. ...The testimony may be interpreted otherwise: () Peisistratos’ instructions to his sons may have been spawned from the extraordinary circumstances of the battle and do not imply the active presence of cavalry or (and this seems much likelier), () the detail of the command to his sons may have been added later and so have no basis in fact. (How could this command have been preserved and come down faithfully to Herodotos?) On the other hand, a landfall made at Marathon might have been dictated, as it apparently was in  B.C.E. when Hippias came there, by the desire to ensure good conditions for cavalry: cf. Evans , ; Lavelle , , n. ; and nn.  and . . Cf. Lavelle b, ff. . Cf. ibid., . On Thracian fighters, cf.Vos , ff.; Best , ff.; and Singor , . . Cf. n. . On Greek fear of Persians and their garb cf. Hdt. ... . Nepos l.  (= Ephoros? cf. How and Wells , ., but then why the disagreement with Justin?); cf. Paus. ...The figures for the Athenians seem reasonable enough; those for the Persian forces do not. . Herodotos’ point in the logos seems to be to show how the collection of money before the battle produced its results: defeat at Palle– ne– allowed the tyranny to be reestablished, but money rooted it: cf. Lavelle b, –. Cf. also n. . . Herodotos may not have known, but he would not likely say or even allude to the fact that the Athenians were amenable to the tyranny because Peisistratos gave them money. . Cf. nn. , , , and . . We are minded of the threefold strategy espoused by Perikles to win the Peloponnesian war (cf.Thuc. ..; cf. also Gomme , –. . ejx ÆEretrivh~ de; oJrmhqevnte~ dia; eJndekavtou e[teo~ ajpivkonto ojpivsw. kai; prw`ton th`~ ÆAttikh`~ i[scousi Maraqw`na....ou|toi me;n dh; sunhlivzonto: ÆAqhnaivwn de; oiJ ejk tou` a[steo~, e{w~ mevn Peisivstrato~ ta; crhvmata h[geire, kai; metau`ti~ wJ~ e[sce Maraqw`na, lovgon oujdevna ei\con, ejpeivte de; ejpuvqonto ejk tou` Maraqw`no~ aujton poreuvesqai ejpi; to; a[stu, ou{tw dh; bohqevousi ejp Æaujtovn. kai; ou|toiv te panstratih/` h[isan ejpi; tou;~ katiovnta~ kai; oiJ ajmfi; Peisivstraton, wJ~ oJrmhqevnte~ ejk Maraqw`no~ h[isan ejpi; to; a[stu, ej~ twjuto suniovnte~ ajpiknevontai ejpi; Pallhnivdo~ ÆAqhnaivh~ iro;n kai; ajntiva e[qento ta; o{pla. Androtion FrGrHist  F  (= schol. R[V] Aristoph. Ach. ) (cf. also Harding , –); Polyain. .; cf. also Andok. De Myst.  (see n. ). Cf. McNeal , , for the grammatical problems of this passage. Cf. also Fornara and Samons , ; and nn.  and . . On the position of the Palle– ne– ion at Stavro (Cross[roads?]), see Blackman –, ; cf.Traill , .The temple, the remains of which indicate that the earlier temple was rebuilt apparently by mid–fifth century B.C.E., is located at the junction of Odos Androutsou and Zalongou. Cf. How and Wells  ., for the strategic position of the deme. . Cf. n. .



       – 

. Delay at Palle– ne– is signaled by the laxity of the “men of the city” and perhaps by Androtion’s use (FrGrHist  F ) of the word “war” (polemos) instead of “fight” (mache–) in his description of what transpired there. Cf. Harding , –. . Cf. Lewis , –; and Traill , ; see also n. . . Herodotos says (..) that when the opponents arrived at the temple ajntiva e[qento ta; o{pla.This says nothing about the type of position taken (cf. McNeal , , on the problems with the sentence), although specific mention of the temple suggests that it might have played some part in the battle.The Athenians were surely barring the road, for obviously they needed to keep Peisistratos from the city. Reason supports the belief that the Athenians deployed in the best defensive position they could manage and that they, rather than Peisistratos and his army, anchored their defense around the temple and perhaps the temenos wall. . ..: ÆAqhnai`oi de; oiJ ejk tou` a[steo~ pro;~ a[riston tetrammevnoi h\san dh; thnikau`ta kai; meta; to; a[riston metexevteroi aujtw`n oiJ me;n pro;~ kuvbou~, oiJ de; pro;~ u{pnon. oiJ de; ajmfi; Peisivstraton ejspesovnte~ tou;~ ÆAqhnaivou~ trevpousi. Cf. How and Wells , .. . Such a tactic is hardly unknown in Greek warfare: cf. Xen. Hell. ... . Cf. Lavelle , –; , –. . Cf. Lavelle , esp. –. . This accounts for the main point of difference between Lavelle  and Gray  in interpreting the Herodotos’ digression on Peisistratos’ rise entire: cf. appendix C, n. . . oij ga;r patevre~ oiJ uJmevteroi genomevnwn th/` povlei kakw`n megavlwn, o{te oiJ tuvrannoi me;n ei\con th;n povlin, oJ de; dh`mo~ e[feuge, nikhvsante~ macovmenoi tou;~ turavnnou~ ejpi; Pallhnivw/, strathgou`nto~ Lewgovrou tou` propavpou tou` ejmou` kai; Carivou, ou| ejkei`no~ th;n qugatevra ei\cen, ejx h|~ oJ hJmevtero~ h\n pavppo~, katelqovnte~ eij~ th;n patrivda tou;~ me;n ajpevkteinan, tw`n de; fugh;n katevgnwsan, tou;~ de; mevnein ejn th/` povlei ejavsante~ hjtivmwsan. Cf. MacDowell , ; Davies , –; and Rhodes , –. . MacDowell (,–) makes a valiant attempt,as does Raubitschek (, –) to salvage the passage: both want to make the battle described by Andokides a different and later one from that which occurred in 546 B.C.E. Neither argument, however, is convincing because there is no record anywhere for such later battles. . Cf. MacDowell , . Cf. also the elaborate reasoning of Davies , –, which does nothing to clarify the garble. . In fact, Herodotos’ labeling of the defectors as “those who preferred tyranny to freedom” (..; cf. n. ) is surely an allusion to (at least some of) the de– mos, members of which would be the likeliest defectors to Peisistratos in any case. Cf. MacDowell  . On the official polarity of de– mos and tyranny, cf. Lavelle , ff.; Raaflaub . . Cf. Lavelle , , n. . Except for his reference to the tyrant’s possession of the city,Andokides seems to give the outcome of the battle, at least partially, from the perspective of the Peisistratids. Could his ancestors have actually fought for the tyrants at Palle– ne– ? See n. . . Cf. MacDowell , . . Cf. Andok. .: the same Leogoras who opposes the tyrant at Palle– ne– had

Notes to Pages –



the opportunity to marry into the tyrant’s family but preferred exile with the Alkmeonidai instead. Cf. also nn.  and . . Cf. de Libero , . . Cf. Lavelle , ff. . Cf. Lavelle a, . . The story involving Amphilytos’ oracle, which was undoubtedly invented after the battle, emphasizes that the rout was fact and that it was so well known and painful that such an explanation was generated to account for it. The ignominy of the crushing defeat is deflected, however, by having the Athenians unfairly beaten, which is to say, not beaten at all in both Herodotos’ and Andokides’ accounts. Cf. Lavelle . Cf. also n. . . Could the falsity of the Alkmeonids’ “perpetual exile” have been spawned because of actual Alkmeonid treachery at Palle– ne– , as that of Andokides’ ancestors, closely associated with the Alkmeonidai (cf. n. ), spawned Andokides’ twisted account of the events around the battle? Cf. MacDowell ,  ff., on the association of the family of Andokides with the Alkmeonidai. . The information in Herodotos (..) that Peisistratos sent his sons ahead on horseback to bid the Athenians go home seems to be an explanation for Palle– ne– ’s aftermath: it demonstrates for the Athenians of the fifth century why their ancestors did not rally to prevent the final tyranny of Peisistratos. cf. Lavelle , , n. ; and n. . . See section .C.. . Cf. Ath.Pol. ., .Although I take by far the most of chapter  to be fabricated well after the tyranny (cf. Lavelle , –), the underlying sense of it (benevolence, etc.) suggests, at the very least, that there was little or no testimony to contradict it. Indeed, the Peisistratan period could not have been called the “golden age” had there been records of vengeance, reprisals, and so on. In fact, such a memory might be taken to be yet another reason to distrust the testimony of Herodotos about exiles and hostages. . Cf. Lavelle b, ff. . Contra Bengston and Bloedow , , there is no evidence that Peisistratos entered the city “[a]midst the jubilation of the Athenian population.”This appears either to be based on a projection grounded in Herodotos’ testimony about Peisistratos’ second return or to be sheer fancy. . Cf. Fornara and Samons , ff.; and de Libero , .The period of exile for the Alkmeonidai, the worst “offenders” against tyranny, according to Herodotos, was not as long as twenty years, if indeed they were exiled at all. . Chapter I, n. . . Davies ,  (after Raubitschek , ). If this is true, then the naming was by Megakles and probably occurred during the second tyranny of Peisistratos in the mid-s.The gesture was in perfect keeping with Megakles’ desire to pull the two gene– together: cf. chapter III..A. and C. . Cf. Lavelle a, –. (My reference to Kleisthenes as both “uncle” and “brother” of Hippokrates is an error.) . The reverse is indicated by the generally good “press” accorded Peisistratos, which would not have been good had he created numbers of exiles and hostages: cf. Lavelle , ff.



       –

. Contra de Libero , –, there is no solid evidence for confiscation of property by Peisistratos after Palle– ne– . . Fornara and Samons (, ) state suppositionally, but without any support, that the Alkmeonidai remained in Athens after Palle– ne– .They do this to account for the period of probation they rightfully think must have occurred before Kleisthenes’ archonship (see n. ).The Alkmeonidai could certainly have gone and come back: the Peisistratidai did that after all. . Cf. Lavelle a, . . Cf. chapter I, n. . . This will be more fully examined in a volume currently being prepared on the tyranny of the younger Peisistratids.

  . Cf. Lavelle b, –. . Cf. Hdt. ..; cf. also How and Wells , .; and Lavelle c, –. Cf. also chapter I, nn.  and ; and chapter IV, nn. –. . Cf. Hdt. .–; cf. also How and Wells , .–. . Cf. Lavelle c, –; and a, , n. ; cf. also Scott . . Cf. Lavelle c, –. Scott (), whose methodology and conclusions I find faulty since he significantly fails to treat the Thasian possibility.Cf.also Link ; and Papalas . . Cf. Diod. Sik. ..–; and Plut. Kim. .– and .–; cf. also Thuc. ..; and Nepos, .–; on the taking of Eion, cf. also Smart . Of course, Eion appears to have been a linchpin in the Peisistratid operation in the Strymon region: see chapter IV..C. and nn. –. Some of what Plutarch writes about Kimon and earlyfifth-century Athenians seems to have come down to him from some fairly good sources, for example, Atthidographers, but also from some fairly dicey ones such as Stesimbrotos of Thasos and Ion of Chios.There is of course further contamination from authors, ranging from good to the wholly unauthoritative such as Douris of Samos. . Cf. Plut. Kim. .. But cf. Meiggs , –. . Cf. ibid., . . Cf. Thuc. ..–. (cf. Gomme , –; and Hornblower , –; and Plut. Kim. . . Plut. Kim. .–. . Cf. ibid., .–. . Aesch. .–; Plut. Kim. .–.; cf. Boedeker , –; and Hölscher , –. It is interesting to note that these inscriptions were to be placed on herms.The most famous herms set up by a political man before the Eion ones were those of Hipparchos, the son of Peisistratos, set up throughout Attika and advertising himself and his wisdom ([Plato] Hipp. c–b).The association of these with the tyrants might very well have cautioned the Athenians about Kimon, who was himself the son of a tyrant. On Hipparchos’ herms (and others), see Lavelle ; Osborne ; Parker , –; and de Libero , –. . Plut. Kim. ; cf.Walker b, –. (I do not think that Walker is right to think that Kimon did not attempt to manipulate the political potentials of Theseus

Notes to Pages –

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for his own profit. Surely no one would believe that Kimon did other than invent the discovery of the “bones” of the hero.) . Plut. Kim. .; cf. Lynch, ; de Libero , , n. . . Plut. Them. .–; cf. de Libero , . . Ibid., .; cf. also .. . Ibid., .. . Ibid., .. . Hdt. .–. It appears that the event that overtook Themistokles so shortly after his military triumph (cf.Thuc. .–) attenuated his career. Hence, other than some “shakedown” sorties after Salamis (cf. Hdt. .–), we have no record of his further attempts to enrich the Athenians. (How and Wells [, .] suggest that the extorted money was used by Themistokles to pay ships’ crews, and that is not unlikely: see n. . Themistokles knew how to spread money around to best effect.) . “New Peisistratos”: Plut. Per. . (I omit the shadowy radical Ephialtes, who might well have been among the first to break ranks with these “conventional” politicians to establish the new style of politician eventuating in the likes of Kleon.) Cf. also Moles , –. . Cf. Merritt,Wade-Gery, and McGregor , .ff.; Meiggs , –; and McGregor , ff., –, . . Plut. Per. . . Ibid. ; cf. Figueira , –. . Plut. Per. . . The daughter of Hippokrates and Koisyra (II), the mother of Megakles (IV), and ostracisé of – was Agariste, the mother of Perikles.This Koisyra (II) is likely to have been the daughter by the Eretrian Koisyra (I) of Peisistratos (cf. IV..A.; and Lavelle a, ).That would of course make Perikles the great-grandson of the tyrant, which is certainly within the realm of possibility. See appendix C. . Cf. Lavelle , , n. . . Cf. Plut. Them. .

  . I owe much to Ms. Margaret Beck, who, without any hesitation, allowed me to study her impressive work on the Brauron region and unsparingly shared her scholarship and expertise of the area with me. I hope that her work will yet find publication inasmuch as it is yet the only thorough study of the area and masterful. I am also deeply grateful for the kind help rendered and advice given by Dr.John M.Camp and Dr. Steven Diamant. . Cf. Beck , . . . . . kai; katwv/khsan oJ me;n (sc. Philaios) ejn Braurw`ni th`~ ¾Attikh`~, oJ (sc. Eurysakes) dÆ ejn Melivth. kai; dh`mon ejpwvnumon Filaivou to;n Filai>dw`n e[cousin, o{qen h\n Peisivstrato~. Cf. also [Plato] Hipp. b: Peisistravtou . . . tou` ejk Filai>dw`n.” (The Hipparchos, though not authored by Plato, was apparently composed in the fourth century B.C.E.: see Friedländer , –.) The agreement of these suggests a single source that united Peisistratos with Philaïdai no later than the fourth century B.C.E. Cf. also Parker , –.

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      

. Kolainivda ejponomavzousi (sc. Myrrhinousioi) th;n ÒArtemin, w{sper Peiraiei`~ th;n Mounucivan, Filai>dai de; Braurwnivan. Suidas. s.v. a[rkto~ h] braurwnivoi~; Steph. Byz. s.v. Filai?dai. See Loeper , , n. ; and Giuman , –. I assume that the information of the scholion derives either from inextant passages of Attic comedy (cf. Lavelle a) or perhaps from an Atthis.Wherever the information derives, it probably dates from before the inundation of the sanctuary in the late fourth or more likely the early third century B.C.E. (cf. Papadimitriou , ;Vanderpool ; Coulton , ; Beck , ; and Giuman , –). . Cf. Lewis , : “It is at Brauron itself that we can safely place their [i.e., the hyperakrioi/diakriois’] leader Peisistratus”; and Rhodes ,  (although somewhat misleading):“The family home [sc. of the Peisistratidai] was in the region on the east coast known as braurwvn, later given the deme-name Filai?dai.” Cf. also Whitehead , , n. , and , n. . Separateness: cf. Papadimitriou ,  (photograph of a decree found at Brauron proposed by an inhabitant of Philaïdai); cf. also Themelis ;Antoniou , ff. . Kevkropa prw`ton eij~ dwvdeka povlei~ sunoikivsai to; plh`qo~, w|n ojnovmata Kekropiva, Tetravpoli~, 〈Tetravkwmoi〉, ÆEpakriva, Dekevleia, ÆEleusi~, ÆAfidna, . . . qorikov~, Braurwvn, Kuvqhro~, Sfhttov~, Khfisiav. . Cf. Jacoby a, –, who concludes () that the “list (which may have had more variants than we know of) is built upon the number twelve; Ph. (or whoever preceded him) selected twelve names from a great number of well-known Attic places (there really were more than twelve) which for reasons no longer recognizable he considered to be the oldest and which in his opinion must have made up the territory of ancient Attica, whether or not he dealt in detail with their extent and boundaries. . . . [W]e can venture the inference that he did not know anything about phylai and trittyes of Kekrops.” In other words, Philochoros (or his source) invented the Dodekapoleis. It is easy to see, on Jacoby’s criteria, why Brauron with its ancient cult of Artemis, would have been included and the authority of Philochoros would not have been questioned by later writers, who had to follow an Atthis for local Athenian history (see nn. –). On Brauron and the Brauronia, cf. Loeper , ff.; Papadimitriou ; Coulton ; Kahil ; Beck , –;Antoniou , –; Sourvinou-Inwood ; and Giuman , –. See also nn. –. . Str. .. (). kavmyanti de; th;n kata; to; Souvnion a[kran ajxiovlogo~ dh`mo~ Souvnion, ei\ta Qovriko~, ei\ta Potamo;~ dh`mo~ ou{tw kalouvmeno~, ejx ou| oiJ a[ndre~ Potavmioi, ei\ta Prasia;, Steiria;, Braurwvn, o{pou to; th`~ Braurwniva~ ÆArtevmido~ iJerovn, ktl. Paus. ..: kai; Æ Artevmido~ iJerovn ejsti Braurwniva~, Praxitevlou~ me;n tevcnh to; a[galma, th` qew`/ de; ejstin ajpo; Braurw`no~ dhvmou to; o[noma· . Plin. Nat. Hist. .: Sunium promunturium . . . “Potamos, Steiria, Brauron, quondam oppida”; Pomp. Mel. De chor. .:“Rhamnis parva, inlustris tamen, quod ea in fanum est Amphiara et Phidiaca Nemesis;Thoricus et Brauronia olim urbes iam tantum nomines. Sunium promunturium est”; cf. also schol. ad Ar. Pacem : ejn Braurw`ni de; dhvmw/ th`~ ÆAttikh`~, pollai; povrnai. (This last, which describes Brauron as full of pornai, is perhaps derived from Attic comedy, not an Atthis, but is of no historical value in any case: it seems to have conflated the “Lemnian deeds” [Hdt. .] with Dionysiac carousing. Cf.Toeppfer , ; and Lloyd-Jones , , n. .) Pliny’s reference appears to be drawn either from Strabo or Strabo’s source; Pomponius Mela’s seems to have been drawn from the same: cf. n. .

Notes to Pages –



. So Whitehead , , n. , and , n. .The “akropolis” of Brauron, the hillock beneath which lay the temple of Artemis (fig. )—and now lies the little church of Ayios Yioryios—was occupied in the Late Bronze Age (chapter II..B), and memory of that occupation, along with its ancient Artemis worship, may account for its inclusion among Philochoros’ Do– dekapoleis (cf. Hiller ): cf. nn. –. See Giuman ,  and –, for a plan and illustrations of the precinct of Artemis. . Whitehead , , n. , apparently after Lewis , – (cf. n. ): cf. Taylor ,  and n. , and . . Cf. Lewis , :“Instead the deme is called Philaidai, an annoyance to the Philaids in itself and perhaps an attempt to foster such cult of Philaios as there was away from the Philaid centre at Lakiadai.” . On the introduction of Brauronian Artemis to Athens (cf. Paus. ..), cf. Kahil ; , –; cf. Angiolillo , –; Shapiro , – and n. ; Frost , ;Antoniou , –; Giuman , –; and Hurwit , –. Edmonson () dated establishment of the cult on the akropolis to the fourth century B.C.E. when the sanctuary at Brauron was inundated, but his dating was made before Kahil’s analysis of the akropolis krateriskoi (little kraters) and without the Photios reference (Angiolillo , –). It is in fact most likely that the Peisistratidai transferred the cult to Athens: cf. Parker , , n. . Cf. also Traill ,  and n. ; cf. also n. . . On the cult of Brauronian Artemis,see also Rhodes and Dobbins ;LloydJones , –; Simon , ;Antoniou ; and Giuman . Cf. also nn.  and ; and Peppas-Delmousou (,  and n. ), whose conclusions about the nature of the pompe– as a sort of proto-Delian theo–ria (mission) are not convincing, however (see appendix B, n. ). . The confusion that Whitehead (, ) imputes to deme registration affecting Brauron and Philaïdai after the Kleisthenic arrangement is unnecessary: cf. Thompson , :“each man was to register in his home village.” . Whitehead (, , n. , and , n. ) does not explain by what means or based on what authority he says that “some writers found it natural to describe Peisistratos’ home as Brauron” (my italics), although Philaïdai “obliterated Brauron from the map.” . Cf. Lavelle a, –; b, –; and , – and n. . Berthold () offers views on the embassies of Kleisthenes. . Peisistratos garnered support in the diakria on his final campaign see chapter IV..C.. His way was open to Palle– ne– and then to Athens, and he must have felt confident that the diakria on his flank was at least secure (Hdt. ..). Herodotos mentions no defectors to Hippias at Marathon, and certainly no diakriot force came up to help him against the Athenians. In fact, the region was never redoubtable for the Peisistratids and was never theirs to control politically. Cf. Lavelle , , n. . . Cf.Andrewes ; Manville , –, n. ; and Stockton , –. . See Lloyd-Jones , , n. ; and n. . . See n. . . Lemnian deeds: Hdt. ..; How and Wells , .–. Cf. Peppas-Delmousou , .Thucydides (.) says that before Minos cities were built at some distance from the sea for fear of piratical descents, something with which Brauron was apparently especially associated in Bronze Age myth: cf. appendix B n. .Thucy-



      – 

dides also notes the prevalence of piracy down to his own time in more backward areas of Greece such as Lokris.The defenses of Xeropolis appear to have been built with an eye to possible seaward attack, which did in fact materialize (cf. Popham and Sackett ,  and –). See also appendix B and n. . . Cf.Antoniou , . . Cf. chapter II..B. and nn.  and . . Frazer , ; cf. Antoniou , –: Brauron as a name for the region has been retained in a derivative form (Vraona) to the present. . It is possible that the information derived from the rescripted ste– le– adikias of the tyrants set up early in the fifth century B.C.E., which condemned the family of Peisistratos in extenso: cf.Thuc. ..; Lavelle c, –; Lavelle b, –; Stanton , , n. ; Dillon and Garland , –; and Arnush , –. It was prominently displayed on the Athenian akropolis and reasonably would have designated the deme of the famous offenders whose crime and punishment it described. See also appendix C, nn.  and . . Leake , ; Frazer ,  (cf. also Loeper , –). . Thompson (), who visited Leake’s site in , found sherds datable to the Hellenistic period.After several visits to the same site in , I found none at all. . Vanderpool ,;Traill ,.Traill (,,n.) changed his mind about his earlier designation of the deme site, favoring one “across the road from the early Christian basilica,” apparently Beck’s site (see Beck , ). Beck, however, places the deme site  m west of the basilica (), while Traill  places it  m west (): cf. n. . . Thompson , –.The similarity of names caused Frazer mistakenly to place Brauron inland and Philaïdai on the sea. . I found only a very few sherds of ribbed, unglazed pottery in the area of the basilica. . Beck , . Beck () notes a “very dense concentration of Classical black glaze” on the site she calls Kipi (khpoi; see map ) and, because it is within  m of the proposed deme site for Philaïdai, she suggests that it may be “an extension of the deme-site” (sc. of Philaïdai)]. In fact, her proposed site and Kipi are probably outlying parts of the main site, and she is likely right to term Kipi “a cemetery . . . located close to, but separate from the actual deme-site” (). See n.  and map . . Beck , . See also Themelis ,  (map); and Antoniou , –. . Beck , . . See nn.  and . . Beck (, ff.) notes habitation of the area from prehistoric times (a large quantity of obsidian) through the Classical period (black glazed ware). . Except for the Erasinos, which seems brackish in springtime, and the Artemis spring, there appeared to be no abundant water supply in proximity to the site. However, Beck (ibid., ) observed spring houses and wells “scattered throughout the fields,” and I noted what seemed to be well heads nearer the site (see nn.  and ). . I do not dispute that some settlers may have returned sometime after the sanctuary was abandoned (cf. ibid.,  and ; and Antoniou , ff.). However, later writers attest to a conspicuous lack of population of Brauron, which may be grounded ultimately in the testimony of Philochoros: see n. . Members of the “deme Philaïdai” continue to live in the region and identify with it: cf.Antoniou .

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. It is tempting to think of this piece as a base for one of the renowned herms of Hipparchos ([Plat]. Hipp. c–b; Lavelle , ff.): cf. Pan-Painter’s depiction of a rural herm standing upon what seems to be a rough rock (Beazley , ff. and pls. ., .; illus. ).The base of the herm is for the most part super terram. It must be said, however, that the piece may be no base at all but another kind of footing. It could have been used for a ste– le– , perhaps on the order of the Aristion ste– le– ( Jeffery ,  [nos.  and ]). Cf. Themelis  on the third-century grave marker of Diognetos, found ca. , m. west of the sanctuary of Artemis. (Themelis notes that the marker lacks provenance.) . On a visit to the site in , then much encroached upon by summer homes, I was informed by one of the more garrulous locals that archaeological remains, particularly sherds of painted pottery and pieces of dressed stone, came to light regularly while inhabitants were building or gardening in the area.These were disposed of as quickly as they appeared.The fear was that the government, getting wind of the finds, would appropriate the site and summer homes, compensating their owners at only a fraction of their (now) spiraling worth. I was assured that much more pottery had been located in the area, especially as foundations for homes were dug.The regular method of disposal, especially for large pieces, I was told, was dumping them into the sea nearby as soon as was feasible. It was at this point that the lady’s less talkative husband, who, she said, was a guard at the Brauron museum, told her to keep still. And from that point on she did. . Beck , .The “akropolis” of Philaïdai may have been aquiferous water percolating through it to the flanks of the hillock.There was some water in wells below it in : see n. . . Cf.the defensive positions of the Dark Age fugitive settlement of Koukounaries on Paros (and of others): Osborne , . . On visits to the area in  and , I noticed what seemed to be well heads near the find spot of the apparent stele or herm base.Thus, water from wells appears to be abundant: see n. .

  . Beck (, ) noticed several crops grown in the area (grapes, olives, figs, almonds, garlic, garden crops, alfalfa, and wheat), ranking them in descending order of importance. In  and in subsequent visits to the area, I observed cultivation only of the first two crops, which, of course, are not subsistence ones.The character of the land, which Beck notes is rocky (), undoubtedly accounts for most of the crops grown there. Except for the bottomland along the Erasinos, I found it not at all promising (but see n.  and fig. ). But cf. also n. . . The more recent arability of the land and sufficient water supply noted by Beck (, ) are surely modern improvements, and nothing like them would have existed in ancient times (as she also observes).The Erasinos River, with its mostly seasonal supply of water, provided the agricultural basis for any settlement in the area; there may have been small springs in the area of Philaïdai, certainly enough to sustain a small population (cf. appendix A, n. ). Cf. n. . . Cf. Beck , –; and Osborne , , for a characteristic view.The observations recorded here were made before the proliferation of housing tracts (e.g.,



       – 

“Artemis Estates”), which have completely altered the area’s ecosystem. In relation to population,Philaïdai,the deme of the region,was ranked by Traill (,) among the midsized demes of Attika, but I am unsure on what firm basis he makes the ranking or how that would apply to the archaic deme in any case. . Due west from Brauron, the mesogaia is reached by a not very strenuous climb to its table (I remain somewhat puzzled by Professor Lewis’s comment [, ] that “a sharp uphill walk is necessary to take one out of the marshy valley of Brauron itself to the -metre level of the main Mesogeia,” since, where one normally walks from Brauron to the mesogaia, the land rises rather less “sharply.”) I take all the tableland as far as Hymettos to be what the Athenians called the mesogaia and, in terms relative to Athens, the diakria or hyperakria (see fig. ). On the “thinness” of Attic soil generally, cf.Thuc. ... (cf. Hornblower , ; and Beck , ). . In , , , and , only viticulture was observable in the land toward Hymettos (see fig. ).The area further west around Koropi and south toward Markopoulo is, of course, renowned in recent times for the production of resinated wine (cf. Barber , ). Olive trees have been planted on the western flank of the hill Agrielista, that is, right on top of the proposed site of Philaïdai (see appendix A). . Certainly Beck (, ff.) is far more optimistic than I am about the region’s agricultural potential.The fertility of the place, attested by locals, is probably due to the intensive gardening they manage as agricultural dilettantes. Nonetheless, the possibilities for growing a variety of crops, albeit in small patches with small yields, are present. . Beck (ibid., ) also noted beekeeping in the area. Although I did not see this on my earlier visits, I do not doubt it. . The extensive area south of Spata, west of Brauron/Philaïdai, must have been reasonably good land for horses and presumably could have supplied its cultivators with fodder (cf. fig. ). . Miltiades III: Hdt. ..; Paus. .. and .; cf. Davies , –. Kimon koalemos: Hdt. ..; cf. Schachermeyr c, –; and Davies , .The connection of the descendants of Kypselos (i.e., the Philaids) to Philaios, the eponymous of the deme, was made by Pherykydes FrGrHist ,  F  and Hellanikos FrGrHist  F  (= Didymos [= Markel. Vit.Thuc. ]; cf. Davies , –). It is disputed by Lewis (, ), who positions the Kypselid/Philaid genos at Lakiadai, west of Athens on the Sacred Way (Hdt. .); cf. also Davies , . I am unsure why, in any case,the encounter of the Dolonkoi with Miltiades at Lakiadai would exclude Philaïdai as the home deme of the Kypselid/Philaids or, for that matter, why the “details” of this story would be taken at all literally (cf. Lewis ): see now Anderson . The Dolonkoi encounter can hardly be considered much more than contrived: really, are we to believe that the Thracian Dolonkoi acquired a Greek chieftain merely by happenstance? Surely, if there is any truth to the story that the Dolonkoi actually made their way to Athens and applied for a leader, they did so most likely because of the Athenian presence in Sigeion and were directed to Miltiades because of Peisistratid patronage: cf. Isaac , .The Peisistratids had abodes in Attika elsewhere than Philaïdai, which nevertheless remained their home deme, and the Kypselid/Philaid genos can surely have possessed more than one Attic residence. Cf. Berve ,  ff.; Kinzl , , n. ; Figueira , –; and Anderson . Cf. also chapter II, n. . . Marathon burial: Catling –,  (MH). Lefkandi: Catling –, ; Whitley , –; Lemos , . A LM IIIA horse sacrifice at Arkhanes in

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Crete is noted by Sakellariou and Sakellariou (, –). (I thank Dr. Paul Rehak for this reference.) This provides yet another link of the region’s inhabitants to Bronze Age forebears: cf. chapter II..B; and nn.  and . . Cf. Frost , . . Cf. Popham, Sackett, and Themelis , ff. (who note [] Athenian contact during the ninth century B.C.E.); Osborne , –; and Thomas and Conant , –. . On Pithekoussai, cf. Osborne , –. On Al Mina, see Osborne , –. Cf. Boardman (, –), who suggests that trade was already under way by ca.  B.C.E. Hiller’s suggestion (,  after Hallager and Taylour) that Dark and Archaic Age colonization was rooted in earlier Mycenaean contacts with the same areas seems right. On precolonial contacts, see Graham , –.The material record of Lefkandi/Xeropolis shows continuity between the Late Bronze and early Dark Ages, and it would be no coincidence, then, that the Euboians led the way in colonization to the west (where the Mycenaeans had been before) because they had more substantial links to them. Cf. Killian . It is unreasonable to imagine that the Lelantine Plain was depopulated and abandoned by such colonization, however (cf. Morris , –): the settlers at Pithekoussai need not have been all Euboian after all. On the Lelantine war, see n. . . On the Thalassocracy lists, see Euseb. Chron. .; cf. Jeffery , –. There is really no satisfactory explanation for the thalassocratic scheme of Diodoros/Eusebios,placing Eretrian hegemony just before Aegina’s (cf.Jeffery ), Miller’s enthusiasm for it () notwithstanding: the “traditional” dates for the Eretrian thalassocracy are too late to coincide with the period of the city’s greatest power and prosperity. Cf. French , . On the Lelantine war and the destruction of Lefkandi, see Hdt. .. (cf. How and Wells , .);Thuc. .. (Gomme , –; and Hornblower , ); Str. ..– (); Plut. Mor. e–b; cf. Blakeway –, ff.; Bradeen ; Boardman ; Forrest , ff.; Donlan ; Bakhuizen , –; Jeffery , ff.; and Thomas and Conant , .Although Eretria seems to have been bested in the conflict, its power remained considerable: cf. Str. .., who notes an inscription from “old” (i.e., pre-Persian sack) Eretria that numbered the Eretrians participant in a festal procession at three thousand hoplites, six hundred horsemen, and sixty chariots. Cf. Popham, Sackett, and Themelis , –. Cf. also nn.  and . . The Eretrians may have turned their attentions more fully southward and seaward to possibilities after their defeat in the Lelantine war. For all, however, they appear to have reached some accord with the Chalkidians so as to be able to sail through the Euripous. . This string of names might perhaps have been a further link to the Neleidai. Nestor and the Pylians were, of course, renowned horsemen in Homer: cf. Il. ., ., etc.; and Kirk , . Cf. also Shapiro b, and chapter II..C. . On Euboian horse culture, see Jeffery , –; cf. Popham, Sackett and Calligas –,  and ; and Thomas and Conant , ; and Lemos ,  on horse burial at Toumba. See also nn.  and . . On the Abantes as descendants of the Achaians, see Il. .– (cf. Kirk , –); on their reputation as Homeric-style fighters through to the seventh century B.C.E., cf.Archilochos Fr.  W (cf. Campbell , ); and Str. ...



       –

. Xeropolis-Lefkandi was inhabited almost continuously from LH IIIC until its destruction (perhaps the late ninth or early eighth centuries B.C.E.), and Eretria seems to have been the successor of that destroyed city of the Lelantine Plain (cf. Thomas and Conant , ). On the destruction of Lefkandi-Xeropolis and the connection between Lefkandi and Eretria (pace Bakhuizen , ff.), see Popham, Sackett, and Themelis , ff. On the heroön of Toumba, see Popham, Calligas, and Sackett ;Osborne ,–;Thomas and Conant ,–; and Lemos , –. . The horse burial at Lefkandi, where two horses were laid on two, might parallel the burial of the four horses of Kimon koalemos (Catling –, ; Catling –, ; Winter , ; cf. n. ): evidently, the four horses of Lefkandi also comprised a chariot team and two on two might well have been the ritually correct form of such burials. Cf. also Catling –,  (a ceramic horse with pithoi). See also n. . . The destruction of Eretria in  B.C.E. and subsequent transportation of the population by the Persians (Hdt. .,) appears to have been the blow from which the city never really recovered (cf. How and Wells , .). Karystos sided with the Persians in  after force was brought to bear by Datis (Hdt. ..), was again arrayed with the Mede in  (Hdt. ..), and was subsequently punished by the Delian League for that complicity (Hdt. .., ., .;Thuc. ..; cf. How and Wells , .; Gomme , –; and Hornblower , –). . Cf. How and Wells , .–.The Athenian “apology” for their expulsion of the Pelasgians from Attika (Hdt. ..–), that is, that it was in reprisal for the attack of the Pelasgians on Athenian girls at Enneakrounos, might be a doublet of the Brauronian rape, for both provided pretexts (or rather explanations) for land seizures from the Pelasgians (cf. Merriam , ). Since the myth of the Lemnian deeds became proverbial, it might be thought to antedate the myth of the Pelasgian ejection from Attika, that is to say, the Lemnian deeds myth might actually have inspired the Pelasgian myth instead of the other way around cf. appendix A, n. . Cf. also n. . . Thuc. ..; cf. Gomme , ; and Hornblower , . . Cf. Peppas-Delmousou , . Homer on raids: Il. .ff.; cf. Hes. Cat. .ff., where the sea raids of Salaminian Aias against Troezen, Epidauros, and several other cities are described. Aias’ aim was, however, to capture flocks not people. Megarian piracy from Salamis: Legon , ; cf. also chapter II..A.. Aeginetan attacks on Phaleron: Hdt. .ff.; cf. Figueira . . Theo– ria: Paus. ..; cf. Parker , . Peppas-Delmousou (, –) suggests that the theo– ria’s departure from Brauron for Delos predated its departure from Prasiai, but even on the basis of LH IIIC finds at Perati that community appears to have been much more robust and so more significant than Brauron. It would likely have been the earlier point of departure, for one thing, because it possessed a much more serviceable harbor (see Kron commenting on Peppas-Delmousou in the epilogue discussion of her article []; cf. also chapter II, nn. – and –). Peppas-Delmousou’s reinterpretation of Ar. Pax ff. and devaluation of the scholion to it seems to rely too much on the prejudice of Farnell (, , nn.  and ). . Cf. French , ; cf. also Barber ,  (on connections among Syros, Euboia, and Anatolia in EC IIIA and IIIB) and ff. . Cf. appendix C, n. .

Notes to Pages –



. Cf. chapter I, n. . I take Thucydides’ diagnosis of Archaic tyrants’ greed to be accurate overall (pace Hornblower , ) and that Peisistratos was no different. In Peisistratos’ case, his enrichment (like subsequent democratic politicians’) seems to have been implicated with the prosperity of Athens, and in fact Thucydides may well be guilty of overgeneralizing in Peisistratos’ case: cf. nn.  and . . Cf. Lavelle a, . . On Kallias, see Hdt. ..; cf. How and Wells , .; and Davies , –. . Thucydides’ pronouncement on the enrichment of tyrants (see n. ), which must have been made with the Athenian tyrants at least in partial view, may have been made more in reference to the younger tyrants, whose building projects and displays were far greater than anything we know of Peisistratos, than to the older tyrant. Cf. chapter I, nn. –. . Plut. Sol. .. For what it is worth, Plutarch uses ejxevkamnon (were tired out, weary) to describe the Athenians’ state. Cf. also chapter II..A.–; and n. –. . This was a crisis of manpower, perhaps, but more likely one of leadership: see n. . Cf. also chapter II, nn.  and ; and n. . . Cf. chapter II, nn. –.The Athenians’ attested weariness with war and Solon’s response to it (see n. ) find a certain parallel in an earlier time in the words of Kallinos of Ephesos (F  W). Cf. Campbell , –; and chapter II..A.. . Cf. chapter II..A. . Cf. chapter II..C.; see also n. . . Cf. chapter III, nn. –; cf. also Lavelle , –. . Cf. chapter III, n. . . Hdt. ..; cf. chapter II..D.; and chapter III, n. ; cf. also n. . . Cf. Hdt. .., where it is clear that the Megarian war was paramount in the Athenians’ regard for Peisistratos; cf. also chapter II.. . Cf. French (, ), who states that “the original basis of Peisistratos’ following, like that of other local dynasts in other parts of Attica, lay in the local influence he exerted by reason of his landed wealth.”That is mere assumption, for we do not know it from any source but simply assume that Peisistratos was substantially landed. Cf. chapter II, n. –. . Contra Davies , . On the concept of “big men” as it might apply to Archaic Greece, Athens, and the Peisistratidai in Philaïdai, cf.Whitley , –, which observes the circumscribed natures of such magnets. . Cf. chapter IV.; and Lavelle b, –. . Cf. chapter IV..C.; and Lavelle a, – and n. . . Kraay , ff.; Lavelle a, –. . Plut. Them. .: th;n tovte kaloumevnhn sofivan, ou\san de; deinovthta politikh;n kai; drasthvrion suvnesin, ejpithvdeuma pepoihmevnou kai; diaswvzonto~ w{sper ai{resin ejk diadoch`~ ajpo; Sovlwno~. . Cf. chapter III .B.

  . Cf. Lavelle . Cf. also Gray (), who argues that the broader context shaped Herodotos’ account of Peisistratos’ rise.This amounts to reassertion of a very



       –

long-standing criticism of him but also (and especially) of Thucydides: patterning more determines the texts of these historians than facts do, and in this case Herodotos relied less on sources and was less concerned to report specifics than he relied on himself and generalities. Of course, to believe this undoes Herodotos (as well as Thucydides) as a historian. Gray’s thesis, which is to be taken as partially valid—some patterning is obviously perceptible in both historians—fails to take account of the individuality of reports and facts in Herodotos. This is very palpable in the case of Peisistratos’ rise. Both historians walked a line between patterning and the reporting of facts as they understood them, but both were concerned more with reality than fancy. It is hard to imagine that either sacrificed what they took to be the truth for such deterministic patterning as Gray imagines. . Hdt. ..–; cf. Lavelle .We add to that sparse reading the fact that Hippokrates’ name, like his grandsons’, was also a horse compound, implying a further connection to the horse culture of the diakria. See also chapter II, nn. –. . Cf. Lavelle , . Stahl’s interpretation of Hippokrates’ refusal to heed Chilon’s warning (, ) (“Hieran lässt sich auch die erste Teilgeschichte anschliessen, die die Ignoranz des Vaters von Peisistratos, Hippokrates göttlichen Vorzeichnen gegenüber demonstriert”) is too one-sided:the religious shortcoming of Hippokrates’ refusal to heed Chilon’s warning was balanced for Herodotos’ Greek reader by the severity—indeed, the inhumanity—of the Spartan’s monition not to beget any children. As for many figures in Greek tragedy—Laios and Iokaste come readily to mind—Hippokrates was (surely meant to be) caught between no-win alternatives. . Hippokrates’ disregard may also be an aetiological comment on Peisistratos’ tyrannical nature, which is of course implicated with hubris: cf. Soph. Oid.Tyr.  (cf. Dawe , –). Cf. appendix H. . Thuc. ... See appendix A, n. . Since the names of the father and grandfather of Myrrhine, wife of Hippias, were apparently written in the ste– le– ’s inscription, it is reasonable to assume that the name of Hippias’ grandfather (Hippokrates) was also written. It is less certain that his great-grandfather’s name (i.e., the name of Peisistratos’ grandfather) was also in the inscription, for it is never mentioned in sources. Cf. also Rühl , , n. ; Lavelle b, , n. ; and nn.  and . . On the basis of naming patterns among the Athenians, it is possible that Peisistratos’ grandfather had the same name as he. (Of course, he is disqualified as the archon for – B.C.E.) Cf., however, Davies , ; and n. .There is no positive information about his grandfather’s name. Cf. chapter II, n. . . Cf. Lavelle a, , n. . If the name of Peisistratos’ mother was preserved, it, too, could have been in an inscription such as that upon the ste– le– adikias: see nn.  and . . It seems unlikely that the Athenians would have accepted Peisistratos’ stories about his Pylian ancestors unless his father and mother were believed to be of that stock. Indeed, we would expect to hear about Peisistratos’“alienness” if his father and mother were non-”Athenian” immigrants: cf. chapter II..B.; and n. . . Plut. Mor. b–c; cf. Lavelle , , n. . . If that is so, then the record about Hippokrates was more extensive than what the testimony about him in Herodotos implies. However, this is very unlikely, since we have next to nothing even about Peisistratos’ earlier career. Cf. n. . . Paus. ...; cf. Beloch , ..; Schachermeyr a,  (“Dessen [sc.

Notes to Pages –

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Peisistratos,archon –] Enkel oder Grossnesse war wohl Hippokrates ...derVater des Tyrannen Peisistratos”); Cadoux , ; Berve , .; Davies , ; Shapiro b, Jeffery , ; Develin , ; and de Libero , . . Cf. Davies , :“though homonymity is the only argument for supposing that Peisistratos (I), archon in / . . . was an ancestor [sc. of Peisistratos the tyrant], this argument is nearly strong enough by itself ”(!). I obviously disagree. Cf. nn.  and . . Cf. Hignett , ; and the discussion in de Libero , , n. . . See chapter II..C. . Cf.Vanderpool , –; and Jeffery ,  and .e.Vanderpool (followed by Berve , .) suggested that the sherd referred to the tyrant rather than the archon.What did the name being written on the sherd mean? On the sherd, see further; SEG XXIX, ; and Arnush , –, who nevertheless wishes to downdate the ostrakon to the s. Homonymity is also at the root of the identification of “Ky[pselo]s,” archon for – B.C.E. (Bradeen , ; Meiggs and Lewis , ; Davies , ) with the father of Miltiades, the oikist (settler) of the Thracian Chersone– se (cf. Bradeen ,;Meiggs and Lewis ,;Davies ,;and Arrowsmith ).Surely there were others at Athens who aspired to flatter the tyrant family of Corinth (cf. Salmon , ff.) or seek Kypselos’ good luck by naming a son after him. Indeed, the kouros (youth statue) dedication commonly known as the Kroisos of Anavyssos (Athens, National Museum ; cf. Davies , ; Ridgway , –,  and figs. a–c; and Osborne , –) must represent such. (See Anderson , –.) On the other hand, even if the “Kypselos” who was archon did in fact derive from Philaïdai, there is really nothing to conclude about the Peisistratidai, the diakria, or Athenian attitudes with respect to them: indeed, such an office could have been extraordinary, even anomalous, in view of Athens’ political crisis in the early sixth century B.C.E.: see chapter II..A; appendix B, nn. –; and n. . Herodotos’ treatment of Peisistratos’ rise depicts the diakria as distinct from Athens in the early sixth century B.C.E.: cf. chapter II, nn. –. . Cf.Davies ,.An opportunity may have been created for the outlander Peisistratos in – B.C.E. by extreme circumstances (cf. n. ). But the identification with the tyrant house or even the diakria is all very shaky indeed, and the earlier “intervention” amounted to nothing in the long run for Peisistratos in the sixth century. . Cf. chapter III..A.– and .B. . Plut. Sol. .. . Herakl. Pont. F  (Wehrli) (= Plut. Sol. .); Diog. Laert. . (citing Sosikrates, who is inferior as a source [because later] even to Herakleides for events in the life of Solon). Herakleides was apparently not the first to make the two lovers: cf. nn.  and . Cf. Schachermeyr a, ; Freeman , ; Berve , .; Davies , ; and Gottschalk , .The testimony of Diog. Laert. . adds nothing to Herakleides’. On Herakleides’ historical authority, cf. Bosworth  (who, I think, invests Herakleides with too much credibility). Cf. also Gottschalk , ff.; Podlecki , ; Oliva , ; and Lapini , ff. . Cf.Wilamowitz , I.; Davies , ; Podlecki , ; and de Libero , – (who cites the silence of Herodotos). Freeman (, ) seems not at



       – 

all skeptical. Cf. Schachermeyr b, :“Was über die Beziehungen des jungern P. und Solon berichtet sind . . . ist vager Natur und wahrscheinlich Fiktion”; and Rhodes ,  (on Plutarch’s treatment of Solon). Cornelius (, ), finds the erotic attachment suspicious. . Cf. however Podlecki . . Cf. Wilamowitz , I.; cf. also Gottschalk , ; and Podlecki , . . Herakleides F  Wehrli (= Plut. Sol. .–). Herakleides seems to be following another’s lead here: see nn. , –, and –. . Herakleides F  Wehrli (= Plut. Sol. .). . Theophrastos F  W (= Plut. Sol. .); Phanias of Eresos (FrGrHist  F  [= Plut. Sol. .]). Cf.Ael. V.H. .. Cf. also Wilamowitz , .; Gottschalk , , n. ; Develin , ; and de Libero , –. . Cf. Ath.Pol. ., which I take to be based on information earlier than Herakleides’ work nevertheless pluralizes those who made Solon and Peisistratos lovers (cf. nn.  and ). Cf. Rhodes , ; cf. also Gottschalk , , on Herakleides’“‘psychological’ method of writing history”; and Lapini . Cf. also nn. –. . I take the date of Solon’s archonship (see n. ) to be as accurately transmitted as any other archon date from the sixth century B.C.E. and that the special commission to reform the laws must be directly linked to it: cf. Rhodes , –. See also chapter II..A.. . Although dismissed as nonsense on chronological grounds by AP (.), the erotic connection is nonetheless repeated by Plut. Sol. . and Ael. VH .. Cf. Schachermeyr b, ; and Berve , . (“weniger glaublich”). Podlecki (, , n. ) states that the chronology does not rule out the possibility but says nothing about sources, context, and the overriding concerns of those who unite the two: cf. n. . (It is to be noted, however, that AP says that Peisistratos could not have been strate– gos in the war with Megara for Salamis on the same chronological grounds: cf. Rhodes , ; and chapter II..A..) On Ath.Pol. ., cf. Rhodes ,–;and Chambers ,.Cf.also French ,,n.;Hopper , , n. ; and Legon , . On the birth date of Peisistratos, see appendix D. On the archonship of Solon (Sosikrates apud Diog. Laert. .), see Cadoux , –; Podlecki , –; and Develin , –. (One would imagine that archon years, written in perhaps several reliable sources, would be more difficult for one such as Sosikrates to get wrong.) On Solon’s sojourn from Athens, see Plut. Sol. .; cf. also Linforth , ff.; Freeman , –; and Podlecki , although Podlecki opts for the late departure of Solon on the infirm authority of Herakleides and Diogenes Laertios. (Contra Podlecki , , a later date for the sojourns, as suggested by Diogenes Laertios [.], in conjunction with Herakleides [F  Wehrli], in opposition to the implication that Solon left more or less immediately, surely is not to be preferred: cf. Ath.Pol. .; Freeman , ; and Rhodes ,  [“D.L. I.–, , dates Solon’s travels later . . . because he believes that Solon could not have lived under Pisistratus’ rule”] That appears, then, as a deviation from Herakleides’ maverick dating of Solon’s death: cf. n. .) Cf. also n. . . Cf.Wilamowitz , .. It was both logical and undoubtedly appealing to Herakleides (and his audience) to connect Solon and Peisistratos as blood kin: as,

Notes to Pages –



for example, Odysseus’ cleverness was made to derive by blood from his clever “ancestors” Sisyphos,Autolykos, and Hermes (Il. .–;Aesch. F  [Nauck]; Soph. Aias  and schol. ad loc.; Suida s.v. Sivsufo~), so did the wisdom of the two Athenian sophoi (wise men) spring from a common ancestry. Perhaps the blood link was further inferred because of Solon’s ties to Salamis (cf. chapter II..A.. and .E) and Peisistratos’ to Salaminian Aias through Philaios (cf. chapter II, n. , and section .D.. and E). Herakleides was no historian: his interest was not simple fact (cf. n. ). His information about Solon was probably included in Peri; th`~ ajrch`~, the source for information for Diogenes Laertios about Periandros (.), and one that Diogenes classes as one of Herakleides’ ethical dialogues (.). Cf. however Gottschalk , , n. , and . (I omit discussion of Bakaoukas, .) Was Herakleides’ ultimate source Kritias, a member of the genos of Solon? Was he uniting the two part of Kritias’ antidemocracy political program? Cf. Freeman , –. But see also Davies , –, on the difficulties of the family link between Solon and Dropides. (Davies, nevertheless, seems to accept the affiliation.) Cf. nn.  and . . The most emphatic source for such a union may well have been Herakleides himself (cf. Manfredini and Piccirilli , ff.; and n. ). Cf, however,Wilamowitz , I., n. . . Cf. Podlecki  on doublets involving Solon and Peisistratos. Cf. chapter II..A. and .E. . Cf. Eder , : “One may say that Peisistratus could well have been regarded as a second Solon in the eyes of the demos. . . . Both of them actually provided tyranny.” Cf. n. . . Plut. Sol. . (= Herakleides F  [Wehrli]); see also .. Solon was firmly entrenched among the Sieben Weisen (Dio. Laert. .; Snell , ff.; Oliva , –) already by the fifth century (cf. Hdt. .–; and Snell , ff.; cf. also Chiasson ; and Brown ); Peisistratos was sometimes admitted by ancient authors (such as Kritias? Cf. n. ) into that circle (cf. Diog. Laert. .) and sometimes excluded, undoubtedly because of his tyranny (cf. Diog. Laert. . [on Plato’s refusal of Periandros] and . [on Plato’s exclusion of Peisistratos and inclusion of Myson of Khe– n]). Cf. Podlecki , . . Cf. Podlecki (), who is finally unable to disentangle one’s actions from the other’s. Cf. chapter II, n. . . Peisistratos preserved the existing (i.e., Solonian) laws: Hdt. ..; Ath.Pol. ., .–; Plut. Sol. .–; Diog. Laert. .. Solon’s tyrantlike power was in his special commission, by which the Athenians vested him with extralegal powers.These allowed him first to suspend the ancestral (and draconian) laws and then to restate, revise, or abolish them in order to end the crisis affecting the polis: Ath.Pol. .– (Rhodes , –; Chambers , ), .; Plut. Sol. ., .. Cf. also Jacoby , . McGlew (, ), concludes that Solon was not originally delegated the power of nomothe–sia, but that view overlooks Plut. Mor. d, which indicates that Solon was elected archon, diallakte–s (law-giving mediator), and nomothe– te– s simultaneously: this makes much sense in view of the circumstances of the Solonian crisis and of Solon’s already proven patriotism. Cf. Rhodes , ; and Develin , –. . Cf. [Plat.] Hipp. b–c; and Lavelle a, . Deaths of tyrants are stock in philosophical works: cf. Plat. Symp. c; Arist. Rhet. b; Athen. a, a; and



       –  

Plut. Mor. c. On Harmodios and Aristogeiton, see [Plat.] Hipp. c; cf. Lavelle a, ; cf. also chapter I, n. . May we see a reflection of the relationship of the philosopher Plato and the tyrant Dionysios here? On Kroisos and Solon, see, for example, How and Wells , .–; Podlecki , –; Chiasson ; Shapiro ; and Laurot ; cf. also Crane . . Demetrios of Phaleron wrote on laws (Diog. Laert. .) and may well have introduced Solon into them as the author of precedents for those he himself introduced into Athens as tyrant. The notion that Solon sponsored Peisistratos’ tyranny would have served Demetrios, who united philosopher and tyrant in himself. Cf. Gottschalk , . . Cf. Davies , –; and Dillon and Garland , .The information of the Ath.Pol. does not appear to have been invented: Timonassa’s name and her father’s could have derived from the ste– le– adikias. See sections A and B. . The schol. Eq.  calls her “Myrrhine” but also says that she impersonated Athena in Peisistratos’ famous ride back into Athens (Hdt. ..–). But Phye is the name specified by Herodotos for Peisistratos’ charioteer and Myrrhine was the name of Hippias’ wife (Thuc. ..; cf. n. ): there is obviously confusion here, which subverts the worth of the “evidence.” Cf. Rhodes , ; and Davies , . See also chapter III..B. . Thuc. .. (cf. n. ); AP (.) calls the mother of Hippias and Hipparchos a gamethv (wedded wife),but that may have no other authority than what Thucydides implies (cf. Rhodes , ). Cf.Toepffer , –. . o{ti de; presbuvtato~ w]n ïIppiva~ h\rxen, eijdw;~ me;n kai; ajkoh`/ ajkribevsteron a[llwn ijscurivzomai, gnoivh dÆ a[n ti~ kai; aujtw`/ touvtw/: pai`de~ ga;r aujtw`/ movnw/ faivnontai tw`n gnhsivwn ajdelfw`n genovmenoi, wJ~ o{ te bwmo;~ shmai`nei kai; hJ sthvlh peri; th`~ tw`n turavnnwn ajdikiva~ hJ ejn th`/ ÆAqhnaivwn ajkropovlei staqei`sa, ejn h|/ Qessalou` me;n oujd Æ ïIppavrcou oujdei;~ pai`~ gevgraptai, ïIppivou de; pevnte. On the evidence of the ste– le– adikias and Thucydides’ interpretation of it (or rather argument from it) for Hippias’ elder status, cf. Lavelle , ff.; on the ages of Hippias and Hipparchos, cf. Schachermeyr a; Davies , –; Lavelle , , n. ; and appendix D. An ancient Greek’s life normally ended between seventy and eighty years: cf. Solon F  W, ll.–; and Plato Leg. a; cf. Hdt. ..; and Diog. Laert. . and  (F  W). Garland (, ) estimates that those who reached the age of sixtyfive years in antiquity were under  percent (cf. Finley , ) and that fewer than  percent attained the age of eighty years. (He appears to concede, however, that conditions in Greece may have permitted greater overall longevity for the ancients [], and this would seem to have affected many Athenians [e.g., Sophokles, Euripides], of whom we have knowledge.On the other hand,later Greek ages may have been somehow gentler than earlier ones, and Solon’s view, which is contemporary with conditions affecting Peisistratos and his sons, seems most pertinent.) Cf. further Richardson ; Falkner and de Luce ; Finley , ff.; and Garland , ff. See also appendix D and n. . . Cf. Beloch , ..–; Schachermeyr a, ; and Schachermeyr b, . Many scholars place Nisaia closer in time to the tyranny: cf. de Libero , , n. . See appendix D and cf. n. . . Cf. Lavelle , , n. . . This resolution is obvious in Herodotos’ account of Hippias at Marathon

Notes to Pages –



(.), which is otherwise dominated by the story of the erstwhile tyrant’s perverted dream on the eve of the battle. On the dream of Hippias see Griffith ; and Holt . . Cf. Lavelle , – and n. . . Yet, although a source for the information or explanation of the transmission of the information has never been suggested, the advice story has been uncritically accepted as veracious and exegesis about Peisistratos’ earliest marriage has proceeded imprudently therefrom: see, for example, Davies , . See chapter IV..A. Cf. also de Libero , . . On the age of Greek marriage, cf. Hes. Works and Days – (cf.West , ); and Solon F , .  W; cf. Garland , –. On age qualifications for the strate– gia (and other Athenian offices),cf.Ath.Pol. ., . (cf.Rhodes ,–, ); cf. also . (the minimum age of the kosme–te–s [organizer] of ephe–boi [youth] is forty, although this is a fourth-century office). Rhodes (, ) points out that this age qualification pertained more to moral rectitude than combat experience in any case. Surely the reverse will have been true in times of war: Schachermeyr (b, ) makes  B.C.E. the earliest year possible for Peisistratos’ “polemarchate” on that basis and  likelier (cf. n. ). Pritchett (, , n. ) notes that generalship required vigor and obviously some youthfulness: age qualifications may have been suspended during emergencies or under special circumstances, and Peisistratos could have taken advantage of a crisis situation and served as an underaged strate– gos.Yet he will certainly not have become a commander of the Athenians as a youth (even on Pritchett’s criteria), and experience and the establishment of some sort of record of successful service against Megara is implied: cf. Figueira a, . Cf. also Beloch , ..–; Cornelius , ; Rhodes , ; and Lavelle b, ff. See also nn.  and  and appendix D. . Peisistratos’ generalship is likelier to have been attained by him sometime after , that is, after the age of thirty when he had had more time to demonstrate his military capacities and become recognized as a war leader. Presumably, by ca. –, that is, between thirty and thirty-five years of age, Peisistratos had already performed at least some of those “great deeds.” Cf. Beloch , ... See appendix D. . Cf. Schachermeyr a, ; and chapter II..B. . On old age among the Greeks, see n.  and appendix D. Peisistratos’ wife could have had other children, live born who died young, stillborn, or miscarried, who preceded Hippias and at least some of whom were named: indeed, we might well imagine that Peisistratos’ first- or second-born son was names Hippokrates, not Hippias. But cf. n. . . Davies , :“Peisistratos’ first marriage . . . probably belongs to mid or late s.” Later he states that “ is practically the latest possible birth-year for him [sc. Hippias].”As Hippias was eldest, one imagines that in any case his birth occurred not long after the Peisistratos’ first marriage. Cf. further appendix D. . Ath.Pol. .– (Rhodes ,–);see also Hdt..;and Plut.Cato Mai. .. Cf. Beloch , .., –; Schachermeyr a, ; and Ogden , –. . Kleisthenes: Hdt. ..; .. (cf. Davies , –). Kimon: Hdt. ..; Plut. Kim. . (cf. Davies , ). On the citizenship law, cf. Patterson . On the problem of me–troxenoi (mother-foreignness), see Ogden , .



       –

. Cf. Davies , . On Athenian gene– sioi/nothoi, see Ogden , –. Although there may seem to be problems with the notion of polygamy (cf. Gernet , –), they mostly have to do with material advantages for second parties. What Gorgilos of Argos obtained for his part is not completely clear, although Hegesistratos’ command of Sigeion could have been part of the bargain. (Cf. nn.  and .) Could the Peisistratid involvement in the Troad initially have come about because of some such agreement between Peisistratos and Gorgilos? (We do note that Timonassa was married to the Ambrakiot Archinos, a fact that might suggest that, whatever patrimony Gorgilos imagined for his grandsons, his aims for them were implicated with colonialism.) Cf. Ogden , .The silence about the mother of Hippias and Hipparchos, we note, stands in direct contrast to the “noise” made about Koisyra, apparently the fourth wife of Peisistratos: cf. chapter IV..A.. . There are, of course, other ways to explain that cooperation: see chapter IV..A.. . The name Thessalos, if linked to politics, however, might be taken as an indication that Peisistratos’horizons had widened beyond Attika by the arrival of the third (?) son. Cf.Wilcken ; and Davies , . . Cf. Davies , ; and n. . . duvo dÆ ejk th`~ ÆArgeiva~ ÆIofw`n kai; ïHghsivstrato~, w|/ parwnuvmion h\n Qevttalo~. 〈ejp〉evghmen ga;r Peisivstrato~ ejx ÆArgou~ ajndro;~ ÆArgeivou qugatevra, w/| o[noma h\n Gorgivlo~, Timwvnassan, h}n provteron e[scen gunai`ka ÆArci`no~ oJ ÆAmprakiwvth~ tw`n Kuyelidw`n. o{qen kai; hJ pro;~ tou;~ ÆArgeivou~ ejnevsth filiva, ka;i sunemacevsanto civlioi th;n ejpi; Pallhnivdi mavchn, ïHghsistravtou komivsanto~. gh`mai dev fasi th;n Argeivan oiJ me;n ejkpesovnta to; prw`ton, oiJ de; katevconta th;n ajrchvn. The information about the offspring appears to have been ultimately derived (with some garbling) from the ste– le– adikias of Thucydides (see n. ); the information about the marriages probably comes from an Atthis or Atthides: see below text. Cf. Plut. Cato Mai. .; Toepffer , –; Rhodes , –; Andrewes a, –; Stahl , –; and de Libero , . Rhodes (, ) dismisses the identification of Thessalos with Hegesistratos in the Ath.Pol., noting that it is derived from controversy surrounding Hipparchos’ assassination and not from authority. Cf., however, Stahl , ; and Wilcken , . Cf. also n. . . Cf. Toepffer , –; Rhodes ,  (Rhodes [–] is right to cite Wilcken [] for going too far in wanting to expunge the entire passage.) . de Libero (, ) calls Timonassa “der Tochter eines führenden argivischen Aristokraten,” but there is no explicit evidence for this. Gorgilos was obviously a man of note with dynastic ambitions, but his modus, apparently, to marry his daughter to tyrants could suggest a lack of mainstream status: cf. Cornelius , . Cf. also nn.  and . . Cf. Rhodes , :“No other surviving text includes this detail [sc. of disagreement between authors], so we do not know who oiJ me;n and oiJ de; are, or what is the basis of their disagreement.” (Cf. also Rhodes , .) AP did use Atthides, and a primary source was Androtion; another, perhaps corrected by Androtion (but cf. Harding , ff.), was Kleidemos. Both are explicitly followed by AP. Cf. Rhodes , –, on sources for the Ath.Pol. . Cf. Daverio Rocchi , , n. ; and Davies , –. Schacher-

Notes to Pages –

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meyr (a,  and –) downdates Palle– ne– to – B.C.E., but this is certainly erroneous: see appendix D. . Cf. Cornelius , , n. . . So Beloch (, ..), who suggested that Hegesistratos’ name (i.e., “Leader of the army”) and his Argive status brought about the ascriptions (cf. Schachermeyr a, –; Davies , ; and Rhodes ,  and ). . Cf. Ogden , –.There are other examples of teenagers participating in battles in antiquity (e.g., Alexander at Chaironeia).These instances are, however, extraordinary and exceptional. Hegesistratos’ leadership at Palle– ne– could have been inferred simply from the presence of an Argive contingent there and his “command” of them substituted for the anonymity of the Argive field commander. . Noted in Davies , . . Hdt. ..; Cornelius , . During the earliest part of his second period of rule, he was married to Megakles’ daughter. During his second exile, he was away in Euboia or the far north.The marriage must thus be placed within that “window” of the first period of rule and first exile. For the date of Peisistratos’ first expulsion, cf. Rhodes , ; cf. also appendix D. Some consider Peisistratos to have been a bigamist (cf. Stahl , ) or Timonassa a concubine (Mossé , ), but they do not explain why such a status would have been attractive to Gorgilos: some part of the contract seems to have remained in place until the time of Palle– ne– since a thousand Argives arrived to fight on Peisistratos’ behalf.There are in fact no good grounds for considering that Timonassa held such an inferior status. See chapter III..C. . Cf. nn.  and . The case of Kylon (chapter II..A.) is not analogous to Peisisitratos. Kylon was, to begin with, a member of the established Athenian aristocracy, presumably had (or, rather, thought he had) a political backing at Athens, and was an Olympic victor when he married Theagenes’ daughter: he had ample prestige and, he must have thought, possibility. His prospects were attractive to Theagenes (see chapter II..A.). The same may be said for Megakles, who married Agariste, daughter of Kleisthenes, tyrant of Sikyon (Hdt. .–; cf. Lavelle , , n. ; and chapter II, n. ): he was very wealthy and, though of the enageis, was also of the established Athenian nobility. Peisistratos was, of course, an outlander apparently of no particular distinction, and, as we have seen (chapter III..A), less connected to the Athenian “establishment.” . Cf. Salmon ,  and n. , but cf. also de Libero (, , n. , and ), who contradicts Salmon. It is very difficult to see what other than leader and so tyrant of the Ambrakiots Archinos could have been. . Schachermeyr (a, ) opts for marriage in exile really because of the “illegitimacy” of the Argive offspring (but cf. nn.  and ). Cf. also SteinHölkeskamp (, –), who observes the higher “panhellenic” profile of the marriage to Timonassa (and notes Peisistratos’ aims) but seems in any case to disregard the question of Gorgilos’ profit, as well as the entire controversy of information about the marriage dating in the Ath.Pol. Little can be concluded from the positioning of the “opposite” views of the marriage dating in the Ath.Pol., but it is quite possible that the author arranged them thus because the earlier stated view derived in fact from the more recent “correcting”Atthis. See n. . . Perhaps Timonassa’s known (but now nonextant) whereabouts after the ex-



       – 

ile (viz., Argos) and the classification of her sons as nothoi, indicating nonresidence in Attika, further supported the belief. Cf. Schachermeyr a, : “Die Ursache liegt vielmehr darin, dass Peisistratos während seiner ersten Verbannung mit Timonassa im Auslande lebte; diese Ehe musste er aber lösen, als er zurückkehrte, um die Tochter des Megakles zu heiraten. So blieb Timonassa mit ihren Kindern in der Fremde, jedenfalls in Argos, und die beiden Söhne Hegesistratos und Iophon sind überhaupt nie Athener geworden.”Where is the evidence for all this? Cf. n. . . Hdt. ..–.; Cf. also Lavelle , –. Cf. chapter III..C.. . Cf. Stein-Hölkeskamp , –. . Cf. Berve , .–;Andrewes a, ; and Lavelle , , n. . . Of course, deception is a stock characteristic of tyrants, and Peisistratos seems to have been one of the basic contributors to the construction of the image: he was well known for political trickery after all. Cf. chapter III..A.; cf. also Lavelle , –; but cf. Lavelle , ff. . Cf. Lavelle ,  and ; and , ff. . Cf., for example, Andrewes a, . It is quite possible, as we have seen, that Peisistratos never abrogated the terms of the marriage to Timonassa: cf. Ogden , . . Explanation of this causes Ogden (, ) much difficulty. He finally declares, in relation to Hegesistratos’ rights, that the “rights of dynastic bastards are ever a special case.” He had already acknowledged the problems of even classifying Hegesistratos as a bastard. . Contra Ogden ,,Sigeion was hardly Hegesistratos’“own little kingdom.” If we assume that Peisistratos married Timonassa during his first tyranny, then it is also possible that Hegesistratos, probably the oldest of the children, was conceived shortly after the marriage in – and so could have led the Argive contingent. Cf. n. . . Schol. Nubes ; Lavelle a, ff.

  . Ath.Pol. .: Peisivstrato~ me;n ou\n ejgkateghvrase th`/ ajrch`/ kai; ajpevqane noshvsa~ ejpi; Filovnew a[rconto~, ajf Æ ou| me;n katevsth to; prw`ton tuvranno~ e[th triavkonta kai; triva biwvsa~, a}ad Æ ejn th`/ ajrch`/ dievmeinen, eJno;~ devonta ei[kosi; .: (sc. the younger Peisistratidai) parevdwkan th;n ajkrovpolin toi`~ ÆAqhnaivoi~ ejpi; ïArpaktivdou a[rconto~, katascovnte~ th;n turannivda meta; th;n tou; patro;~ teleuth;n e[th mavlista ejptakaivdeka ktl. On Philoneos (and Peisistratos), cf. Schachermeyr a, ; Cadoux , ; Rhodes , ff. and ; Pesely , –; and Develin , ; on Harpaktides, cf. Cadoux , –; Rhodes , ; and Develin , .The date for Harpaktides’ archonship relies really on two dates: () that for Isagoras’s archonship (given by Dion.Halik. .. in Ol. . [= – B.C.E.]); and () that for Hipparchos’ death (– B.C.E.).According to the Ath.Pol. ., Hippias was expelled “in the fourth year” before Isagoras’ archonship, i.e., –. Herodotos (.) says that Hippias ruled for four years, but Thucydides (..) and the author of the Ath.Pol. (.) say that Hippias was expelled “in the fourth year after” Hipparchos’ murder. Hipparchos was killed during the greater Panathenaia, a four-year festival occurring in the third year of an Olympiad, presumably (– B.C.E.) (cf. Cadoux , ). (Thucydides also says [..] that the

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Four Hundred were established in the “hundredth year after the tyrants were expelled” [i.e., – B.C.E.; cf. Andrewes , ], thus, – B.C.E. for the date of Harpaktides.) The date for Philoneos is thus –.Jacoby (,,n.) seems to prefer – B.C.E. but makes rather a good case for –. . Hdt. ..: (sc. the Peisistratidai) a[rxante~ me;n ÆAqhnaivwn ejpÆ e[tea e[x te kai; trihvkonta; Arist. Pol. b, –: di;~ ga;r e[fuge Peisivstrato~ turannw`n, w{stÆ ejn e[tesi triavkonta kai; trisi;n eJptakaivdeka e[th touvtwn ejturavnneusen, ojktwkaivdeka de; oiJ pai`de~, w{ste ta; pavnta ejgevneto e[th triavkonta kai; pevnte. . Cf. Jacoby , , n. , on the possibility that the archon list carried annotation: cf. n. . . Cf.Thuc. .. (the Archedike epigram; cf. Lavelle b; and Sancisi-Weerdenburg a, ): the heirs of Hippias praise him as the “best man of his day,” an inflated appraisal to be sure (though Hippias was well reputed enough to be offered Anthemous by Amyntas of Macedonia and Iolkos by the Thessalians [Hdt. .]).This is nonetheless a genuine demonstration of filial piety and even affection for their father. Similar sentiments were probably expressed by Peisistratos’ offspring about him. He far outstripped Hippias in accomplishment and glory, and his immediate heirs had the means, and quite possibly the political need (smoother succession?), to commemorate him appropriately at his death. (We may nevertheless disagree with the notion of heroization: cf. Cavalier [/]; and Hanah [/].) A number of Peisistratid monuments of less exalted types (votives, dedications, etc.) survived at Athens from the era of the younger tyrants well into the fifth century and beyond, weathering a damnatio and the Persian invasion: the younger Peisistratos’ dedication of the Altars of Apollo and of the Twelve Gods, although the latter was built over by the fourth quarter of the fifth century (Thuc. ..; cf. chapter I, n. ), Hipparchos’ herms ([Plat.] Hipp. c–b; Kirchner and Dow ; Lavelle ); and Hipparchos’ Akademy Wall (Suida s.v. to; ïIppavrcon teicivon; cf. Lynch ).These monuments were probably either partly or entirely effaced, very likely around the time of the Persian wars, inasmuch as their contents were deemed affronting and possibly even outrageous.The survival of some few of them, however, suggests a proliferation of Peisistratid monuments (if only during the latter period of the tyranny) and uneven destruction of them. (On the [imperfect] obliteration of the tyrants’ monuments, see Lavelle b, ff.; and , –.) Perhaps the more obvious and exalted ones were more thoroughly destroyed because they were deemed more offensive: one imagines, for example, that no Peisistratid dedication or votive survived on the akropolis (cf. Lavelle , ff.). Peisistratos’ passing was perhaps observed in less conspicuous funerary inscriptions in the lower city and survived the process of damnatio and even the Persian destruction (and Themistoklean wall construction), as other lesser monuments did.Yet even if all commemorations were destroyed in the damnatio (or if such commemorations never existed), Peisistratos’ death date was undoubtedly retained in oral tradition and tied to the archon year of Philoneos (cf. n. ; cf. also Thomas , ; and Lavelle , , n. ). . Cornelius (, ff.) seems to have been first to recognize this; cf. also Lavelle , ff. . Cf. Pherek. FrGrHist  F : Filai`o~: . . . tou` de; ïIppokleivdh~, ejfÆ ou| Panaqhnaia ejtevqh. . . . ; Ath.Pol. .: ejpÆ ÆAristaivcmou a[rconto~, Dravkwn tou;~ qesmou;~ ejqhvken: (although Jacoby expresses some doubts about such annotations [, ff.,



       –

–]). The archon list of the Peisistratid era (cf. chapter I, n. ) was apparently well known to Thucydides (cf...),although his diagnosis of how individuals were elected to the archonship need have been based on no more than deduction (cf. Jacoby , –; and Lavelle , , n. ). Such information can also have been located ultimately in oral tradition (contra Jacoby , ; cf. Thomas ,  and  and n. . . Thuc. ..: Peisistravtou ga;r ghraiou` teleuthvsanto~ ejn th`/ turannivdi ktl. Ath.Pol. . (see n. ; cf. Rhodes , ). Cf. also Schachermeyr a, ; Cadoux , ; and Develin , . . I am thinking of Hellanikos, but not ruling out Kleidemos or Androtion. . Cf. Lavelle , , n. . . Cf. Falkner  (with a fuller bibliography). Solon’s hebdomads proceed from the apparent assumption that seventy was the threshold of death. Solon did not invent that number but was famous by the fifth century for asserting it (cf.Hdt...; Falkner , , n. ): his reply to Mimnermos (F  W; Falkner , –) underscores his assertion of the hebdomadic scheme. Cf. also n. ; and appendix C, n. . . Cf. n. ; and appendix C, n. . . On Peisistratos, cf. How and Wells , .; Beloch , ., : “Das Datum des Todes [sc. of Peisistratos] kann ebenfalls ungefähr richtig sein, da der Tyrann im höheren Alter . . . gestorben ist, und er – nahe an  Jahre gezählt haben mag”; and Rhodes ,  (apparently after Schachermeyr):“Pisistratus will have been about seventy-five [sc. at death]”. Although Peisistratos could not have been classed a gero–n (old man) (cf.Thuc. ..) until he had attained his sixtieth year (cf. Dio. Laert. .; and Sallares , ), a strategia held during the s implies that he was nearer to forty by the first tyranny and around seventy when he died in – (cf. Falkner , , n. ). . Cf. chapter III..C and .B. . Ath.Pol. .; Plut. Sol. .; cf. Marm. Par. Ep. ; Euseb. Chron. (Ol. . – B.C.E. [although there is a variant for Ol. .; cf. Cadoux , ]); cf. also Cadoux ,–;Rhodes ,;and Develin ,.The date – B.C.E. also agrees with the length of Peisistratos’ tyranny inclusive of exiles given by Aristotle (Pol. b, –) and in the Ath.Pol. (.). See also n. . . It could be argued that no inscription or other durable medium might be expected to have survived commemorating it explicitly. Why would the Peisistratids have kept it? Would the hostility of the Athenians not have worked against commemorating it? Wouldn’t the Persian destruction have obliterated it? “Aristion’s graphe– ” (Ath.Pol. .; cf. Rhodes , ), which purportedly proposes the first tyranny, I take to be a fiction of literature and of no bearing on the question of what official documents might have survived from the sixth century into the fifth and fourth centuries B.C.E. (cf. Lavelle, –, n. ; and chapter III, n. ). (Pace Cadoux , ; cf. Beloch , ., ; and Mossé ,  [“évidenment un anachronisme.”] The problems with the survival of any document citing the establishment of the first tyranny of Peisistratos are further compounded not only by the tyranny’s general odium in the fifth century but also because such a document might harm those who had collaborated with the tyrants but survived politically into the fifth century by recollecting their unpopular actions (cf.Thomas , ; and Lavelle, ff.). On the other hand, we find that we have really no reason to infer general hostility among

Notes to Pages –



the Athenians to Peisistratos’tyranny either at its beginning or throughout.Of course, other memories of the Peisistratids (and other tyrants: see n. ) survived, and, for whatever reason, because the first tyranny is reckoned in accordance with the archon year of Komeas that information seems to have survived, too. . Cf. nn.  and . Admittedly, the information about Damasias’ usurpation of power (Ath.Pol. .) could have depended on no more than the prorogation of his archonship: cf. Cadoux (, , n. , and –), who states that “the probability that [Damasias’ illegal tenure] was described in the archon-list as ajnarciva is very high”; Rhodes , ; Develin , ; and chapter III, n. . On the other hand, the greatest triumph of tyranny was at Palle– ne– , which fixed “slavery” for thirty-six years. Its date was surely firmly fixed in tradition: cf. Hdt. .. and Ath.Pol. . (cf. nn.  and ). . See appendix C, n. . . Cf. Davies , . . Cf. appendix C, n. . . Cf. ibid. . The curious dating by John Malalas ( Jeffreys, Jeffreys, and Scott , ) of Peisistratos’ activity apparently in the Megarian war, that is, between the eclipse predicted by Thales ( B.C.E.; cf. Mosshammer , –) and the foundation of the Pythian Games ( B.C.E.), seems much too early and Peisistratos far too young to have been a general in the war. . Schachermeyr’s slightly earlier range of dates, – B.C.E. (a, ), which has gained general acceptance from scholars, does not widely diverge from those that I propose.These make Peisistratos ca. sixty at the time of Palle– ne– , which, in view of the Athenians’ opinion of old age, seems to be rather too old for initiating and maintaining a viable tyranny for eighteen years: cf. appendix C, n. . Indeed, as any maturing person will attest, there is a great deal of difference in vitality between the ages of fifty, fifty-five, and sixty years—especially for those who are very active in their youths and have endured much hardship. Admittedly, in all of this we are really capable of nothing more than reasonable calculations, and Schachermeyr’s range of years is certainly credible. It is possible, though I think not really plausible on contemporary Greek views of old age and retirement, that Peisistratos was one of those remarkably vital Athenians who was active in rather extreme age right up to his death: his life, unlike Sophokles’ or even Sokrates’, was very eventful and full of hardship. . Cf. Rhodes , –. . Cf. Cadoux , –; and Develin , .The date is reckoned from the archonship of Komeas (see n. ). . Cf. Rhodes , . . There is a problem here in that “ten years”may actually be an imprecise figure, amounting, after all, to “a really long time” rather than precisely ten years. It is, however, the best figure we have from our sources. . Cf. chapter III..C.

  . Ath.Pol. . (cf. Rhodes , – [cf. also –], who notes the disparities between Kleisthenes’ divisions and the parties). Cf. Jacoby b, :“[The



      

Herodotean division] gives the impression of being earlier than Kleisthenes’ division into a[sth, paravlia, and mesovgeia.” Cf. also nn.  and . (This appendix is substantially based on a portion of an article that appeared in Classical et Mediaevalia  [Lavelle , –]. I am very grateful to the editors of that journal for their permission to draw on it thusly.) . Philochoros FGrHist  F : (= Str. .. [] (tw`n Pandionidw`n tessavrwn o[ntwn, Aijgevw~ te kai; Luvkou kai; Pavllanto~ kai; tetavrtou Nivsou, kai; th`~ ÆAttikh`~ eij~ tevttara mevrh diareqeivsh~, oJ Nivso~ th;n Megarivda lavcoi kai; ktivsai th`n Nisaivan); cf. schol. Ar. Lys.  (Aijgei` me;n th;n para; to; a[stu mevcri Puqivou, Pavllanti de; th;n Paralivan, Luvkw/ de; th;n Diakrivan, Nivsw/ de; th;n Megarivda). Cf. also Andron (FrGrHist  F ). Cf. Hopper , ff. Pace Jacoby b, : th;n para; to; a[stu is not equivalent to hJ para; (peri;) to; a[stu (even in the mind of the scholiast): rather, this is a synonym for the Athenian (i.e., Kephissian) Plain, and all three Attic names agree with the Herodotean party names. See nn. ,  and . . Cf. Jacoby a, : “As regards the position of Aigeus, tradition since Sophokles assigns to him a kind of supreme royalty . . . and Ph. probably agreed with this tradition.That position was natural as he resided in the povli~ and ruled the plain belonging to the city.” Cf. also Thuc. ..; and Gomme , , on the Spartan invasion of Attika in  B.C.E., commenting on to; pevdion: “the basin of the Kephissos (the southern half of which comprised the town trittyes).” . Thuc. ..; cf. Gomme , . (on the paralia): “i.e., the whole of the coastal belt of Attica from Aixone to Sounion and from Sounion to Rhamnous (where it looks toward Euboea), which is not the same as the area of all coastal trittyes of Kleisthenes’ organization (this included all the land of Aigaleos as well).” Cf. also Hornblower , . . Sophokles, in the fifth century B.C.E. (Strabo .. p.  [= Soph. F  (Nauck); F  (Pearson)]), described the diakria as “the garden lying opposite to Euboia” and Hesychios, much later, as “the area from Parnes to Brauron.” Cf. Hesychios s.v. Diakrei`~; cf. also Hopper , –, –; and Lewis , , n. . . Jacoby (a, –) wrongly detaches Eleusis and the Thriasian Plain from Nisos to give them to Aigeos. As to Nisos’ domain, Philochoros and Andron of Halikarnassos (n. ) agree, the former making Nisos’ share extend “from the Isthmos as far as the Pythion,” while the latter “[from the Isthmos] as far as Eleusis and the Thriasian plain.” Jacoby’s error turns on his adamant designation of the “Pythion” as positioned “on the boundary between Attica and Megaris,” that is, in the Thriasian Plain over against the Megarid, when in fact we should be seeking it beyond the cho–ra (land) of Eleusis,toward Athens,over against the Athenian (= Kephissian) Plain.The Pythion should therefore be the famous temple of Apollo at Daphni, a natural division between the city and its “plain” on the one hand and the land of Eleusis on the other. Aigeos’ domain would naturally have included the Kephissian Plain but not Eleusis or the Thriasian Plain (see nn. –), since these would belong to Nisos as part of what was then the Megarid. Nisos’ portion proceeded north, west, and southwest from there to include Eleusis, the Thriasian Plain, and the Megarid. Philochoros’ and Andron’s general agreement suggests that the asty and the pedion as far as Daphni were considered part of the same portion.Thus, the “city and the adjacent plain” were synonymous, as they should reasonably be. Pace Jacoby a, , that makes three of

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the four names of the ancient divisions of Attika agree in their essentials with the party names found in Herodotos. . Jacoby a, ; cf. Hopper , –. Jacoby is, I think, quite wrong to say that “these three parts of Attica [i.e., paralia, pedion (plain), and diakria] never were . . . even mythological units”: cf. Hopper , :“It would seem, then, that in the classical period, and probably earlier, three regions were recognized: Pedion, Paralia, and Diakria, quite apart from the question of the parties.” Cf. n. . . The myth was known to Sophokles (n. ), but seems to be alluded to in a vase painting by the Syriskos painter dated ca.  B.C.E. (Beazley , ; Jacoby b, ).We should be fairly confident that this mythical division was understood by the Athenians from at least the early part of the sixth century. . Jacoby b, ; cf. Hereas the Megarian (FrGrHist  F ), countering Athenian claims that Salamis was Athenian because of the way bodies were arranged in prehistoric graves there. Cf. also Plut. Sol. , where other Athenian propagandizings pertaining to Solon and the Solonian period seem to be described. Cf. chapter II..E. . Jacoby (b, ) further suggests that such claims were also meant to curtail Megarian pretensions to Attic land, viz., the Thriasian Plain and Eleusis. On the victory at Nisaia, see chapter II..F. . Cf. Hopper ,  in regard to political divisions: “The vagueness of Herodotos seems to show that already in his time the sixth century situation was not clearly understood.” Cf. also Lavelle , ff. . On Agariste, see chapter III, n. ; on Alkmeon, see chapter III, nn. –. . Cf. Berve , .; and Lavelle , , n. .

  . Cf. scholia ad loc. (Scheer , –); cf. also Sandys , ; and Mooney , .This appendix is dedicated to M. F. McGregor, an esteemed teacher. . S Lyk. Alex.  (Scheer); Step. Byz. s.v. ïRaivkhlo~. On Aineia: cf. Hdt. ..; Livy ..; Merritt, Wade-Gerry, and McGregor Athenian Tribute Lists (ATL) I, –, –, and n. . On the foundation of Aineia, see Livy ..; cf. Edson , –. (Edson [–] is undoubtedly right to say that the original Thracian name suggested foundation by Aeneas: see n. .) Aineia was memorable in some traditions as the burial spot of Anchises. On Ainos/Aineia, cf. also Edson , , n. ; and Rhodes , . . Str.  Frs. , and . . Cf. Hdt. ..; and Livy ..: “quindecim milia passuum ea urbs abest” (sc.Thessalonika). Cf. Edson (, ), who says the distance is eleven English miles. . Cf. Blackman –,  (“ km sw”); and –, . . Cf. Ps.Skym. – (th;n ajkra;n de; kaloumevnhn Aijneivan); Dion. Hal. ... Megalo Karabournou: ATL , . (Contra Edson: cf. n. .) Mount Khoriatis: Cf. Edson , –. Casson (, –) places “Rhaike– los” at Kalamaria on Mikro Karabournou (Karabournaki?), while Hammond (, ff.) suggests that Rhaike– los was the last part of the tableland running toward Aineia. Superior sites for residency are evident in the area. . ATL I, ; Edson , ;Viviers , ; cf. also Cole , . Schachermeyr (b, ) accepts the synonymity of Aineia and Rhaike– los.



       – 

. Edson , –. Cole (, , n. ) accepts Edson’s corrections of ATL but suggests that Rhaike– los was a settlement near Aineia. Cf. Rhodes , . . Dikaia: Plin. NH ..;Viviers , –. Hammond (, ) identified Dikaia as Lebet (Lembet?), but that is to the northwest of the Thessaloniki Plain. The earliest remains there were datable to the early ninth century. He notes () that the inhabitants of Lebet were “ideally placed for commercial exploitation.” The age of Lebet (or whatever the place was really called), however, eliminates it as Peisistratos’ Rhaike– los. Hammond’s identification of Lebet with Dikaia appears also wrong for other reasons: see n. . . Cf. Cole , ; and Viviers , . But cf. n. . . Edson , , n. ;Viviers , . Cf. Cole , , n. . . Edson , ;Viviers , , n. .While Stephanos may be “often careless and sometimes makes cities out of tribes and regions” (Edson , , n. ), he does not do so uniformly and the word used by AP to describe Peisistratos’ foundation on the Thermaic Gulf, synoikise, suggests that he did not do so in relation to Rhaike– los: cf. Cole , , n. ; and n. . . Cf. Sandys , . . Cf., for example, Liddell-Scott s.v. ktivzw. . Although Edson (, ) states that “Lycophron cannot mean that Aeneas founded Rhaike– los,” that is apparently exactly what Theon, prompted by a source which equated the two, took him to mean. . Cf. Couat , . . Cf. Sandys , . . Livy ., , . . Cf.Viviers , , n. . . Rhaike– los would seem to be a Thracian word. On synoikisein/oikein (dwell together) cf. Cole , , n. .Viviers’ assumption (, ) that Rhaike– los was a toponym still used in the fourth century B.C.E. is based on the use of kalei`tai in the Ath.Pol. Rather than indicating common use, it surely refers to the author’s source’s use, which obviously need not have been in the present tense. Once again, however, source is not considered by him.The insistence of the ATL authors (I, , nn.  and ) that Peisistratos changed the name of Rhaike– los to Aineia is simple fancy, since it ignores the fact that Rhaike– los is identified in our sources with Peisistratos. While both Edson and Viviers argue that Lykophron uses oikein to mean “inhabit,” they do not account for Theon’s ktisdein (to found). . The source the Alexandrians preferred, perhaps on the foundation of Aineia, may have overlooked the Peisistratid presence at Rhaike– los, but the ultimate source surely did not: cf. n. . . Cf. Edson , , n. . . It is to be noted that Androtion was later cited for information about Macedonia and Thrace, particularly from book III of his Atthis (cf. Frs. , , ) and, on at least one occasion, attempted to correct a view propounded by a precursor (pace Harding ,  [although I would not say for political reasons at all necessarily]). On the use of Atthides by the author of the Ath.Pol., especially in its first half, cf. Rhodes , ff. Even if the information in the Ath.Pol. is by some stretch derived from a later Atthis than Androtion, its information must have come from earlier Atthides.

Notes to Pages –



. I disagree with Edson (, ), who imputes the information about Rhaike– los to the authority of Aristotle and his statement that Aristotle (as a native Chalkidian) “had opportunities for very special knowledge of the Macedonian area” (cf. Cole , –, who seems to follow him in this line of thinking) in part because I believe, with Rhodes, that AP was not Aristotle. I am more in disagreement, though, with the assumption that a native of Stagira, living about two hundred years after the events and at some distance from the area of Rhaike– los, would have been somehow more familiar with foundations on the eastern coast of the Thermaic Gulf than a non-Stagiran. . Stephanos’ designation of Rhaike– los as a polis (cf. n. ) may have been based on the authority of the Ath.Pol. but more likely derived from its source or another: Peisistratos’ teichos of Rhaike– los could easily have become for Stephanos (or an intermediate source) the polis of Rhaike– los. . ATL I, . Dikaia’s circumstances, on the other hand, were not as outstanding, and one suspects that its relationship to Aineia was more that of a satellite colony. The Eretrians became the sole proprietors of the Aineia region after Peisistratos’ departure. Cf. Pliny NH ..; and Viviers , –. See also n. . . Hdt. .; cf. How and Wells , .:“Ai[neia is the only town of any importance (Livy xliv..).”An inscription, mentioning the ethnic “Dikaiopolitai,” has been found  km west of Ayia Paraskevi at Toumba Angellaki, about  km southeast of the Thessalonike– center.The record of this was published in Eleutherotypia on October , , by Dr. Kostas Sismanides.Whatever the site of ancient Dikaia, it would not appear to have been that of Rhaike– los. I thank Dr. Andronike Makres of the College Year in Athens Program for kindly supplying the information about the archaelogical publication by private correspondence.

  . Hdt. .. (cf.Turner , ; How and Wells , .–, ); cf.Thuc. ..– (Gomme , ; Hornblower , –). On the Peisistratidai and Delos cf. Fornis Vaquero . . Cf., for example,Arieti , . . The purification was oriented toward the temple (Thuc. ..; cf. n. ); some of the Archaic temple remains appear to derive from Attika and to date to ca.  B.C.E. (Boersma ,;but cf.Bruneau and Ducat , and ;cf.also Micheli , ). . Cf. Paus. ... On the theo– ria, cf. Peppas-Delmousou ; and appendix B. Cf. also Fornis Vaquero , ff. . Andrewes a, ; cf. Fornis Vaquero , ff. . Cf.Solon F a W (cf.Keil ,,n.);cf.also Thuc...–,. (cf.Gomme , , ; and Hornblower , –, –). . Naxos’ power to intervene and its importance in the affairs of the eastern Aegean are attested by Lygdamis’ apparent installation of Polykrates on Samos (Polyain...),by Aristagoras’designs on it (Hdt..ff.;How and Wells ,.), and by Datis’ capture and devastation of the island in  (.; How and Wells , .), followed by its inclusion within the Persian sphere before Salamis (cf. ...). Cf. Hdt. . on the “felicity” of the island.



       – 

. Cf., e.g., Baba , . . Cf. How and Wells , .–. On the Delian Confederacy, cf., for example, Meiggs , ff.; McGregor , ff.; and Pomeroy et al. , ff.

  . On the conspiracy and this scene see, for example,Vellacott , ff.;Adams , ff.; Ahl , ff.; and Edmunds . (I thank Professor Lowell Edmunds for the kind gift of an offprint and also for his helpful comments upon an earlier version of this appendix.) Cf. also Hogan , . . Proposed by an anonymous commentator in the early nineteenth century, the emendation plouvtou for plhvqou~ is accepted by Dawe , ; Lloyd-Jones and Wilson b, ; cf. Lloyd-Jones and Wilson a, –; and Rusten , , among others, primarily because the sense of the passage is improved by the change but also because the repetition of plh`qo~ seems suspect: for example, Roussel , :“Cette correction paraît d’abord excellente: elle supprime la répétition plhvqei du vers suivant,elle faite naître un bon chiasme plouvtou + fivlwn = plhvqei + crhvmasin”; Dawe:“plhvqou~ in the MSS comes by error from plhvqei immediately below.We need another word denoting political asset besides fivlwn.” (Cf. also Lloyd-Jones and Wilson a,.) Others such as Jebb ,,and Kamerbeek ,–,do not emend. Cf. Edmunds ,  and n. ; and Seaford , . See also nn.  and . . Allen (, ) suggests that te plhvqou~ kai; fivlwn = plhvqou`~ fivlwn and that,“in regal fashion, (sc. Oedipous) may be thinking wholly of the first, essential requirement—money supplied by the would-be tyrant’s wealthy friends.” But political philoi amount to active partisans, not passive financial backers, and are resources in their own right quite distinct from the chre– mata that they might supply (cf. Connor , –). In a heightened emotional state, Oedipous more reasonably repeats and so emphasizes rather than waxes eloquently, speaking more remotely and actually more obscurely: cf.Vellacott (, ), who notes Oedipous’ repetition in the lines following these and (on another scene) remarks ():“Spontaneous anger is not so self-conscious.” (Cf. also Ahl , , in relation to this scene:“Oedipous bursts in, speaking in an overbearing, overstated, illogical, and unjust manner.”) As it is, the repetition of both resources has significance for the Athenians, and the emended reading plouvtou (n. ) should stand. . Cf.Vellacott , ; and Ahl , . . Cf. lines –, –. . Cf.Adams , . . Cf.Ahl , ff. . Cf. Seaford , ; cf. also Vellacott , :“This is a taunt at Creon as the merely average politician.” . Cf. Dawe , :“[Oedipous] acquired tyranny himself however by a entirely different route.” Cf. also Raebehl , ; Peraccioni , ; and Ahl , . See also nn. , , , and . . Jebb , . . Dawe , : “Oedipous’ reflections on the acquisition of tyranny will have struck a responsive note in the audience of Athenian democrats.” Cf. also Edmunds , ; and Seaford , .

Notes to Pages –



. Cf. Hornblower , –; cf. also Kamerbeek , –. . The interrelationship of Athenian tyranny and other Greek tyrannies in Thucydides is made explicit at ..: Æ Epeidh; di; oi{ te ÆAqhvnaivwn tuvrannoi kai; oiJ ejk th`~ a[llh~ ïEllavdo~ ktl. Cf. chapter I, n. . Cf. Gomme , ; and Hornblower ,  (Hornblower apparently repeats Gomme). . Allen  points out that, according to Thucydides .., Pelops acquired his power by a “mass of money” (plhvqei crhmavtwn). On wealth and Athenian tyranny see Kallet . . Cf. Gomme , ; Hornblower , –. . The similarity between the two was observed without comment by Mistriotis , ; Earle , ; and most recently Ahl , : “Oedipus’ talk of tyrannis, his tyranny, and how one becomes a tyrant, recalls Herodotus’ accounts of coups in the sixth century B.C.E.”This, with obvious reference to the Peisistratids. . Cf. Lavelle b, . . Cf. Lavelle . It is notable that Herodotos does not use the word fivloi to describe the Attic partisans of Peisistratos but instead stasiw`tai, a[lloi te ejk dhvmwn and the circumlocutious toi`si hJ turanni;~ pro; ejleuqerivh~ h\n ajspastovteron. It is not unreasonable to suspect that he—or more likely his source—meant to avoid linkage between these, many of whose descendants surely remained in Athens in the fifth century B.C.E., with the politically explosive term fivloi tw`n turavnnwn (Ath.Pol. ., .; cf. Connor ). . Cf. Lavelle b, , and chapter IV..B. . Cf. Lavelle , ff. A possible alternative is that the repetition, which is more strongly stated in Herodotos, was the historian’s and that Sophokles “borrowed” from him (cf. most recently on such “borrowing” Finkelberg ). Sophokles was surely aware of Herodotos’ work, regardless of when we date publication of the Histories (cf. Fornara ; and Cobet ) or the production of Oedipous Tyrannos (cf. Knox ), and the ancients understood that the two were friends (Plut. Mor. b; cf. How and Wells , I.). Sophokles is held by many scholars to have “borrowed” elsewhere from Herodotos, the most famous example of which “borrowing” derives from the Antigone (ff.; cf. Jebb ,  n; How and Wells , , n. ; Brown , ; Hart , ;Waters , ; Evans , , ff., ; and Finkelberg , ff. But cf. also Myres [, ], who doubts the linkage of these passages. For a list of “shared” passages see Podlecki , –.) It is impossible to conclude that Sophokles actually derived what he says about the foundations of Peisistratid tyranny from Herodotos here, since information about the tyrants could reasonably have come to him, an Athenian, from Athenians rather than from a foreign intermediary. On the other hand, it is quite possible that Sophokles “borrowed” the form of Herodotos’ expression, that is, the repetition of and so the emphasis upon the formula for foundation of the tyranny, which might have been the historian’s alone. Herodotos was after all responsible for the way facts were related in the Histories, and there was really no need, beyond those he imagined, repeatedly to mention the crucial ingredients in the formula for Peisistratid tyranny. . Sourvinou-Inwood , ff. . Cf.Ahl . . Cf. Lavelle .



     

. Hdt. ..This is a case of fiction becoming “truth,” since the dream of Hippias was surely completely concocted from folklore motifs. See Bonner , –. On the “dream of Hippias” see appendix C, n. . . The pertinence of this passage of OT to the Peisistratids was first brought to my attention by Professor Alan Sommerstein, whom I thank for kindly doing so. Cf. Edmunds ; and Seaford , the latter specifically focused upon tyranny in Athenian tragedy.

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Index `

Abantes, 182, 313 Acarnania, 184 Achaia/Achaians, 63, 182, 183, 247, 263, 290, 313 Acharnians (Aristophanes), 242 Aegean Sea, 57, 138, 139, 184, 227, 228, 297, 331 Aegina/Aeginetans, 258, 260, 272, 313, 314 Aelian, 318 Aeneas/Aineias, 222, 224, 225, 329, 330 Aeschylus, 238 Agamemnon, 21 Agariste, daughter of Kleisthenes of Sikyon, 79, 98, 201, 202, 220, 221, 253, 264, 281, 323, 329 Agariste, mother of Perikles, 307 agathoergoi, 287 Agathokles, 238 Agrielista, 177–79, 312 agroikoi, 72 Aias, 20, 32, 60, 61, 63, 246, 247, 249, 259, 314, 319 Aias (Sophokles), 105 Aigaleos, 328 Aigeos, 219, 328 Aigospotamoi, 57 Aineia, 120, 121, 126, 223–27, 329, 330, 331

Aineias Taktikos, 13–15, 31, 50–57, 60, 255, 258, 270–72 Ainos, 223, 329 aisymne–tes/aisymne–teia, 24, 25, 253 Aixone, 328 Akademy, 165, 325 Akanthos, 257 Alexander (I), king of Macedonia, 131 Alexander (III), king of Macedonia, 323 Alexandra (Lykophron), 222, 224, 225 Alexandria/Alexandrian, 224, 225, 330 Alkaios, 183 Alkibiades the Elder, 80, 148, 197, 281, 283, 285 Alkibiades the Younger, 7, 108, 153, 281 Alkmaion, 248 Alkmeon, 16, 47, 79, 89, 125, 158, 185, 198, 220, 221, 276, 280, 281 Alkmeonids/Alkmeonidai, 3, 9, 10, 11, 15, 37–43, 78–80, 87–89, 91, 92, 98–100, 105, 108–11, 118, 142, 145, 148–50, 152, 153, 186, 188, 194, 202, 205–8, 220, 221, 242, 243, 246, 248, 253, 254, 260, 261, 264–68, 280–86, 289, 305, 306. See also Alkmeon; Hippokrates, son of Megakles (II); Kleisthenes, son of Megakles (II);



 Alkmeonids/Alkmeonidai (continued ) Megakles (I); Megakles (II); Megakles (IV) collaboration with Peisistratids, 88, 89, 91, 92, 108, 109, 113, 114, 148, 150, 152, 153, 285, 286, 291, 301, 305, 306 (see also archon list, sixthcentury B.C.E. Athenian) Kylonian slaughter (sphage– ) and, 37–43, 80, 91, 105, 142, 158, 186, 206, 207, 264, 266–68, 282, 285 (see also Kylon/Kylonian affair) “party” of, 78, 79, 80, 87, 280–82, 291 (see also Megakles [II],“party” of ) sexual slanders of rivals, 109, 110, 158, 291 Al Mina, 313 Alyattes, 79, 220, 281 Amarousion, 250 Amarynthos, 250 Amazons, 252 Ambrakia/Ambrakiot, 98, 203, 205, 322, 323 Amompharetos, 272–73 Amphilytos, 10, 13, 70, 145, 146, 289, 305 Amphipolis, 126–29, 131, 132, 133, 296–98. See also Ennea Hodoi Amyntas, king of Macedonia, 121, 294, 325 Anakreon, 238 Anatolia, 184, 229, 251, 314 Anavyssos, 317 Anchimolios, 258, 259, 302 Anchises, 329 Andokides, 147, 148, 149, 244, 304, 305 Andrewes,A., 81, 228 Andron, 328 Androtion, 293, 297, 304, 322, 326, 330 Anthemous, 294, 325 Antigone (Sophokles), 333 apate–, 164 Aphidna, 308 Aphrodite, 103 apoikia/apoikiai, 118, 124, 224 Apollo Delian, 62, 228

  Pythios, temple of, 328 Apollodoros, 238 Archaic period, 22, 23, 28, 57, 58, 109, 122, 127, 154, 177, 181, 182, 184, 185, 193, 200, 214, 225, 233, 251, 253, 266, 300, 313, 315, 331 Archaiologia, 12 Archedike, 243, 325 Archelaos, 164 Archidamian War, 264 Archilochos, 127, 313 Archinos, 98, 203, 205, 322 archon list, sixth-century B.C.E. Athenian, 11, 88, 91, 152, 211–13, 239, 284, 325, 326 Areopagos, Council of the, 4, 239 Ares, 103 Argilos, 296 Argos/Argives, 97, 98, 110, 136–40, 198, 203, 204–9, 218, 257, 288, 301–3, 322, 323, 324 Aristagoras, 125, 127, 129, 131–33, 138, 297, 300, 302, 331 Aristaichmos, 261, 325 Aristeas, 242 aristeia, 103 Aristeides, 239 Aristion, 72, 277, 287, 311, 326 Aristogeiton, 108, 196, 197, 284, 320 Aristophanes, 135 Aristotle, 34, 35, 50, 72, 210, 259, 260, 270, 274, 326, 331 Arkhanes, 312 Arretine, 178 Artaphernes, 138, 302 Artemis Amarysia, 250 Brauronia (Athens) Peisistratids and, 22, 171, 250, 308, 309 Brauronia (Brauron) cult of, 21, 22, 28, 173, 175–77, 183, 187, 250, 251, 308, 309 Peisistratids and, 22, 173, 250 spring at temenos, 310 temple/temenos of, 20–22, 171, 173, 174, 176–81, 248, 249, 309, 311

Index Delia, 228 Kolainis, 22, 171, 250, 308 Mounichia, 22, 171, 308 Tauropoulos, 250 Artemisia, 242 Asia, 227 Astakos, 258 Asteria, 165 Atalante, 63 Athena, 10, 37, 40, 63, 84, 92–94, 98–106, 161, 228, 262, 263, 286, 289, 290, 320 Palle– nis, temple of, 18, 19, 141, 143–45, 149, 303, 304 Parthenos, temple of, 166 and Peisistratos, 102–6, 161, 228 Athe–naio–n Politeia (Ath.Pol.)/author of (AP), 3, 6, 12, 13, 40, 42, 46, 60, 63, 72, 73, 97, 117, 130, 133, 134, 136, 137, 139, 141, 160, 203, 204, 211–13, 216, 217, 222, 224, 226, 227, 243, 245, 255, 261, 265, 266, 270, 276–79, 283, 286, 288, 293, 297, 301, 303, 305, 318, 320, 322, 323, 326, 330, 331 and Peisistratos’Thracian sojourn, 117 Athenians/Athenian amnesty of 413 B.C.E., 70 aristocrats/aristocracy, 16, 26, 27, 29, 36, 39, 74, 78, 79, 106, 187, 189, 254, 264, 274, 276–80, 283, 288, 323 (see also gno–rimoi) astoi/asty, 2, 18, 27, 59, 67, 68, 74–77, 81, 82, 219, 278, 279, 282, 283, 303, 328 citizenship law, 321 culture of, during Peisistratid rule, 1–2, 237, 238, 239, 315 democracy/de–mokratia, viii, 3, 4, 8, 154, 162, 163, 166, 167, 173, 189, 238, 239, 277–81, 283 early-fifth-century B.C.E. democracy, 163–67 early-fifth-century B.C.E. democratic leaders (see also Kimon [III]; Miltiades [IV]; Perikles; Themistokles)

 military success, 163–67 need to obtain/exploit sources of wealth for de–mos, 163–67 popularity engendering political success, 163–66 democratic ideology, 6, 8, 64, 276, 304 “democratic” tyranny, 15–16, 92 (see also Athenians/Athenian, democracy/de–mokratia) – demos, vii, viii, 2, 5, 7, 8, 14–16, 26, 30, 36, 44, 66, 67, 73–75, 79–81, 83, 85–91, 93, 95, 97, 99, 111, 112, 147, 154, 159, 163, 166, 189, 230, 238, 275–81, 283, 287–89, 304, 319 as foolish, 86, 87, 95, 99, 100, 112, 113, 145, 157, 158, 221 de–mos (Solonian/Peisistratan), 14, 15, 16, 66, 67, 73–85, 87–91, 95, 97, 99, 102, 104–6, 111–14, 147, 154, 157–62, 166, 189, 238, 277–83 avarice of, 15, 16, 65, 74–77, 79, 80, 81, 86, 87, 90, 113–15, 118, 142, 143, 153, 157–59, 161–63, 167, 189 (see also chre–mata and its political importance at Athens) foolishness of (see Athenians/ Athenian, de–mos, as foolish) inconstancy, 66, 67, 76, 77, 79, 81 intermittently intense political activity, 76 necessity of consent to be governed of /leadership of, 14, 15, 16, 26, 66, 67, 75–77, 87, 90, 99, 102, 112, 118, 154, 157, 161, 162, 189, 215, 230 (see also prostasia/prostate–s tou de–mou) swayed by oratory, 15, 26, 66, 74–77, 85, 90, 157, 158 kle–rouchoi/kleruchies, 32, 166 the Kylonian affair and, 36–44, 93, 262–67 at Palle– ne– , 304, 305 strate–geia, 46–48, 167, 214, 270, 321 Athens agora, 14, 41, 67, 77, 82, 185

 Athens (continued) akropolis, 2, 24–26, 36–40, 44, 60, 62, 68, 91–96, 98, 99, 102, 104, 105, 155, 166, 173, 202, 213, 310, 324 Altar of Apollo Pythios, 238, 325 Altar of the Twelve Gods, 237, 325 Enneakrounos, 165, 238, 314 “pale” of, 18, 27, 97, 141, 144, 149, 160, 245, 246, 317 Temple of Hephaistos (see The– seion) Temple of Olympian Zeus (see Olympeion) Athmonia, 250 atimia/atimos, 148 Atthis/Atthides, 12, 13, 40, 97, 135, 172, 176, 211, 213, 226, 308, 322, 330 Atthidographers, 60, 64, 117, 172, 175, 203–5, 271, 306 Attic comedy, 308 Attika, 4, 18, 19, 22, 23, 28, 31, 32, 63, 72, 77, 110, 111, 117, 118, 134, 135, 137, 159, 171–73, 175, 180–85, 187–89, 200, 202, 203, 209, 211, 219, 250, 251, 254–56, 260, 262, 271, 273, 282, 288, 292, 293, 297, 301, 306, 312, 314, 322, 328, 331. See also mesogaia Aulis, 250 Autolykos, 319 Axios River, 121, 122 Ayia Paraskevi, 331 Ayios Yioryios, 309 Bacchos/Bacchic, 222 Bakla Burnu (Kardia), 295 barbaroi, 140 basileus/basileis, 18, 24, 92 bear dancing, 21, 250 Beck, M., 177 Black Prince (Edward of Woodstock), 252 Blok, J., 101 Boiotia/Boiotians, 250, 251 invasion of Attika under Xanthos, 23 Bolayir (polis Agoraios), 124, 133, 295 Bosporos, 120 Boudoron, 54 Brasidas, 129

  Brauron, 17, 20–22, 27, 28, 63, 171–78, 180–82, 184, 187, 246–50, 307–12, 314, 328 Brauron Bay, 171 Bronze Age, 20–22, 24, 27, 28, 31, 32, 34, 60, 61, 63, 165, 171, 175, 177, 180, 182, 184, 246–48, 250–55, 309, 313, 314 Building F, 93, 94, 286, 287. See also Peisistratos, son of Hippokrates, abode of, as tyrant in Athens Byzantion/Byzantine, 33, 178, 258, 297 Cape Geraistos, 184 Cape Poseidonion, 119 Capture of Miletos (Phrynichos), 44, 268 Chaironeia, 323 Chalastra, 223 Chalkidike– /Chalkidikian, 119, 120, 121, 182, 225, 331 Chalkis/Chalkidian, 5, 114, 182, 257, 313 Charias, 147, 304 Charon, 243 Chilon, 10, 13, 29, 67, 68, 146, 191, 192, 274, 276, 316 Chios/Chian, 306 chre–mata and its political importance at Athens, 15, 16, 65, 74, 79, 85, 87, 89, 91, 99, 111–15, 118, 130, 136, 152, 153, 156–59, 189, 233, 278, 279, 282, 299, 303, 332, 333. See also Athenians/Athenian, de–mos (Solonian/Peisistratan), avarice of in Oedipous Tyrannos, 231–35 Churchill, Sir Winston, 241 Çimpe Kale (Paktye), 295 Classical period, 21, 58, 122, 127, 171, 174, 176–79, 200, 214, 222, 310, 329 Clouds (Nubes) (Aristophanes), 135 condottiere, 121–23, 187 Connor,W. R., 100 Corinth/Corinthian, 33, 60, 62, 203, 253, 257, 265, 297, 317 Crecy, 252 Creon/Kreon, 231, 232, 233, 235, 264, 332

Index Crete/Cretan, 184, 313 Cromwell, Oliver, 241 Cyclades, 184, 229, 251 Daimachos, 268 Damasias, 186, 213, 277, 280, 327 Daphni, 328 Dareios, 126, 127, 130, 132, 298 Dark Age, 21, 28, 33, 171, 175, 177, 179, 182, 246, 251, 311, 313 Datis, 314, 331 Daton, 132, 296, 300 Dawe, R. D., 233 Dekeleia, 308 Delian League, 128, 139, 164, 227, 230, 313 de Libero, L., 101 Delos, 62, 138, 139, 184, 227–30, 273, 299, 314, 331, 332 Delphi, 37 de–magogos, 279 Demetrios of Phaleron, 277, 320 Demosthenes, 266, 267 diakria/diakrioi, 63, 96, 140, 144, 174, 185, 186, 187, 192, 219, 245, 246, 251, 253, 254, 273, 282, 283, 288, 308, 309, 312, 316, 317, 328, 329. See also hyperakria/hyperakrioi diallakte–s, 319 Diamant, S., 177 diapsephismos, 72 Diasia, 37, 38 diaulos, 36 Didymos, 224, 225 Dikaia, 119, 224–27, 294, 330, 331 Dikaiopolitai, 331 Diodoros Sikulos, 248, 313 Diogenes Laertios, 61, 273, 274, 287, 317–19 Diognetos, son of Euadnetos, 248, 252, 311 Diomedes, 103, 104, 105, 290 Dionysios, 34, 197, 259, 320 Dionysos/dionysiac, 222, 308 Dodekapoleis (Attic), 172, 251, 308, 309 dolichos, 257 Dolonkoi, 312

 Dorians, 24, 31, 39, 40, 47, 62, 63, 252, 254, 259, 263, 290 doryphoroi, 68, 95, 96, 241, 282, 283, 287. See also korune–phoroi; Peisistratos, son of Hippokrates, bodyguard of Douris, 306 Drabeskos, 125, 127, 132, 296, 300 Drakon, 261, 319, 325 Dropides/Dropidai, 246, 319 Dysoron, Mount, 131 Edonoi, 128, 296–98 Edson, C. E., 223, 224, 226, 227 Eion, 124, 127, 128, 132–34, 164, 165, 296–306 Elaious, 57, 227 Eleusis/Eleusinian, 14, 15, 31–35, 39, 43, 49–55, 59, 155, 173, 186, 219, 255, 256, 258, 260, 263, 270–72, 308, 328, 329. See also Mysteries, Eleusinian Elpinike, 110 embolon, 265 emporion, 128, 133 enageis, 78, 267, 323. See also Alkmeonids/Alkmeonidai, Kylonian slaughter (sphage– ) and England, 252 Ennea Hodoi, 127–29, 131, 132, 296–98. See also Amphipolis Epakria, 308 ephe–boi, 321 Ephialtes, 307 Ephoros, 257 Epidauros, 314 Epikles, 165 epikouroi, 124, 298, 299 Epimenes, 253 Erasinos River, 173, 174, 176, 178, 180, 181, 310 Erectheos, 255 Eretria/Eretrian, 66, 116–23, 125–27, 131, 133–41, 143, 152, 156, 159, 160, 182, 183, 187, 189, 192, 198, 199, 202, 224, 225, 250, 291–94, 300–303, 313, 314 Eris, 103

 Eteoboutad, 78 Euboia/Euboian, 22, 63, 66, 153, 181–84, 189, 192, 199, 219, 249–51, 257, 273, 274, 293, 313, 314, 323, 328, 331 Euboic Gulf, 182 Eumolpos, 252, 255 Euripides, 21, 320 Eurysakes, 20, 32, 60, 61, 256, 307 Eusebios, 257, 313 Euxine Sea, 33, 60, 227 Execestides, 195, 246 Four Hundred, 325 Frazer, J. G., 176 Frontinus, 53–55, 258, 271 Galepsos, 298 Geometric period, 22, 23, 182 Gephyraioi, 22, 23, 251 geras, 74 ge–ras/ge–raios, 213, 218 gero–n, 213 gne–sios/gne–sioi, 198, 201, 203, 322 gno–rimoi, 74, 85, 276–79. See also Athenians/Athenian, aristocrats/aristocracy Gorgilos, 97, 110, 136, 198, 203, 205, 207–9, 301, 322, 323 graphe–, 72 Greater Panathenaia, 238 Hagnon, 127, 129, 132, 296, 297 Halae Araphenides, 250 Halikarnassos, 9, 242 Halys River, 10 Harmodios, 6, 7, 108, 196, 197, 240, 284, 320 Harpagos, 229 Harpaktides, 4, 210, 216, 217, 324, 325 Hebros River, 223 Hegesias, 216 Hegesistratos, 201, 203, 204, 206, 207, 209, 322–24 Hegestratos, 196 Hekataios, 293 Hellanikos, 73, 271, 312, 326

  Hellenistic period, 176, 178, 193 Hellespont, 227 Helot revolt, 164 Henry (VII) Tudor, king of England, 241 Herakleides, 46, 55, 193–98, 317–19 Herakles, 105, 241, 253, 289, 290 Hereas, 61, 329 Hermes, 319 herms/hermai, 178, 306, 311. See also Hipparchos, son of Peisistratos, herms Herodotos, 2, 3, 8–12, 14–16, 18, 19, 24–31, 46–50, 62, 66–73, 75–78, 81, 82, 84–90, 91–93, 95–102, 105–14, 116, 126, 130, 131, 134–53, 157–60, 165, 183, 190, 193–95, 197, 199, 200, 204, 206–8, 211, 213, 214, 216, 217, 219–21, 227, 228, 230, 239–44, 252, 254, 255, 261, 262, 268, 270, 274, 276, 281, 282, 288–93, 297–99, 301–5, 309, 316, 317, 320, 328, 329, 333 and the Alkmeonidai, 10, 11, 87–89, 100, 105–13, 207, 220, 221, 242–47, 262, 282–85, 289, 291, 292 and Athens, 9 “Debate on Government,” 5, 240 “parties” of Attika and, 66–87 (see also “parties” of Attika) and Peisistratos’ first tyranny, 66–98 and Peisistratos’ Palle– ne– campaign, 131, 134, 136–50, 160, 228 and Peisistratos’ second tyranny, 98–115 and Peisistratos’Thracian sojourn, 116–17, 126, 130, 134, 150 on “rooting” of tyranny and third tyranny, 114, 149, 150, 159, 234, 299 (see also Herodotos, and Peisistratos’ Palle– ne– campaign) Sophokles and, 231, 234, 235, 242 Hesiod, 251 Hesychios, 328 hierosylia, 261, 287

Index Hill 133, 296, 298 Hipparchos ([Plato]), 175, 307 Hipparchos, son of Charmos, 3, 4, 239 Hipparchos, son of Peisistratos, vii, 6, 7, 12, 133, 182, 198, 201, 203, 240, 243, 273, 289, 295, 306, 311, 320, 322, 324, 325 Akademy and, 165, 325 herms, 306, 311, 325 hippeis, 134, 136, 137, 140, 182, 187, 192, 201, 301 Hippias, 1, 3, 11, 12, 62, 88, 93, 116, 117, 121, 144, 152, 157, 159, 174, 182, 198–201, 203, 204, 211, 214, 217, 235, 240, 243, 244, 286, 287, 292–95, 302, 303, 309, 316, 320, 321, 324, 325, 334 Hippokleides, 325 Hippokrates, brother of Peisistratos?, 193 Hippokrates, father of Peisistratos the tyrant, 1, 10, 13, 18, 29, 67, 68, 70, 146, 152, 182, 191, 192, 246, 247, 274, 276, 316, 317 Hippokrates, son of Megakles (II), 152, 153, 305, 307. See also Alkmeonids/Alkmeonidai Hippokrates, son of Peisistratos?, 321 hippotrophos, 301 Histiaios, 126, 127, 129, 131–33, 300 Hollows of Euboia, 182 Homer, 92, 103, 104, 182, 184, 193, 238, 273, 313 horse culture, 181, 182, 192, 312–14, 316 horse sacrifices, 181, 312–14 Hurwit, J., 93 Hymettos, Mount, 13, 312 Hymn to Demeter, 184, 256 hyperakria/hyperakrioi, 18, 27, 48, 67, 68, 71, 81–84, 188, 245, 251, 283, 308, 312. See also diakria/diakrioi hypokorismos, 287 Iliad (Homer), 61, 103, 104, 257, 290, 300 Iokaste, 316 Iolkos, 294, 325 Ion, 110, 306

 Ionia/Ionians, 33, 44, 62, 132, 138, 139, 228–30, 244, 246, 248, 251–53, 257 Iophon, 201, 203, 207, 322, 324 Iphigeneia, 21, 250 Iphikrates, 300 Isagoras, 26, 93, 94, 105, 110, 142, 162, 254, 262, 263, 280, 287, 291, 324 Isodike, 165 Isthmus of Corinth, 31, 249, 328 Italy, 182 Jacoby, F., 72, 172, 219 Jebb, R., 233 Jeffery, L. H., 194 John, king of England, 241 Justin, 53–55, 258, 270 Kalamaria, 329 Kallias (I), son of Phainippos, 284, 315 Kallias (II), son of Hipponikos, 185 Kallimachos, 58 Kallinos, 42, 269, 315 Kapsara, 178 Karabournaki, 328 Kardia (Bakla Burnu), 124, 295 Karia/Karians, 9, 62 Karystos, 314 Kassandros, 223 Kekrops/Kekropia, 172, 308 Kephisia, 308 Kephissian Plain, 29, 155, 186, 254, 267, 328 Kerkenitis, Lake, 129 Khalkedon, 33, 258 Khoriatis, Mount, 223, 329 Kimon (I) koalemos, 4, 163, 181, 275, 295, 314. See also Philaidai/Philaids Kimon (III), son of Miltiades (IV), 15, 110, 128, 164, 165, 167, 201, 306, 307, 321. See also Philaidai/Philaids Kineas, 302 Kipi, 177, 179, 310 Kissos, 222, 223, 227 Kleidemos, 133, 271, 322, 326 Kleisthenes, son of Megakles (II), viii, 3, 4, 11, 80, 88, 152, 172, 239, 265, 277,

 Kleisthenes (continued ) 281, 305, 321. See also Alkmeonids/Alkmeonidai deme arrangement of, 22, 33, 172, 175, 176, 219, 220, 309, 327, 328 Philaïdai and, 172–77 reforms of, viii, 2, 3, 33, 172, 219, 220, 238, 270 and Salamis, 33 Kleisthenes, tyrant of Sikyon, 3, 79, 202, 254, 264, 287, 323 Kleomenes (I), king of Sparta, 41, 62, 63, 93, 110, 239, 262, 263, 265, 272, 273, 286 kle–rouchoi, 32–33, 259 Kodros, 18, 19, 24, 25, 28, 31, 47, 245, 248, 251, 255 Koisyra (I), 134–36, 152, 198, 218, 291, 300, 301, 307, 322 Koisyra (II), 152, 153, 209, 300, 301, 307 Komeas, 66, 89, 213, 274, 327 Kondaion, 302 Kopreza, 247 Koropi, 312 korune–phoroi, 68, 73, 77, 84–86, 92, 95, 96, 157, 241, 277, 282, 283, 287, 290. See also doryphoroi; Peisistratos, son of Hippokrates, bodyguard of kosme–te–s, 321 kothurnoi, 4 Koukounaries, 311 Kratinos, 274 Kritias, 319 Kroisos, 10, 79, 86, 195, 197, 217, 220, 229, 276, 281, 317, 320 Krommyon, 257 Kylon/Kylonian affair, 23–26, 35–45, 64, 65, 75–79, 81, 85, 89, 91–94, 98, 105, 118, 142, 151, 155, 162, 186, 202, 252, 254, 259–68, 278, 280, 282, 286, 287, 323 date of, 261 Kyme, 251 Kyne–getikos (Xenophon), 223 Kypselos/Kypselids (Athens), 312, 317. See also Philaidai/Philaids

  Kypselos/Kypselids (Corinth), 98, 203, 205, 317, 322 Kytheros, 251, 308 Laios, 232, 316 Lakedaimonia/Lakedaimonians, 60, 63, 64. See also Sparta/Spartans Lakiadai, 309, 312 Laphystiai, 222 Lasos, 238 Laurion, 188 Leake,W., 176 Lebet (Lembet?), 294, 329 Lefkandi, 181, 182, 248, 312–14 Lelantine Plain, 313, 314 Lelantine War, 182, 313 “Lemnian Deeds,” 175, 183, 184, 269, 308, 309, 314 Lemnos/Lemnians, 57, 183, 184 Leogoras, 147, 148, 304, 305 Ligori, 247 Lion Gate Bastion (Mycenae), 179 Livy, 223 Lokris, 310 Loutsa, 247, 250 Lydia/Lydian, 10, 183, 281 Lygdamis (Halikarnassos), 242 Lygdamis (Naxos), 136–40, 151, 218, 229, 301, 302, 331 Lykomid/Lykomidai, 165 Lykophron, 222–27, 330 Lykos, 219, 328 Lykourgos, son of Aristolaides, 67, 77, 78, 80, 88, 89, 97–99, 107, 114, 158, 159, 205, 217, 245, 267, 274, 280, 281, 292 “party” of, 67, 78, 219–21, 280, 281 Lysandros, 57 MacDowell, D., 147 Macedonia, 118–22, 222, 223, 227, 293, 294, 330, 331 Malalas, John, 327 Marathon, 3, 4, 11, 57, 58, 88, 138–41, 143, 144, 149, 160, 163, 164, 181, 199, 200, 201, 214, 229, 239, 246,

Index 264, 272, 282, 284, 295, 302, 303, 309, 312, 320 Markellinos, 299 Markopoulo, 176, 177, 180, 247, 312 Mede, 314 Megabazos, 122, 126, 130, 132, 297, 298 Megakles (I), 78, 185, 262, 265, 280. See also Alkmeonids/Alkmeonidai Megakles (II), son of Alkmeon, 9–11, 13, 16, 47, 67, 77, 79, 80, 81, 83, 86–92, 97–99, 101–3, 105–15, 125, 152, 153, 157–59, 187, 189, 194, 198, 201, 202, 204–9, 216–18, 220, 252, 253, 264, 274, 275, 277, 281, 282–92, 305, 323, 324. See also Alkmeonids/ Alkmeonidai daughter of, 10, 13, 15, 97–99, 107–12, 198, 204–9, 217, 218, 275, 281, 288, 289, 291, 323, 324 and genesis of Alkmeonid misotyrannism, 11, 111–13, 208 “party” of, 16, 67, 78–81, 83, 87–89, 113, 152, 219–21, 280–82, 291 (see also Alkmeonids/ Alkmeonidai,“party” of ) Peisistratos and, 10, 11, 14, 15, 16, 47, 48, 77, 80, 83, 86–92, 97–99, 101–3, 105–15, 158, 159, 187, 189, 194, 204–9, 216, 217, 274, 275, 277, 282–86, 288–92, 305 Megakles (IV), son of Hippokrates, 3, 4, 264, 300, 301, 307. See also Alkmeonids/Alkmeonidai Megalo Karabournou, 119, 120, 122, 223, 225, 227, 293, 329 Megara/Megarian, 14, 15, 17, 24–27, 30–64, 66, 85, 89, 90, 155, 178, 183, 185, 186, 189, 200, 202, 215, 217, 219, 220, 252, 253, 255–60, 262–71, 274, 277, 321, 328, 329 war (with Athens), 14, 15, 17, 24, 25, 27–64, 67, 85, 89, 90, 96, 103, 120, 122, 141, 150, 155–57, 160, 183, 185–89, 200, 202, 214, 215, 217, 219, 220, 229, 240, 245, 253,

 255, 256, 258–60, 263, 267–71, 274, 315 Megara Hyblaia, 257 Melanthios, 165 Melanthos, 18, 19, 23–25, 28, 47, 66, 97, 248, 251, 255, 327 Melite, 307 Mende– , 119, 120, 293 Merenda, 250 Mermnads, 79 mesogaia, 48, 59, 60, 149, 180, 219, 247, 250, 312 Messenia/Messenian, 247, 254 Methone, 119, 120, 293 metic, 201 Metiochos, 295 me–troxenoi, 321 Mikro Karabournou, 329 Miletos/Milesian, 24, 44, 125–27, 131, 132, 253, 257, 293, 300 Miltiades (III), half-brother of Kimon koalemos, 123, 181, 312, 317. See also Philaidai/Philaids Miltiades (IV), son of Kimon koalemos, 4, 15, 57, 124, 133, 134, 163, 164, 167, 201, 229, 239, 272, 295. See also Philaidai/Philaids Mimnermos, 326 Minos, 184, 309 mistho–toi, 234, 302 Mityle– ne– /Mitylenaians, 5, 253, 272 Mnesiphilos, 166 Mnestra, 165 Mussolini, Benito, 241 Mycenae/Mycenaeans, 19, 20–23, 27, 28, 94, 175, 179, 181, 182, 246–50, 313 Mygdonia, 122 Myrhinos, 296 Myrkinos, 125–27, 132, 296, 298, 300 Myron, 265 Myrrhina, 57 Myrrhine, 192, 289, 316, 320 Myrrhinous/Myrrhinousians, 22, 171, 250, 308 Myson, 319 Mysteries, Eleusinian, 148, 173

 Naxos/Naxians, 136–39, 141, 151, 218, 229, 230, 301, 302, 331 Nea Mihaniona, 119, 223 Neleids/Neleidai, 18–20, 23–29, 47, 156, 194, 195, 244–47, 251–54, 289, 294, 313 Neleus, 19, 23, 24, 248 Neolithic period, 21, 251, 310 Nestor, 18, 193, 246, 251, 313 Nisaia, 14, 15, 17, 26, 28–30, 33, 34, 36, 41, 46–52, 54–60, 62, 64–67, 89, 97, 114, 155–57, 160, 164, 183, 186, 189, 190, 201, 202, 213–15, 217, 244, 252, 254, 260, 265, 270, 272–74, 320, 328. See also Peisistratos, son of Hippokrates, Nisaia and Nisos, 219, 327, 328 nomothe–te–s/nomothe–sia, 319 nothos/nothoi, 198, 201, 322, 324 Nubes (Clouds) (Aristophanes), 135 Odysseus, 103, 104, 105 Odyssey (Homer), 104, 251 Oedipous, 231–35, 252, 264, 332, 333 Oedipous Tyrannos (Sophokles), 231–35, 252, 264, 332, 333 oikist/oikiste–s, 121, 123, 294, 317 Oisyme, 298 olbos/olbios, 74, 190 Oloros, 295 Olympeion (Temple of Olympian Zeus), 2, 237 Olympia/Olympic, 36–38, 68, 79, 166, 181, 191, 257, 261, 262, 276, 323, 324 Onomakritos, 238 oppidum, 172, 175 Orsippos, 33, 257, 258 Orthagoras, 254 ostraka/ostracism, 135, 264, 284, 317 Otanes, 5 Oxyrhynchos Historian, 243 Ozolian Lokris, 184 Paiania, 98, 99, 248 Painted Stoa (Stoa Poikile–), 272

  Paionia/Paionian, 122, 127, 130, 296 Paktye (Çimpe Kale), 295 Palaio Vraona, 176 Pallas, 219, 328 Palle– ne– (Attika), 5, 10, 11, 13, 15, 16, 18, 58, 59, 68, 70, 80, 81, 111, 114, 117, 130, 133, 136–38, 141–53, 155, 156, 159, 160, 194, 203, 204, 208, 209, 211, 215–18, 228–30, 244, 252, 280, 282, 284, 288, 289, 298, 301–6, 309, 322, 323, 327. See also Peisistratos, son of Hippokrates, Palle– ne– campaign of battle of, 143–50, 216 treachery at, 148–50 Palle– ne– (Chalkidike– ), 119, 120, 227, 294 Panathenaia, 238, 324, 325 Pandion, 219, 220 Pangaion, Mount, region of, 117, 118, 121, 122, 125–28, 130–32, 156, 164, 296, 298, 299 Pan Painter, 311 Papadimitriou, I., 176 parabaite–s, 290 paralia/paraloi, 67, 219, 328, 329 Parnes, 328 Paros/Parian, 4, 128, 163, 164, 167, 295–97, 311 “parties” of Attika, 14, 18, 67–87, 219–21, 276, 277, 280, 281, 327–29 “the beyond-the-hills” (Herodotean), 18, 67, 78, 81–84, 219 (see also diakria/diakrioi; hyperakria/ hyperakrioi) “the plain” (Herodotean), 67, 78, 219 (see also pedion) “the shore” (Herodotean), 67, 78–81, 88, 113, 219 (see also paralia/ paraloi) Pausanias, 172, 259, 265, 273 Pax (Peace) (Aristophanes), 314 pedion, 67, 328, 329 Peiraios, 22, 129, 171, 308 Peisistratids/Peisistratidai Athens’ culture under, 237, 238 background of, 187, 188, 193, 194

Index bodyguards of, 94 (see also Peisistratos, son of Hippokrates, bodyguard of ) cult of Artemis Brauronia and, 22, 173, 187, 250 (see also Artemis, Brauronia) damnatio memoriae of, 6, 93, 174, 286, 325 (see also ste–le– adikias) descent from Neleids of, 18–19, 23–30, 244–47, 249, 252, 254 expulsion from Athens of, 286 fifth-century Athenian attitudes toward, as tyrants, 30, 55, 56, 69, 70, 71, 82, 84–87, 90, 91, 95, 148, 149, 198, 200, 213, 233, 237, 240, 241, 244, 283, 326 fifth-century official/general execration of, 6, 10–12, 28, 50, 70, 82, 86, 95, 149, 155, 174, 198, 200, 244, 274, 275, 288 Homer, and, 61, 238 implication of Persians with, 239 kin of, 3 monuments of, 325 myth and, 18, 19, 23–29, 60, 63, 103, 106, 156, 157, 194, 252, 253, 256, 273, 274, 294 (see also Neleids/ Neleidai; Peisistratos, son of Hippokrates, Neleid origins of, claim to) Philaids and, 295, 312 poets and, 2, 165, 238, 332–34 prosopography of, 191–209, 244, 316 taxation of Athenians by, 96, 97, 185, 288 Peisistratos, archon for 669/68 B.C.E., 193, 194, 251, 317 Peisistratos, son of Hippokrates abode of, as tyrant in Athens, 92–94, 286, 287 (see also Building F) akme–, 214 alienness/“outsider” status of, 17–19, 23, 81, 89, 309, 315, 316, 323 ambition and greed, 17, 29, 30, 66, 153, 154, 156, 185, 187, 189, 190, 192, 197, 315 Athena and, 102–5, 161

 background of, questions pertaining to, 187–90 birth date of, 46, 196, 200, 212, 213, 215, 217, 251, 276, 318 bodyguard of, 14, 47, 68, 72, 73, 81–83, 85, 95, 96, 151, 157, 159, 161, 241, 280, 282, 283, 287, 300 (see also doryphoroi; korune–phoroi; Peisistratids/Peisistratidai, bodyguards of ) chronology of life events of, 210–18 cleverness/deceptiveness/intelligence/ trickery of, 12, 13, 53–56, 67, 68, 77, 82, 84–86, 90, 103–6, 162, 235, 255, 271, 272, 274, 319, 324 coins of last tyranny of (see Wappenmünzen) colonialism and, 64, 117–33, 136, 184, 227, 292–95, 322 (see also under Peisistratos: Eion and; Ennea Hodoi/Amphipolis and; Rhaike– los and; on the Strymon; see also Sigeion;Thracian Chersone– se) as condottiere?, 121–23, 187 conduct of, as tyrant/character of rule, 90–97, 108, 114, 151, 152, 159, 161, 162, 167, 185, 190, 238–40 death circumstances of, 212, 213 death date of, 210–15, 218, 324–26 Delos and, 138, 139, 228–30 de–mos and (see Athenians/Athenian, de–mos [Solonian/Peisistratan]) “divinely designated” for tyranny, 67, 68, 70, 82, 84, 86, 94, 145, 146, 147, 160, 191, 192, 234 (see also Hippokrates, father of Peisistratos the tyrant) Eion and, 127, 128 “election” of, as tyrant, 15, 67, 68, 71, 85, 86, 106, 112, 157 Ennea Hodoi/Amphipolis and, 126–29 Eretrians and, 66, 116–22, 125, 134–40, 143, 156, 159, 160, 183, 184, 199, 224, 225

 Peisistratos, son of Hippokrates (continued) “great deeds” (megala erga) of, during Megarian war, 14, 25, 30, 38, 47–52, 58, 67, 68, 90, 103, 150, 155, 157, 189, 211, 255 home-deme of (see Philaïdai) image of, 15, 188 Lygdamis and (see Lygdamis [Naxos]) Megakles (II) and, 10, 11, 13, 15, 16, 47, 48, 80, 83, 86–92, 97–99, 101–3, 105–15, 152, 158, 159, 189, 194, 204–9, 216–18, 275, 277, 286, 288–91 mines of Mount Pangaion and, 129–31, 156 money and, 15, 16, 65, 118, 119, 124–31, 133, 136, 137, 142, 143, 153, 156–59, 161, 162, 167, 185, 187–89 (see also Athenians/ Athenian, de–mos [Solonian/ Peisistratan], avarice of; chre–mata and its political importance at Athens) Neleid origins of, claims to, 18–29, 60, 61, 103, 156, 157, 175, 183, 187, 192, 194, 244–47, 254, 289 (see also Neleids/Neleidai; Peisistratids/Peisistratidai, myth and) Nisaia and, 14, 15, 17, 26, 28–30, 46–60, 64–67, 89, 97, 114, 155, 156, 160, 164, 183, 186, 189, 190, 201, 202, 213–15, 217, 244, 252, 254, 268, 270, 320 (see also Nisaia) offspring of (see Hegesistratos; Hipparchos, son of Peisistratos; Hippias; Hippokrates, son of Peisistratos?; Iophon;Thessalos) as oikiste–s (in Thrace)?, 121 old age of, 212, 213 Palle– ne– campaign of, 134–49, 152–56, 160, 161, 215 (see also Palle– ne– [Attika]; Palle– ne– [Attika], battle of ) “catalogue” of allies, 134–42, 149, 244, 245 chre–mata and, 142, 143, 152 outcomes of, 150–55, 160, 161

  preliminaries to, 134–38 strategy for, 143–46, 149, 150, 153, 154, 156, 160, 161, 188, 194 “party” of, 14, 48, 67, 71–73, 77, 78, 81–85, 188, 219–21, 274, 275, 280–83, 333 (see also “parties” of Attika) Persians and, 139 as persuasive speaker, 16, 26, 77, 82, 85, 90, 157, 186, 252, 274 philoi of, 48, 58–60, 96, 123–25, 130, 133, 134, 137, 140, 141, 151, 156, 188, 195, 233, 234, 292, 293, 295, 333 Phye and, 77, 98, 99, 100–102, 106, 153, 288–91 (see also Phye/Phye pageant) political vanity of, 153, 154, 188, 190 popularity of, 16, 17, 30, 35, 65–67, 77, 85, 86, 89, 90, 97, 99, 114, 115, 151, 155–57, 162, 189, 280, 283, 305 purification of Delos and, 62, 331 Rhaike– los and, 58, 117–27, 131, 133, 136, 156, 183, 218, 222, 224–26, 329, 330 (see also Rhaike– los) “rooting” of the tyranny of, 10, 16, 114, 117, 154, 156, 159, 234, 299 rule of, 240, 319 Sieben Wiesen (Seven Sages) and, 197, 319 Solon and, 45–46, 60–64, 167, 186, 188–90, 192–98, 244, 268, 270, 273, 274, 276, 318–20 sophia (political savvy) and, 167, 189, 197 sources on the history of tyrannies of, 9–13 (see also Aineias Taktikos; Athenaio–n Politeia [Ath.Pol.]/ author of [AP]; Herodotos; Plutarch;Thucydides) strate–gos/strate–gia in Megarian war, 14, 17, 27, 29–31, 35, 45–60, 64, 67, 85, 89, 96, 122, 150, 155, 156, 167, 186–89, 200, 201, 210, 213–17, 240, 255, 256, 259, 270–72, 318,

Index 321, 327 (see also Megara/ Megarian, war [with Athens]) on the Strymon, 58, 116–19, 121, 123–33, 218, 227 succession to, 211, 212 synopsis of early life, 17 theatricality of, 99–101, 105–7 Thebans and (see Thebes/Thebans) Thracian sojourn of (second exile), 58, 116–34, 136, 137, 150, 156, 159, 216, 243 tyrannical nature of, 316 tyrannies of (Athens) first, 11, 14, 15, 26, 66–98, 203, 204–6, 209, 211, 213, 214, 216, 217, 218 second, 11, 14, 15, 26, 98–115, 216–18 third, 14, 150–54, 159, 217, 218 tyranny of (in Thrace)?, 123 as warrior/war leader, 16, 17, 28, 29, 30, 35, 46–60, 122–25, 132–34, 136, 141–43, 150, 155, 156, 185–87, 200 wives of first: anonyma, 198–203, 217, 320–22 second:Timonassa, 97, 110, 135, 136, 198, 203–9, 217, 322–24 (see also Timonassa) third: daughter of Megakles (II), 10, 11, 13, 15, 99, 107–11, 198, 204–9, 216–18, 323 (see also Megakles [II], daughter of ) fourth: Koisyra (I), 134–36, 198, 209, 218, 291, 300, 301, 322 (see also Koisyra [I]) Peisistratos, son of Nestor, 246, 251 Pelasgians, 183, 184, 314 Peloponnesian War, 12, 56–58, 62, 129, 134, 241, 264, 267, 271, 303 Peloponnesian War, History of (Thucydides), 299 Peloponnesos/Peloponnesian, 20, 139, 248–50, 258, 272 Pelops, 333 pentekontors, 183 Perati, 21, 247–50, 314

 Periandros, 253, 287, 319 Perikles, son of Xanthippos, 9, 11, 15, 110, 166, 167, 201, 242, 264, 285, 303, 307 as “new Peisistratos,” 166, 307 Persians/Persian wars, 4, 6, 9–11, 46, 93, 128, 139–41, 144, 163–65, 174, 210, 229, 230, 239, 286, 298, 302, 303, 313, 314, 325, 326, 331 Petalion Gulf, 182 Phaleron, 30, 35, 59, 155, 186, 258–60, 314 Phanias, 75, 196, 213, 280 Pherekydes, 312 Philaidai/Philaids, 21, 58, 123–25, 181, 185, 245, 246, 288, 295, 300, 309, 312. See also Kimon (I); Kimon (II); Kypselos/Kypselids (Athens); Miltiades (III); Miltiades (IV) Philaïdai (deme), 17, 20–22, 27, 63, 182, 184, 187, 192, 193, 246–50, 307–12, 315, 317 physical character of region, 180, 181, 310–12 site of, 171–79 Philaios, 20, 28, 32, 60, 61, 63, 175, 246–51, 256, 273, 274, 307, 309, 312, 319, 325 Philip (II), king of Macedonia, 129 Philippi, 300 Philochoros, 172, 175, 251, 308–10, 328 Philoneos, 210, 211, 324, 325 Phlya, 165 Phokaia, 229 Photios, 309 Phrynichos, 44, 268 Phrynon, 272 Phye/Phye pageant, 10, 77, 84, 98–107, 112–14, 133, 153, 161, 241, 283, 288–91, 320 Pindar, 238 piracy, 120, 122, 179, 183, 184, 187, 258, 259, 309, 310 Pithekoussai, 313 Pittakos, 5, 189, 253, 272 Plataia/Plataians, 272, 302 Plato, 197, 213, 320

 [Plato], 175, 273, 307 Pliny, 172, 308 Plutarch, 32, 40–42, 45, 46, 60, 61, 63, 72, 73, 75, 110, 165–67, 171, 173, 175, 185, 189, 192, 194, 195, 197, 213, 244, 258, 261, 265–67, 269, 274, 276–79, 283, 287, 293, 306, 315, 318 Poitiers, 252 polemikos/polemikoi, 34, 50 polis Agoraios (Bolayir), 124, 133, 295 Polyainos, 287 Polykrates, 331 Pomponius Mela, 172, 308 Porto Raphti, 247 Porto Raphti Bay, 184 Potamos, 308 Potideia, 224, 294 Poussi Kalogeri, 251 Prasiai, 184, 308, 314 Prasias, Lake, 129, 296 Praxiteles, 308 Prophitis Elias, 297 Propontis/Propontian, 33, 35, 258 prostasia/prostate–s tou de–mou, 80, 118, 158, 276, 281, 282 Protogeometric period, 246 Prytaneion Decree, 70 prytaneis to–n naukraro–n, 262 Pylos/Pylians, 18–21, 23, 24, 26–30, 193, 194, 244, 246–49, 251, 256, 313, 316 Pythian Games, 327 Pythion, 328 Rafina, 247 Raubitschek,A., 147 Rhaike– los, 58, 117–27, 131–33, 136, 140, 155, 183, 218, 222–27, 243, 292–94, 329–31 site of, 119–20, 222–27 Rhamnous, 328 Rhodes, P., 210 Rome/Roman, 172, 176, 178 Sacred War, First, 281 Sacred Way, 312

  Salaminaphetai, 42, 266, 267 Salamis/Salaminian, 14, 20, 31–35, 39, 41–46, 49–52, 54, 57–64, 155, 165, 185, 186, 220, 247, 254–60, 263, 266–70, 272–74, 307, 314, 319, 329, 331 Salamis (poem), 41, 42, 45, 50, 85, 106, 266–68, 276, 279 Samos/Samian, 306, 331 Sandys, J. E., 225 Sappho, 183 Sardis/Sardian, 216, 221 Saronic Gulf, 14, 32, 34, 62, 64, 139, 155 Satrai, 130, 294, 296, 298 Schachermeyr, F., 201 Selymbria, 33, 258 Semnai Theiai, 37, 44 Sextus Julius Africanus, 257 Sicilian disaster, 241 Sicily, 257 Sigeion, 125, 133, 209, 227, 272, 294, 295, 312, 322, 324 Sikyon/Sikyonian, 201 Simonides, 165, 238 Sindos/Sindian, 122, 294 Sinos, R., 100, 103 Sisyphos, 319 Skamandrios, 4 Skapte Hyle, 295, 299 Skione, 293 Skyros, 164, 165, 184 Skythia/Skythians, 298, 300 Sokrates, 197, 289, 327 Solon, vii, viii, 3, 14, 15, 16, 26, 31, 32, 34, 41, 42, 44–46, 50, 51, 54, 60–67, 70–77, 82, 83, 85, 89, 90, 101, 104, 106, 152, 161, 162, 166, 167, 185–87, 217, 246, 252, 254–56, 258, 261, 265–68, 270–74, 276–80, 283, 290, 315, 318, 320, 321, 326 archonship, 45, 196, 318, 319 Athenian politics in the time of (and after), 14, 15, 26, 34, 66–67, 71–78, 82, 83, 85, 89, 90, 106, 155–67, 186 theatricality of, 106

Index deception and, 75–77, 90, 158, 279 de–mos and, 66–67, 73–78, 79–84, 104, 105, 114, 118, 157, 158, 167, 277–83 “madness” of, 41, 85, 185, 265, 266, 276 on old age, 212, 213, 320, 321, 326 Peisistratos and, 45–46, 50, 54, 60–64, 167, 186, 188–90, 192–98, 244, 268, 270, 273, 274, 276, 318–20 Salamis and, 32, 41, 42, 45–46, 50, 60–64, 81, 185, 187, 256, 258, 265–70, 319, 329 Salamis (poem), 41, 42, 45, 50, 85, 106, 266–68, 276, 279 Sieben Weisen (Seven Sages) and, 197, 319 special commission, 45, 46, 75, 158, 196, 278, 280, 318, 319 tyrannical behavior of, 16, 189, 197 warnings about tyranny/aversion to tyranny, 85, 197, 198 Sophokles, 105, 231–35, 264, 320, 327–29, 333 Herodotos and, 231–35, 242 sophos/sophia, 167, 189, 197 Sosikrates, 317 Sounion, 308, 328 Sousa, 132 Southern Italy, 9 Sparta/Spartans, 10, 29, 32, 33, 39, 41, 44, 60, 62–64, 67, 80, 164, 191, 239, 262–64, 267, 268, 271, 272, 281, 286, 287, 302, 316, 328. See also Lakedaimonia/Lakedaimonians Spata, 247, 312 sphage–, 37 Sphakteria, 271 Sphettos, 308 Sphinx (Theban), 232 stadion, 257 Stagira, 331 stasio–tai, 67, 234, 282 stasis/staseis, 20, 41, 43, 71, 75, 83, 104 Stavro, 303 Steiria, 308 ste–le– adikias, of the Peisistratids, 12, 174, 192, 198, 201–3, 213, 310, 316,

 320, 322. See also Peisistratids/ Peisistratidai, damnatio memoriae of Stephanos, 224, 226, 227, 330, 331 Stesimbrotos, 110, 306 Strabo, 61, 63, 122, 126, 172, 270, 296, 308, 313 strate–gia/strate–gos, 147, 270 Strymon River/region, 58, 117–19, 121, 123–34, 136, 140, 142, 156, 164, 218, 227, 295–97, 300, 306 Submycenaean period, 21, 22, 28, 32, 184, 246, 247, 252, 257, 267 Syriskos Painter, 329 Syros, 314 Tanagra, 166 taphoi, 177 teichos/teiche–, 119, 124, 131, 133, 331 Teiresias, 231, 232 Telemachos, 194 Tellos, 255, 256, 259, 260 Teos, 229 Tetrapolis, 308 Thalassocracy Lists, 182, 313 Thales, 327 Thasos/Thasian, 128, 163, 164, 295–98, 306 Theagenes, 34–40, 42, 44, 60, 91, 202, 253, 254, 259–61, 263, 268, 323 date of, 259 Kylon and, 36–40, 42, 44, 202, 261, 263, 323 “nobility,” 259 polemikos (warlike), 35 popularity of, 35 Salamis and, 35, 39, 42–43 slaughter of the flocks of the rich, 34–35, 259 Thebes/Thebans, 137–39, 231–33, 252, 264, 301, 302 Themelis, P., 177 Themistokles, 165, 239, 307, 325 Theognis, 26, 27, 59, 258, 264, 277 Theokles, 257 Theon, 224–27, 330 Theophrastos, 196 theo–ria, 184, 309, 314, 331

 Thermaic Gulf, 117–22, 126, 222, 223, 225, 226, 243, 292, 293, 330, 331 Therme, 223, 224, 225, 294 Theseid, 23 The– seion, 13 Theseus, 23, 26, 31, 32, 165, 252, 255, 306, 307 Thesmophoria, 53 Thespis, 238 Thessalonike– , 119, 223, 225, 294, 329, 330, 331 Thessalos/Thettalos, 198, 201, 203, 302, 317, 322 Thessaly/Thessalian, 121, 245, 294, 302, 325 Thirty Tyrants, 263 Thompson,W. E., 176 Thorikos, 184, 249, 308 Thourioi, 9, 242 Thrace/Thracian, 116, 118, 119, 121–34, 136, 137, 140, 141, 144, 153, 156, 159, 185, 201, 215, 216, 222, 293–300, 303, 312, 329, 330 Thracian Chersone– se, 4, 60, 123–25, 133, 134, 163, 164, 227, 229, 273, 294, 295, 317 Thriasian Plain, 32, 33, 35, 219, 220, 260, 328, 329 Thucydides, vii, 2, 5, 6, 11, 12, 31, 37, 41, 62, 70, 91, 127–29, 132, 154, 166, 184, 185, 198–203, 211–13, 219, 228, 233, 235, 243, 250, 255, 260–62, 265, 270, 282, 295, 297, 299, 309, 310, 315, 316, 320, 322, 326, 333 Thymaitis, 273 Thymoetes, 23, 25, 26

  Timonassa, 97, 98, 110, 135, 136, 198, 202–9, 217, 301, 320, 322–24 Tokes, 124, 134, 140, 296 Toumba (Euboia), 313, 314 Toumba Angellaki, 331 Traill, J., 176 triremes, 265 Troad, 60, 209, 294, 322 Troezen, 314 Trojan War, 20 Troy/Trojans, 61, 290 Turkey/Turkish, 176 Tynnondas, 5, 189 tyrannicides/tyrannicide cult, 6, 7, 108, 112, 240, 243, 276, 284, 320 urbs, 172 Vanderpool, E., 176 Via Egnatia, 120, 129 Viviers, D., 223, 224, 226, 227 Volo, 294 Vourkhadi Bay, 51, 54 Vraona (Vavrona), 176, 310 Wappenmünzen, 131, 143, 188 Wars of the Roses, 241 Whitehead, D., 172, 173, 174 Xanthippos, 166 Xanthos, 23 xenia, 63, 64 Xenophon, 222, 278 xenos/xenoi, 23, 62 Xeropolis, 248, 249, 310, 313, 314 Zeus, 36, 37, 265, 290 Meilichios, 36