The Defense of Attica

The Dema Wall and the Boiotian War of 378-375 B.C.

Mark H. Munn

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESS

Berkeley · Los Angeles · Oxford

© 1993 The Regents of the University of California

[Dedication]

Preferred Citation: Munn, Mark H. The Defense of Attica: The Dema Wall and the Boiotian War of 378-375 B.C. Berekeley: University of California Press, 1993. http://ark.cdlib.org/ark:/13030/ft0q2n99ng/

ABBREVIATIONS

Agora VII J. Perlzweig. Lamps of the Roman Period. The Athenian Agora , VII. Princeton, 1961.

Agora XII B. A. Sparkes and L. Talcott. Black and Plain Pottery of the Sixth, Fifth and Fourth Centuries B.C.The Athenian Agora , XII. Princeton, 1970.

Agora XXII S. I. Rotroff. Hellenistic Pottery, Athenian and Imported Moldmade Bowls. The Athenian Agora , XXII. Princeton, 1982.

Bekker I. Bekker. Platonis Scripta Graece Omnia . Vol. 1. London, 1826.

Corinth IV.ii O. Broneer. Terracotta Lamps. Corinth , IV.ii. Cambridge, Mass., 1934.

Corinth VII.iii G. R. Edwards. Corinthian Hellenistic Pottery. Corinth , VII.iii. Princeton, 1975.

DEMA J. E. Jones, L. H. Sackett, and C. W. J. Eliot. "TO D EMA: A Survey of the Aigaleos-Parnes Wall." ABSA 52 (1957): 152-89.

"Dema House"

J. E. Jones, L. H. Sackett, and A. J. Graham. "The Dema House in Attica." ABSA 57 (1962): 75-114.

Dindorf W. Dindorf. Aristides . 3 vols. Leipzig, 1829.

Dittenberger W. Dittenberger. Sylloge Inscriptionum Graecarum . 3d ed., 4 vols. Leipzig, 1915-24.

Edmonds J. M. Edmonds. The Fragments of Attic Comedy . 2 vols. Leiden, 1957-59.

FGrHist F. Jacoby. Die Fragmente der griechischen Historiker . Berlin and Leiden, 1923-58.

IG Inscriptiones Graecae .

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Karst J. Karst. Die Chronik des Eusebius aus dem armenischen übersetzt . Leipzig, 1911.

Kock T. Kock. Fragments Atticorum Comicorum . 3 vols. Leipzig, 1880-88.

Olynthus VIII D. M. Robinson and J. W. Graham. Excavations at Olynthus . Vol. VIII, The Hellenic House . Baltimore, 1938.

Papers ASCSA

Unpublished Papers of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Blegen Library, Athens.

RE Pauly-Wissowa. Real-Encyclopäclie der classischen Altertums-wissenschaft .

Schultz F. Schultz. Aischinis Orationes . Leipzig, 1865.

SEG Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum .

Tod M. N. Tod. A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions . 2 vols. Oxford, 1946 and 1962.

"Vari House" J. E. Jones, A. J. Graham, and L. H. Sackett. "An Attic Country House Below the Cave of Pan at Vari." ABSA 68 (1973): 355-452.

The titles of periodicals are abbreviated according to the conventions employed by L'Année Philologique . For the abbreviations of rifles of ancient works used here, see the Index of Sources.

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PREFACE

Ancient fortifications are among the most durable monuments of the past. Whether overwhelmed amidst the sprawl of a modern town or city or standing solitary in the open countryside as a witness to past human industry, perhaps no isolated archaeological relic so provokes the historical imagination as a fortress wall. The energy manifestly spent in building it contrasts so sharply with its present uselessness that we are almost compelled to conjure up an image of the circumstances that required its construction. Among historians, topographers, and archaeologists, such flights of fancy sometimes lead to serious studies, as is the case here.

The countryside of Attica is liberally dotted with ancient defensive works and fortifications, including isolated towers and watchposts, rubble enclosures, a barrier wall (the Dema wall), and several substantial garrison forts. Individually or collectively, these remains have inspired numerous articles and several monographs (notably Wrede 1933, Pouilloux 1954, McCredie 1966, Ober 1985a, and Lauter et al. 1989), so that the study of Attic fortifications may legitimately be said to dominate the field of Greek rural fortifications in general. All of this attention to walls and fortifications, some of them well situated in the framework of Athenian history, has had a beneficial effect in that the broad outline of their chronology is by now firmly established. Remains once vaguely described by topographers of the eighteenth or early nineteenth centuries as "Pelasgic" or "Hellenic" can now usually be assigned with confidence to a particular century, and we can, most of the time, recognize the difference between a prehistoric and a Hellenistic rubble fortification. Our historical imaginations, however, impel us to attempt more precise historical associations, but in most instances to do so we must move beyond

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what is demonstrable by purely archaeological criteria into arguments that are founded on historical interpretation.

At this level the field is comparatively open, for the archaeological evidence becomes remarkably pliant in the hands of historians, both in a chronological sense but even more widely in a functional sense. How, in military terms, did fortifications work? Where in the constellation of military, economic, and social considerations were rural fortifications placed by their builders, and in response to what circumstances? Answers to such questions can be, and have been, diverse and sometimes contradictory, since even in a territory as thoroughly studied as classical Attica, the evidence in most cases is so indefinite.

These questions are of fundamental importance to any study that attempts to assess the historical role of rural fortifications. Because of the ubiquity of such remains in the Greek landscape, these questions have still wider implications for studies concerned with the Greek countryside and its relationship to the social and economic structures of Greek states. Studies of that nature have come into their own in recent years (e.g.,. Lohmann 1983 and 1985, Snodgrass 1987, 93-131, Van Andel and Runnels 1987, Osborne 1987, Munn and Munn 1989 and 1990). In order to achieve a more comprehensive interpretation of the archaeological record, such studies will have to incorporate a well-grounded analysis of rural fortifications. Despite the ambiguities noted above, the territory of Attica and the arena of

Athenian history together provide the fullest body of evidence for such an analysis. For both generalized and specific reasons, therefore, Part I of this book begins with a thesis about the nature and function of the most important class of fortification in the Athenian countryside, the garrison forts of Attica.

What do we know of Athenian institutions for the defense of their countryside in the fifth and fourth centuries? What texts address that issue in informative ways? The answers to these questions lie in texts and monuments, most of which cover the range between the time of Perikles and that of Demosthenes. A survey of this evidence and a commentary on the trends in its interpretation that have prevailed over the past century are provided in Part I of this book. The remainder of the work is devoted to illuminating some of the principles delineated in Part I through more precisely focused studies of a specific set of monuments and events that may be associated with the only war of the fourth century before the Macedonian domination in which Attica was invaded, the Boiotian War of 378-375 B.C.

Part II is a study of a unique Athenian fortification, the Dema wall, which bars a key pass into the plain of Athens. No ancient authority mentions this wall, but archaeological evidence, including a small excavation, and historical considerations demonstrate its role in the land war

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fought in 378-375 by the Athenians and their Theban allies against Sparta. The understanding of the Dema wall established in Part II provides a new perspective on the strategic planning that affected Athenian involvement in the Boiotian War. This new insight is sufficient to justify a reinterpretation of the development and course of the land war of 378-375, and this is provided in Part III. Finally, the themes of Part I are reprised in a Postscript that relates the experiences of the Boiotian War to the development of Athenian institutions of territorial defense later in the fourth century.

Neither the Boiotian War nor the Dema wall is by itself a subject whose importance is widely recognized. While I hope that both subjects benefit in this respect from their exposition here, my greater object is to make them a case study that will illuminate the nature and historical role of the fortifications of classical Attica and, by example, some of the dominant characteristics of rural fortifications in the ancient world generally.

The importance of close observation and exacting judgment in the interpretation of archaeological remains was masterfully demonstrated to me by Colin Edmonson, who first introduced me to the Dema wall when I was his student at the American School of Classical Studies at Athens in 1977-78. If the present work is judged to be a positive contribution in any of the respects touched on above, no small share of the credit is due to Colin's influence. With support from Colin, with encouragement from J. Ellis Jones, who had previously studied the wall, and with permission from Vasileios Petrakos, Ephor of Antiquities of Attica, in the winter and spring of 1977-78 I began a study of Attic territorial defenses that later, under the thoughtful guidance of A. John Graham, became my dissertation (1983) and that I am still continuing beyond the scope of this book.

Excavation at the Dema tower was carried out between October 14 and November 21, 1979, under the authority of Vasileios Petrakos, Ephor of Antiquities of the 2nd Ephoreia, Attica. Heleni Konsolaki, Heleni Papastavrou, and Iphigeneia Dekoulakou assisted the project in many ways, both in the field and in the Peiraieus

Museum, where the finds have been stored. Funding was provided by grants from the University Museum of the University of Pennsylvania, under the directorship of Martin Biddle, and by the American School of Classical Studies at Athens, under the directorship of Henry R. Immerwahr. Excavation was aided by volunteers from the American School of Classical Studies: Murray McClellan, William Murray, Suzanne Peterson, and Randy Strunk; and, through the generosity of Harry Carroll, by volunteers from the College Year in Athens Program: Jonathan Aretakis, Pavlos Dakopoulos, Peter Friedman, Tom Kornfeld, Mark Miner, John Sideek, and Tim Womack. John Camp, then Assistant Director of the Athenian Agora Excavations,

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provided tools and other practical assistance. Fred Cooper, assisted by Brian Madigan, carried out the survey of the site upon which map 3 is based. My father, Robert Munn, produced most of the photographs, and Abbie Camp drew most of the finds. John Camp, G. Roger Edwards, Virginia Grace, and Charles Williams all provided helpful advice in the original study of the finds. Alison Adams has since then allowed me to consult comparative material which she is studying at the Athenian Agora. J. Ellis Jones allowed me to republish the Dema wall saltcellar, and T. Leslie Shear, Jr., gave permission for the publication of the comparative material from the Athenian Agora in appendix I. Eugene Vanderpool provided information and encouragement helpful to the early stages of my research.

Many more have provided advice, encouragement, and assistance as this work has developed over the span of a decade. Foremost among these is my wife, Mary Lou Zimmerman Munn, who has made immeasurable contributions to every step and stage of fieldwork and writing. Her patience and fortitude, and her observant eye and sound judgment, have sustained and aided me throughout. Michael Jameson has also been a valued source of advice at decisive points along the way. In addition to these two, the writing of this book has benefited most from the advice of J. K. Anderson, Kenneth Dover, A. John Graham, Antony Raubitschek, and the anonymous readers consulted by the University of California Press. Any disagreeable idiosyncrasies or lapses that remain are mere vestiges of the faults that these readers have corrected. Michael De Vinne performed a Herculean labor in checking all references in the penultimate version of the manuscript. Marian McAllister and members of the Publications Committee of the American School of Classical Studies gave encouragement at an early stage of this work. Mary Lamprech and Margaret Denny of the University of California Press have patiently guided it through its final stages. Fellowship support enabling writing and fieldwork at an intermediate stage was provided by the American Council of Learned Societies and by the Pew Memorial Trust. Support for the production of the illustrations has been provided by the Department of Classics at Stanford. To all I express my sincere thanks.

M. H. MUNNSTANFORD, NOVEMBER 1991

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PART ONEINTRODUCTION

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OneThe Study of Attic Fortifications

The Nature of The Evidence and the Nature of the ProblemIn a lesson on generalship, Sokrates quizzes the younger Perikles on his knowledge of subjects that should be familiar to him: "Well, have you considered this, Perikles, that great mountains reaching Boiotia protect our country, through which the passes are narrow and steep, and that the interior of our country is divided by sheer mountains?" The point is conceded by Perikles, and Sokrates goes on: "Don't you think, then, that young Athenians armed with light weapons and occupying the mountains that protect our country could do injury to our enemies while providing a strong bulwark of defense to our citizens in the countryside?" (Xenophon Memorabilia 3.5.25-27). Elsewhere in the same dialogue, the young Glaukon, hopeful of becoming a leading statesman, is embarrassed when Sokrates shows him to have no real understanding of the importance of watchposts and the relative strengths of their garrisons in the countryside (3.6.10-11). Clearly, according to Sokrates (or, more properly to Xenophon, the author of these passages), such subjects should be thoroughly familiar to generals and statesmen alike.

Similar advice is given by Aristotle. Ideally, the territory of a state should be formed so that it is difficult for enemies to invade yet easy for its inhabitants to set forth from. It should also be easy to keep under surveillance (

[Full Size]), for a territory that is easily watched is easily defended. With all of these objects in mind, the advice of professional military men (

[Full Size]) should be consulted (Politics 1326b-1327a). Yet not just generals, but anyone who would take an active role as an orator in directing the affairs of state, must be familiar with the lay of the land and the positions and respective strengths of watchposts in the countryside (Rhetoric 1360a). Aristotle's advice, and

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that of Xenophon as well, is not merely expository but derives from contemporary experience; for in their days the Athenians charged one of their ten annually elected generals with the defense of the countryside (

[Full Size]) and required that issues concerned with the defense of the countryside (

[Full Size]) be introduced for discussion in each of the ten annual mandatory meetings of the assembly (

[Full Size]).[1]

From the middle decades of the fourth century onward, when our evidence (including the foregoing passages) becomes abundant, territorial defense emerges as an institutionalized concern of the highest order among the Athenians. Its importance in the

[Full Size]ranked along with discussion of the grain supply.[2] Athenian youths, the ephebes, upon enrollment and verification of their citizenship following their eighteenth birthday, entered a two-year course of military training that included garrison duty in Peiraieus and in the fortresses of the countryside.[3] The defense of Attica was, in a literal sense, the first duty of all Athenian citizens, and it was a recurrent issue in public debates.

At a certain level, such responsibility of citizens for the defense of the territory of their state was, and is, axiomatic and is therefore unremarkable. But when viewed in their historical context, the institutions of territorial defense attested among the Athenians of the fourth century do seem remarkably developed, especially by contrast with earlier practices as they may be deduced from the experiences of the fifth century.[4] Reviewing the conditions of warfare in Greece on the eve of the Peloponnesian War, when Attica would experience the fire and ax of Peloponnesian invaders, A. W. Gomme was compelled to ask, "Why were not the

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strategy and the tactics of mountain warfare by light-armed troops developed in order to prevent the invasion reaching the plains?"[5] Xenophon, in the passage from theMemorabilia quoted above, seems to have anticipated Gomme's querying observation, and the Athenians of his day appear to have adopted measures to render Attica less vulnerable than it had been in the days of Perikles. But what, we

must ask, was the full nature of those measures, and more important, what concrete effects did they have on the conduct of war and diplomacy by Athens in the fourth century?

Such questions should be easily resolved by a review of the abundant literary and epigraphic sources for Athens in the fourth century. Yet the answers are surprisingly elusive. Despite a great many texts that describe aspects of, or refer in passing to, the institutions of territorial defense, we have no ancient account that explicitly and comprehensively presents the methods and goals or general effects of the Athenian

[Full Size]

[Full Size]Our sources take much for granted, and the gulf between us and them should not be underestimated. What we lack, most of all, are not facts about the deployment and armaments of men but an appreciation of what men and their armaments were meant to do.

Despite the absence of precise statistics, we are reasonably well informed about the normal deployment and armaments of men in defense of the countryside. Armaments, discussed in chapters 2, 4, and 5, are standard and, broadly speaking, predictable. Deployment, on the other hand, depends entirely upon local conditions and circumstances. Here the principal source of evidence is the archaeological remains of fortifications found throughout Attica. Defense is an art of waiting and watching and of making preparations in advance of the enemy. Since an attacker generally commands greater numbers and chooses the moment, an essential feature of the defender's routine preparation is the construction of fortifications to assure that those watching and waiting will be secure when the attack occurs. The mass, extent, and elaboration of various works of fortification are gross indicators of their relative importance in terms of what they protected and roughly determine the numbers of men committed to them under normal circumstances. By these indicators, the fortifications of the Athens-Peiraieus complex, some 29.5 kilometers of walls, demonstrate the vastly preponderant defensive importance of this urban complex over that of the garrison forts, none of which is even a twentieth the size of the Athens-Peiraieus complex.[6]

Outside of Athens and Peiraieus, the garrison forts of Attica dominated the defensive priorities of the Athenians. The locations of these

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[Full Size]

Map 1.Attica, classical and Hellenistic forts and garrisons

forts establish the pattern of routine deployment of men engaged in the defense of the countryside. Patrols, the peripoloi , regularly made their way cross-country between these garrisons.[7] Smaller outposts and lookout stations were sometimes manned in addition to the major garrisons, but the garrisons of the permanent forts of Attica represented the chief commitment of manpower and resources in the

[Full Size]. The remains of these forts are therefore primary evidence in the process of recovering the defensive priorities and activities of the Athenians. For an appraisal of the issues of concern here, a brief survey of the classical garrison forts of Attica is in order.

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Eleusis was the largest and clearly the most important of the Attic garrison forts. Lying close to the Megarian frontier, Eleusis was already substantially fortified in the late sixth century, and its circuit was rebuilt and enlarged in both the fifth and the fourth centuries, when it reached a perimeter of 1.35 kilometers (see figure 1).[8] Eleusis was a regular assembly point for expeditionary forces bound both for Boiotia and the Peloponnese (e.g., Thucydides 4.68.5, Xenophon Hellenika 7.5.15, Demosthenes On the Crown177, 184). When, in the fourth century, war threatened Attica by land, Eleusis was likely to have been the regular headquarters of the general in charge of the countryside (

[Full Size]

[Full Size]). By the third century this was certainly the case, for the dudes of the

[Full Size]were then divided between a coastal command (

[Full Size]) and a frontier command, designated as

[Full Size].[9]

Dependent upon Eleusis in the command structure of the third century, Panakton (with a circuit of 480 meters) was the most important garrison fort on the northwestern frontier. This fortress overlooking the Skourta plain, a mountain-bound plateau between Parnes and Kithairon, was built in the mid fifth century, and although partially destroyed during the Peloponnesian War (Thucydides 5.3.5, 39.3), it was rebuilt and garrisoned more or less continuously for almost two centuries (figure 2). When, in the 340s, tensions were high along the much-disputed frontier with Boiotia, Panakton was the headquarters of a general, certainly the

[Full Size], and the base for an expanded citizen levy called out to guard the frontier (Demosthenes On the Embassy 326, Against Konon 3-5).[10]

Near to Panakton, and possibly even older, the fortress at the deme of Oinoe (with a circuit of approximately 560 meters) was an important garrison post also on the northwestern frontier (Thucydides 2.18.2; cf.

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Herodotos 5.74.2). Oinoe lay in another upland plain below Kithairon, along the main ancient road from Athens and Eleusis to Thebes (figure 3). The fortress was garrisoned by the Athenians during the Peloponnesian War, but like Panakton, it fell to the Boiotians (Thucydides 8.98). Literary and epigraphic sources are strangely silent about Oinoe thereafter, but it is likely to have had a history very much like that of Panakton. It certainly returned to Athenian hands not long after the

Peloponnesian War, and its walls show clear evidence of substantial rebuilding, probably within the fourth century.[11]

Further to the west, near, or even within, Boiotia itself was Eleutherai. An Athenian dependency since the late sixth century, Eleutherai was not fortified until the fourth century.[12] The impressive and well-preserved walls of this fortress (a circuit of 860 meters), standing above the ancient (and modern) road to Thebes as it enters the Kithairon pass, have seemed to many to be the perfect embodiment of the defensive planning of the fourth-century Athenians (figure 4). Ironically, as with Oinoe, we know nothing of the history of this fortress in the fourth century. The obscurity of the fortress at Eleutherai has led some to doubt the identity of these remains (sometimes referred to by their modern name, Gyphtokastro) as Eleutherai and caused them to place here the name of one or another of the better-known forts of Attica. In the early nineteenth century, when the fourth-century date of its walls was not yet clearly established, Leake championed the view that this was Oinoe, besieged by Archidamos at the beginning of the Peloponnesian War.[13] By the early twentieth century, Beloch developed the view, still held by some, that this fortress was Panakton, whose long use by the Athenians is well attested.[14] When the urge to identify imposing walls with a well-known

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fortress is set aside, the evidence unambiguously indicates that this fortress bore the name of Eleutherai.[15] Pausanias, who traveled this road from Attica to Boiotia in the second century A.D ., explicitly refers to the fortress of Eleutherai standing a little above the plain, in Kithairon, on the road to Boiotia (1.38.9; cf. 9.2.3). The walls of abandoned Eleutherai clearly impressed him as they have modern travelers, for they are the only fortifications he mentions in the Attic countryside.

Southeast of Panakton, within the folds of Mount Parries, lay the fortress at Phyle (figure 5). The way through Phyle from Thebes to Athens was made famous by the march of Thrasyboulos at the end of the fifth century. The natural stronghold (

[Full Size], Xenophon Hellenika 2.4.2) occupied by Thrasyboulos and his men might have been the site of the later fortress, although it could just as well have been another of the many naturally defensible eminences in the area. It is certain, at any rate, that the small but well-built fortress at Phyle (perimeter of 260 meters) did not yet exist in his day but was a product of Athenian concerns for territorial defense sometime in the fourth century.[16]

Between Parnes and the coast of the Euripos facing Euboia, the town of Oropos provided a stronghold for the Athenians whenever Oropos was controlled by Athens.[17]Otherwise, by contrast with the northwest, the fortifications of this portion of the frontier with Boiotia seem slight. Only at Aphidna, where the prominent hill now known as Kotroni preserves slight remains of an ancient circuit wall (perimeter approximately 300 meters), is there evidence of an Athenian garrison post, although

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good evidence is lacking for the date of this fort (figure 6).[18] Remains at Dekeleia, Katsimidi, and Ayia Paraskevi have been identified as Athenian forts, but for various reasons none of these identifications is plausible.[19]

The only other regular garrison post on this frontier lay well to the east at Rhamnous, on the northeastern coast of Attica (figure 7). The acropolis of this deme was fortified at least by the time of the Peloponnesian War, when it must have been one of the coastal garrisons main-rained by the Athenians during the period of the Spartan occupation of Dekeleia. The fortress at Rhamnous was substantially enlarged in the fourth century (to a perimeter of 940 meters), and its importance as a garrison post endured well into the Hellenistic era, as attested by the numerous garrison decrees that have been found there.[20]

The coastal fortress at Sounion (perimeter 790 meters) had a history similar to that at Rhamnous. Its establishment in the time of the Dekeleian War is attested by Thucydides (8.4), and like Rhamnous, it remained an important garrison post well into the Hellenistic era (figure 8). In both cases, the close connection between these fortresses and vital roadsteads on the sea lanes serving Athens accounts for the importance of these places.[21] Similarly, a maritime fort was established on the

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Ayios Nikolaos peninsula at Thorikos (perimeter 850 meters) a little to the northeast of Sounion during the Dekeleian War (Xenophon Hellenika 1.2.1).[22] The use of this and another fort at Anaphlystos northwest of Sounion is noted briefly by Xenophon in the middle of the fourth century (Poroi 4.43). While perhaps not all of these maritime fortresses were continuously garrisoned in the fourth century, they would have been manned when war threatened the Attic seaboard. Likewise in the Hellenistic era, the maritime forts at Koroni, Vouliagmeni, and Kynosoura at Marathon played important roles in particular episodes, although these and certain other fortifications in Attica were more ephemeral in nature and not part of the garrison system of the fourth century.[23]

Other works of fortification, both enduring and ephemeral, were part of the defenses of Attica in the fourth century. The most remarkable of these is the barrier wall in the Aigaleos-Parnes gap, which is known by its modern Greek name, the Dema (

[Full Size], "the link"), since it joins Aigaleos to Parnes (see figure 9). The ancient name of this wall (if it was not also

[Full Size], or

[Full Size]) is unknown to us, and the occasion of its construction is unrecorded in any extant sources. Although study within the past generation has considerably narrowed the range of speculation about its date, its uniqueness has given rise to wide-ranging speculation on the subject. Robert Scranton described it as "the most ancient known extant example of the art of fortification as practiced by the Classical Greeks."[24] His advocacy of a date in the eighth or seventh century, in the belief that it was a frontier defense of Athens against an independent Eleusis, was consonant with the opinions of many scholars in the first half of this century who felt that this peculiar work must predate the era of the Attic garrison forts of the fifth and fourth centuries.[25] Yet, for various reasons, the high antiquity of this wall did not seem supportable to others familiar with the arts of classical Greek fortification, and consequently, a great variety of dates and occasions have been suggested for the wall, ranging from Kleomenes' invasion of Attica in 506 to the time

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of the Gallic invasion of Greece in the early third century.[26] The wall has also captured the imagination of those who live near it, who speak of it as a work of Theodoros Kolokotronis during the modern Greek War of Independence. As will emerge later in this work, there is more to this unstudied claim than patriotic boasting.

For those who have seen it, the Dema wall demands an explanation. It is a monumental work, "as ambitious a project, in its way, as the Long Walls," according to Scranton.[27] After walking its length (4.36 kilometers overall) and coming to appreciate the care in planning and workmanship that went into the wall, one is inclined to agree with Scranton on that point. Yet since no ancient reference to it survives, its place in history remains unknown, and we are unable to appreciate the conditions, the motives, and the means that brought it into existence, nor can we appreciate its effectiveness once it was built. Historians of Greek military architecture have noticed the Dema for the many peculiarities in its design, but otherwise it has remained historically insignificant by force of its obscurity.

That the Dema wall belongs to the era of the classical garrison forts of Attica was established by the fundamental study by J. E. Jones, L. H. Sackett, and C. W. J. Eliot, published in 1957. After a careful survey of the archaeological and historical evidence, they concluded that it was built within the fourth century, and they advanced 337 as the most probable date for its construction.[28] James McCredie, in his study of military camps in Attica published in 1966, suggested that the Dema wall could instead be associated with the Chremonidean War of 268-262.[29] These

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two studies have provided the foundations for the common view of the Dema wall, which is summarized by C. W. J. Eliot in his article "Dema Pass," in The Princeton Encyclopedia of Classical Sites (1976):The date of the Dema's construction cannot as yet be determined with any precision. What little evidence there is might seem to favor a date in the second half of the 4th c., but a date in the first half of the 3d must also be considered a possibility . . .. Without new evidence a choice between this or that event is probably unjustified.

Since the evidence indicates that the Dema wall belongs to a well-documented period of Greek history, there is no reason to believe that the event which occasioned this monumental undertaking is unknown to us. Rather, as Eliot observes, the evidence has seemed ambiguous as to which event it was. The arguments that have so far been advanced in favor of one event or another have by no means exhausted the historical possibilities, so it is possible to introduce a good deal of circumstantial evidence not previously considered, as well as new evidence of a more tangible sort. The site of the Dema tower, adjacent to the wall and demonstrably part of the same defensive scheme, has now been excavated, and finds there provide significant evidence for the date of the Dema wall. There is reason, therefore, to believe that a thorough review of the available evidence, both new and old, can in fact establish the place of the Dema wall in Athenian history.

Why is it important to do so? The Dema wall is a barrier wall, designed to close a pass against an invader. Unlike the circuit walls of garrison forts, it was not a regular post for a garrison. It was not, in other words, part of the routine defensive establishment of Attica represented by the garrison forts. It had some other purpose in the scheme of the

[Full Size]

[Full Size]. Like the proverbial exception that proves the rule, the Dema wall holds the promise of illustrating, when it is properly understood, the purpose and functional limitations of its more numerous contemporary works of fortification, the garrison forts of

Attica. Only then can we comment on the relationship between territorial defense and the conduct of war and diplomacy by the fourth-century Athenians.

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The fundamental difference between a defensive barrier like the Dema wall and circuit walls, whether of the city or of forts in the countryside, is emphasized in a comment by Plato, writing, in the Laws , close to the middle of the fourth century. Speaking of his ideally constituted state, which shares certain features with Sparta but many more with Plato's own Athens, Plato's Athenian remarks:Concerning [city] walls, Megillos, I am of the same mind as Sparta. I would let walls sleep in the ground and not wake them, for these reasons. First of all, as the poet's verse so aptly puts it, walls ought to be of bronze and iron, and not of stone. Secondly, our practice would be justly ridiculed when each year we sent out our young men into the countryside to block an enemy's path by ditches, entrenchments, and various constructions, all in order to keep the foe from crossing our borders, while at the same time we surrounded ourselves with a wall, which . . . invites the inhabitants to seek refuge within it, and not to ward off the enemy.[30]

By "various constructions" (

[Full Size]), Plato refers to barrier walls like the Dema, although he carefully avoids calling them "walls" (

[Full Size]) because this is the usual term for the circuit wall of the city, whose employment he eschews. The important point here is the opposition clearly drawn between the effects of barriers in the countryside and circuit walls. To Plato, barrier walls and entrenchments are emblems of a laudable determination to resist an enemy in the open, while circuit walls pander to the craven instinct to fly for shelter in the face of an enemy. Plato is specifically discussing the circuit wall of the city, but here, as in every other instance in Greek literature where the defense of the city is contrasted with the defense of the countryside, the circuit walls of garrison forts do not form a separate, third category in the operations of the

[Full Size]. Forts are commonly referred to as

[Full Size],"walls," and as such they are clearly classified with city circuits in this dichotomy.[31]

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Here we have a paradox. For the evidence we have considered indicates that the garrison forts of Attica were the most important elements of the institutions of territorial defense, yet at the same time they are functionally never distinguished from the walls of the city; and reliance on city walls means, in some sense, that territorial defense has been abandoned. This was in fact the case in Attica during the Peloponnesian War. For then the Athenians, under the leadership of Perikles, evacuated the Attic countryside and withdrew to the walls of the Athens-Peiraieus complex during enemy invasions and occupations of Attica, while keeping their fortresses in the countryside fully garrisoned. The Athenian cavalry, meanwhile, bravely skirmished with the overwhelming forces of the Peloponnesian army in an effort to limit their depredations, but no one could say that the Athenians were fully committed to the defense of their countryside.[32] What was

[Full Size]and did the Athenians of the fourth century construe it differently from Perikles?

The Dema wall is one clue leading toward the resolution of this paradox. But before we turn to a detailed examination of that wall and its function, we require a fuller understanding of the use of the garrison forts of Attica than that provided by the brief survey of forts and their chief testimonia above. We may usefully begin by considering modern views on the subject. Not that we will thereby find the matter readily clarified, for as will emerge, most modern treatments of the subject have introduced suppositions about the functions of fortifications that are not reflected in our ancient sources. We must inquire, therefore, as we follow the evidence, whether such modern interpretations are justified or whether our sources indicate some other interpretation that has not yet been generally apprehended.

Closing the Gates of Attica?A salient characteristic of the fortresses of Attica is the fact that they came into existence at various times. Several already existed before the Peloponnesian War, a few were built during it, and a few were built after

― 16 ―

that war. It is possible to explain this proliferation of fortresses as the evolution of a homogeneous system, the objectives and functions of which were essentially the same at the end of the classical era as they had been at its beginning. If this was the case, then the functions of these fortifications must be equally intelligible early on, when there were few fortresses in the Attic countryside, and later, when they were more numerous. Modern investigators, however, have often explained the origins of the fortifications of Attica in terms of their ultimate dispositions, when, to all appearances, these fortresses guarded all of the important routes and passes crossing the land frontier of Attica. Such an explanation involves the awkward assumption that the earliest garrison forts of Attica were built as elements of a system of frontier defense that did not become comprehensive until the final generation of fortresses was built more than a century later.

The introduction to Lilian Chandler's 1926 article on the northwest frontier of Attica embraces such an assumption:Of all states in ancient Greece, Attica seems to have had the most interesting and complete system of land defences. A chain of important fortresses, of most of which there are still considerable remains, follows the line of the Kithairon-Parnes range: Eleutherai, Oinoe, Panakton, Phyle, Dekeleia, Aphidna and Rhamnous. It may appear at first that this series of strongholds was designed expressly to mark off Athenian territory, but whilst incidentally and in large measure they served this end, in origin they were intended rather to defend the various roads from Attica into Boeotia.[33]

The assertion that forts were intended to defend roads is a modern deduction, supported by no ancient authority. Yet the seemingly systematic arrangement of forts along the roads leading into Attica is, to many observers, evidence enough that defense of roads and passes was not only the ultimate, but, as Chandler stresses, the original, purpose of these fortifications. Chandler was not the first to reach this conclusion. The system evident in the fortifications of Attica that Chandler goes on to describe had been outlined more than thirty years earlier by a Prussian military cartographer, Captain Winterberger, who had surveyed portions of the northwestern frontier of Attica for Curtius and Kaupert's Karten yon Attika . Winterberger's summary description of a "planmässiges System der Grenzvertheidigung" was reflected in Arthur Milch-hoefer's extensive commentary on the Karten yon Attika , which in turn provided the basis for Chandler's survey of the subject in English.[34]

― 17 ―

Winterberger's description was itself the logical outgrowth of observations previously made at the beginning of the nineteenth century by Colonel (then Captain) William Leake in his influential work on Attic topography. Leake, whose classical studies were pursued while gathering military intelligence in Turkish Greece, was sufficiently impressed by the disposition of Attic border forts along the passes to Boiotia that he was ready to suppose the existence of remains of further forts completing the system where none actually existed. So, for example, he associates the classical place-name Melainai with medieval remains around the Byzantine monastery of Hosios Meletios on the southern slopes of Kithairon-Pastra, and he speaks of the place "as a castle on the frontier, for this situation would exactly serve to complete a chain of fortresses defending the passes of the Attic mountains towards Boeotia, of which the other links were Oenoë, Harma, Phyle, Deceleia and Sphendale."[35] George Finlay, a British philhellene, historian, and contemporary of Leake, turned classical topography to modern strategy in his history of the Greek War of Independence

when he wrote that the Greeks might have cut off the Turks besieging Athens in 1826-27 "by a line of posts, extending from Megara to Eleutherae, Phyle, Deceleia, and Rhamnus."[36] It seems beyond a doubt that considerations of contemporary military strategy had a profound influence on the interpretation of Attic fortifications by nineteenth-century classicists.

Although the thesis that the Attic forts were intended to guard, or in some sense, to control, the roads leading into Attica has not been universally accepted, it has remained the most influential explanation of their purpose.[37] So, for instance, in his study of Greek fortifications published in 1971, F. E. Winter states:In Attica the fortresses of Phyle and Gyphtokastro [Eleutherai] are both in a position to exercise complete control over their respective passes. Only a large army would have any chance of capturing them by direct assault, and then only at the cost of heavy casualties. Yet even the largest army

― 18 ―could ill afford to pass them by, leaving them free to harry its rear and sever its lines of communication.[38]

If complete control of passes were in fact the object of Attic garrison forts, this goal could not have been achieved until the fourth century, since they manifestly failed to control passes during the Peloponnesian War. A superficial view of the evidence makes this interpretation seem plausible, since it was only after the Peloponnesian War that the Attic border fort system achieved its most complete form, with the addition of the two fortresses named above; and between the Peloponnesian War and the beginning of Macedonian domination in 322 Attica was invaded only once, by the Spartans under Sphodrias at the beginning of the Boiotian War in 378. Whether or not the Attic border forts were from the first intended to guard roads, as Chandler and others have claimed, a circumstantial case can thus be made that this was their function in the fourth century.

A closer look at the sources, however, raises suspicions about the cogency of such circumstantial evidence. For instance, according to Plato's priorities for defensive works,

[Full Size]

[Full Size](Laws 778e), garrison forts would deserve special mention alongside, or even before, barrier walls if they had served this purpose in the fourth century. Had Plato's prejudices against circuit walls so completely blinded him to their usefulness? Or was he merely ignorant of recent innovations in the arts of defense? Before these questions can be answered, we must consider whether such an explanation of the Attic garrison forts is inherently plausible.

We can readily take the first step in this process by reviewing the most thorough exposition of this approach to Attic fortifications, presented by Josiah Ober in his thesis, published as Fortress Attica in 1985. According to Ober, in the fourth century the border forts of Attica were employed, for the first time, as elements in a system of preclusive frontier defense based on the control of all major routes into Attica. The forts enabled the Athenians to maintain troops on the frontiers of Attica year-round, so that, in the event of an invasion, they could harass and detain the enemy until the arrival of the main force from Athens, promptly summoned by

signals via appropriately placed signal towers.[39] Ober schematizes the operation of the system in the following terms:Even if the enemy forces had succeeded in forcing the pass, until they had taken the fortress that guarded it they would not be able to advance into Attica, since they could hardly afford to leave a significant garrison intact

― 19 ―which could attack their baggage train as it marched past. Furthermore, the fortress threatened the enemy line of retreat; if the invasion should fail, the possibility arose of being trapped between the main Athenian army and the garrison. The invading army would have to turn aside and attempt to reduce the fort before proceeding. The relief forces from Athens were therefore granted as much time as it would take the enemy to capture the fortress . . . . [The relief forces] would then proceed to attack the invaders at or near the fortress . . . in the borderlands. Attica and its vital economic resources would therefore be protected.[40]

Here we must note again the absence of any textual support for such an interpretation of garrison forts. No fortified circuit held by a regular garrison is ever said to have been an obstacle to an invading army. There were many occasions when bodies of troops were posted at passes to prevent the passage of enemy forces, but in all cases these were extraordinary forces assembled ad hoc. Never is the presence or absence of a garrison fort circuit said to affect the defensibility of a route, and never was a perennial garrison, a regular element of the

[Full Size], in Attica or elsewhere expected to prevent or delay the general invasion of a region.[41]

The archaeological evidence likewise provides no support for this interpretation, for garrison forts were situated according to criteria other than the defense of passes. The first criterion was the natural defensibility of the location of the fort itself; it ought to be a strong place (

[Full Size]

[Full Size], or

[Full Size]), well suited by nature to be difficult to seize by assault. The second criterion, which often actually had priority over the first, was inhabitability, as determined chiefly by the availability of water.[42] A location that met these criteria was often attractive for civilian habitation as well, and so garrison forts were frequently situated on or immediately adjacent to civilian settlements (as at Eleusis, Rhamnous, Aphidna, Oinoe, and Eleutherai). Garrison forts and their associated settlements were of course served by roads, but the placement of forts with reference to roads was secondary to the above criteria. As to actual passes or strategic narrows along roads, only one fortress stood in close proximity to a pass on the Attic land frontier (pace Winter above), and that was Eleutherai. Yet not even the fortress at Eleutherai (nor any garrison fort elsewhere in Greece, to my knowledge) physically obstructed passage along a major route.

― 20 ―

No one denies, therefore, that an invading army could walk right past a fort, whether its garrison was confined within it or was partly out skirmishing on the mountainsides. In either event, a numerically insignificant garrison force could do little more than momentarily annoy a passing army.[43] Therefore, in order for forts to have had their preclusive effect, they must, it is argued, have compelled the invader to stop and attack them.

This is the heart of the thesis on the fourth-century approach to the defense of Attica as recognized by Winter and elaborated by Ober. It depended absolutely upon an invading commander's decision to stop and attack a fort before proceeding. The defenders of Attica, once they had built a fort and allotted a garrison to it, had no further control over that decision. Could that decision have been as inevitable as Ober must needs argue it was?

He, like Winter, appeals to the vulnerability of baggage trains and lines of retreat if forts were left intact along the way. As to baggage trains, only in the case of Eleutherai in the Kithairon pass does a road come so close to a fortress that a train could be struck by missiles from it. Since the Eleutherai pass is easily circumvented by other routes, including the nearby Dryos Kephalai pass, there is no reason to believe that an invading commander would have had to delay his advance in order to attack Eleutherai or any other Attic fort.[44] As to lines of retreat and how they might have affected a decision to invade, an invading commander would proceed only if he had confidence in his ability to overcome the enemy wherever they might appear in strength. He would therefore regard garrison forts as no more a threat to his eventual withdrawal than a hindrance to his advance.

This conclusion is amply supported by the testimony of Xenophon, who, writing shortly before the middle of the fourth century, on two occasions discusses the hypothetical consequences of an invasion of Attica. In his treatise on the Athenian cavalry commander, Xenophon considers the following scenario:

If the enemy invades Athenian territory, in the first place, he will certainly not fail to bring with him other cavalry besides his own and infantry in

― 21 ―addition, whose numbers he reckons to be more than a match for all the Athenians put together. Now provided that the whole of the city's levies turn out against such a host in defence of their country, the prospects are good. For our cavalrymen, God helping, will be better, if proper care is taken of them, and our heavy infantry will not be inferior in numbers, and I may add, they will be in as good condition and will show the keener spirit, if only, with God's help, they are trained on the right lines. And, remember, the Athenians are quite as proud of their ancestry as the Boeotians. But if the city falls back on her navy, and is content to keep her walls intact, as in the days when the Lacedaemonians invaded us with all the Greeks to help them, and if she expects her cavalry to protect all that lies outside the walls, and to take its chance unaided against the foes,—why then, I suppose, we need first the strong arm of the gods to aid us, and in the second place it is essential that our cavalry commander should be masterly. For much sagacity is called for in coping with a greatly superior force, and an abundance of courage when the call comes.[45]

While the thesis espoused by Ober would have us expect to find new strategies reflected in a fourth-century source, Xenophon's scenario is surprisingly consonant with the Periklean approach to the defense of Attica. The options for the Athenians, in the event of an invasion from Boiotia, are either to attempt to match forces with the enemy in open battle or to avoid battle with a powerful enemy in Attica and to withdraw within walls, while relying on the navy to strike against the enemy's homes and calling upon the cavalry to harry the invader and limit his depredations by preventing him from dispersing his forces to devastate or plunder. There is no hint that forts along the borders prevented, or even delayed, the arrival of the invader outside the walls of Athens.[46]

― 22 ―

Xenophon addresses different concerns in his treatise on the revenues of Athens, but his reflections on the strategic situation of Attica under invasion are entirely consonant with the previous passage. In speaking of enhancing the revenues of the state from the silver mines of southern Attica, Xenophon discusses how minimal the effects of an invasion would be on this resource:I reckon that, even in the event of war, it would not be necessary to abandon the silver mines. There are, of course, two fortresses in the mining district, one at Anaphlystos on the south side, the other at Thorikos on the north. The distance between them is about sixty stades [just under twelve kilometers]. Now if there were to be a third stronghold between them on the highest point of Besa, the works would then be linked to one or another of the fortresses, and at the first sign of a hostile movement, every man would have just a short distance to go in order to reach safety. If the enemy came in force, they would certainly carry away any grain, wine, or livestock that they found outside; but the silver ore, if they were to seize it, would be of no more use to them than so many stones. And how could an enemy ever invade the mining district? The distance between Megara, the nearest city, and the silver mines, is of course much more than five hundred stades [about 100 kilometers]; and Thebes, which is the next nearest, lies at a distance of much more than six hundred stades [over 120 kilometers]. If, then, the enemy is marching on the mines from some such point, they are bound to pass Athens. And if their numbers are small, they are likely to be destroyed by our cavalry and our patrols. On the other hand, it would be hard for the enemy to march with a large force, leaving their own property unprotected. For when they arrived in the mining district, the city of Athens would be much nearer to their own states than they themselves would be. But even supposing that they should come, how could they stay without supplies? To send part of their forces in search of food would endanger both the foraging party and their overall objectives, while if the whole force is continually foraging it will sooner find itself besieged than besieging.[47]

― 23 ―

In this passage, the function of rural forts during an invasion is discussed, though they are the forts along the northern edge of the mining district, not on the borders of Attica. Xenophon points out that there would be little to fear in the mining district from a raiding party entering Attica, for such a small force would likely be destroyed before its arrival in this distant corner of Attica by the combination of the quickly deployed cavalry and the already deployed patrols, the peripoloi . A major invasion force, however, would certainly be able to range and plunder at will throughout Attica. What would protect the mining district in that event would be the fact that everything vital (especially the miners themselves) could be readily withdrawn to the safety of convenient forts, while the silver ore left behind would be of no immediate value to the enemy and would be too cumbersome to move. As a consequence, there would be no point to an invasion of the mining district, especially since such a course would leave the enemy's own territory undefended; and being at the end of a long march, it would force the enemy to disperse and possibly lose manpower in foraging for supplies while achieving no useful offensive purpose. Here Xenophon assumes that an invading army would outman the Athenians and would have no difficulty moving anywhere in Attica. There is a conspicuous lack of any reference to border forts in a context that would, according to Ober's thesis, be most appropriate for their discussion.

These two passages from Xenophon, the first written perhaps before 362 and the second in the later 350s, are the only explicit discussions in fourth-century literature of the potential Athenian responses to an invasion of Attica.[48] Xenophon made these observations during the very period in which Ober claims that the system of border forts and towers was being perfected, having been under the guidance of a "coherent and ongoing program of defensive preparations" for some time.[49] Yet there is not the slightest trace of the system described by Ober in the writing of Xenophon.

Indeed, although Ober must assume that the policy of preclusive border defense was implemented by the Athenians through a process of

― 24 ―

ongoing public debate, he is embarrassed by the absolute silence of even the orators on the subject. He attempts to explain it away by asserting that "discussions of border defenses probably tended to make for rather dull orations, . . . and speeches concerned with the technicalities of the fortification system were not chosen for copying and preservation."[50] This is special pleading. For in laying the foundations for his interpretation of the border defenses of Attica, Ober argues that the collective Athenian psyche was in the grip of a "defensive mentality" to such an extent that "the fourth-century Athenian lived in terror of enemy invasion and wanted desperately to be allowed to go about his business in peace and safety."[51] There is no doubt, as has been pointed out at the beginning of this chapter, that the Athenians valued highly the security of Attica. But if there were any radically new departure embodied in the fourth-century approach to

[Full Size]

, and if, as Ober argues, that approach was sometimes at odds with such factors as financial constraints on the one hand and opposing policies, such as the imperialism of 395-387 or the aggressive foreign policy of Demosthenes on the other hand, then the subject of border defenses would have been ripe for declamatory pyrotechnics. In fact, forts are mentioned in speeches, as are various other preparations for war, and the ideal of defending the homeland is brought up often enough in fourth-century Athenian rhetoric. Yet nowhere is there any hint that the Athenians had created, or thought that they had created, an impermeable barrier of fortresses and watchposts around Attica.[52]

Arguments from silence are never, by themselves, fully convincing. There is a passage from Demosthenes, however, which appeals to the common knowledge of his audience about the nature of defensive preparations and is more telling than most about the full range of Athenian measures. Not only is this passage silent about a preclusive barrier of frontier fortresses, but it absolutely excludes the possibility of such a defensive policy. In his speech On the Naval Boards , delivered in 354, Demosthenes advocates practical measures the Athenians could take to strengthen their military preparedness. His specific advice is introduced after the following prefatory remarks:If indeed there were one kind of force suitable for defence against Persians and another for defence against Greeks, then we might reasonably

― 25 ―be suspected of marshalling ourselves against the King; but when all preparation for war is on the same lines [italics added] and the main objects of an armed force are the same—to be strong enough to repel the enemy, to assist one's allies, and to preserve one's own possessions—why, having open enemies enough [in Greece], must we be looking out for another? Let us make our preparations against them [i.e., Greeks], and then we shall defend ourselves against him too, if he ventures to molest us.[53]

By defense against Greeks, Demosthenes particularly has in mind defense against the Thebans (as he makes explicit in On the Naval Boards 33-34), who dwell on the very borders of Attica. The policy that Demosthenes goes on to advocate is a revision of the procedures for financing naval operations, designed to make it easier to man the fleet. The premise of these prefatory remarks, epitomized in the italicized portion above,

[Full Size], would be manifestly false if the Athenians, as Ober argues, had labored to create a unique frontier defense system.

Given the inherent implausibility of the hypothetical system together with the silence of the orators, the silence of Xenophon, the silence of Plato, and of all other sources, we must conclude that Ober and his predecessors have created e silentio a fabulous structure. Ober's "preclusive defense system" never existed except as a modern figment.

[Full Size]The discussion of forts in the passage from Xenophon's treatise on revenues quoted above points the way toward an understanding of Attic garrison forts that is well-

grounded in literary and epigraphic sources. In a state as large as Attica, forts in the outlying regions were needed as surrogates for the fortified urban center. Hence, as noted above in the case of Plato and other sources, forts and the urban center are comprehended together as fortified positions,

[Full Size], the concerns of which are always distinguished from the military affairs of the

[Full Size], the open countryside.[54]

― 26 ―

The direct relationship between rural forts and city defenses is explicitly described in a decree found in the text of Demosthenes' oration On the Crown , 37-38. By Demosthenes' own account, the decree enacted the evacuation of the Attic countryside as part of a general mobilization for war in 346. The original decree, however, was not recorded in the text of Demosthenes. Like all such decrees in this speech, the text that has come down to us is the invention of a Hellenistic editor, inserted to provide verisimilitude to the reading of this masterpiece of rhetoric. Specific details, therefore, cannot be trusted as accurate references to the events of 346, but there is no reason to doubt that the role of rural forts has been accurately represented:Kallisthenes . . . proposed that no Athenian be allowed upon any pretext whatsoever to pass the night in the country, but only in the city and Peiraieus, except those stationed in the garrisons; that the latter keep each the post assigned to him, leaving it neither by day nor by night . . . . All property in the country shall be immediately removed, if within a radius of 120 stades, to the city and Peiraieus; if outside of this radius, to Eleusis and Phyle and Aphidna and Rhamnous and Sounion.[55]

Although the urban center, ultimately, was the proper refuge for the population of Attica, garrison forts were essential for the protection of both property and populace in outlying areas. Hence their locations were dictated primarily by the presence of both sizable communities and significant economic resources. So, in addition to the agricultural resources local to Eleusis, Oinoe, Aphidna, and Rhamnous, the agricultural and pastoral resources of Parnes and the Skourta plain were protected by Phyle and Panakton, and the capital resources in the mining district, as discussed by Xenophon, were secured by the forts there. The

― 27 ―

maritime forts of Attica, by safeguarding the sea lanes that brought essential goods to Athens, also conform to these criteria, with the understanding that their strategic importance to the Athenians differed from that of inland forts just as the importance of imported goods differed from that of local resources. It would be a mistake, however, to attempt to explain the protective value of these fortifications in purely economic terms. The social and political importance, for the cohesion of the state, of protecting the property of its individual citizens irrespective of the strategic and economic value of that property was the overriding criterion for the establishment especially of the inland forts.

In the face of the main force of the enemy in wartime, the safety provided by garrison forts consisted in their security as points of refuge. They were, in effect, independent nodes of local security, not links in any chain of regional defense. The invasion of an enemy in force, however, was at most a periodic or occasional event. A more prevalent condition of wartime was the threat posed by small raiding parties and freebooters. Under such conditions, forts near the frontiers could serve the defensive interests of the greater territory of Attica by the ability of their garrisons to sound a warning and, in some cases, to challenge and repel such raiders. It is certainly significant, however, that Xenophon regards the city itself as the primary base for troops to repel even small parties of the invading enemy (Poroi 4.47). Too often, the garrisons of small towns and forts were ambushed and destroyed when lured out by raiding parties, so that restraint and caution, even against apparently minor incursions, must have always been urged as the wisest policy to garrison commanders. Their first and foremost duty was to hold their post and to remain, like the fortified city itself, impervious to the storms of war that might rage outside the walls. Their fundamental passivity rendered urban and rural forts alike anathema to the principles of manly resistance embraced by Plato in his formulations of an idealized state. But given the ease with which the devices and strategems of an attacker could deceive or overwhelm a defender who regularly sallied forth in response to an attack, the prudent defender had to rely at least as much on circuit walls as on upright virtue in planning his response. In a territorially extensive state such as Attica, if defensive forces concentrated in the urban center could not always march to the defense of any threatened quarter, then it was necessary to fortify and garrison strong points wherever communities and resources in outlying areas were most vulnerable. Rural forts thus were essential to the preservation of the territorial integrity of a large state during war and to the restoration and maintenance of economic integrity and civil authority after war.

The garrisons of Attica exercised their protective

[Full Size]on two levels, corresponding to the routines of peacetime and the emergencies of wartime. Since standing forces represented preparedness for war at all

― 28 ―

times, their duties in times of peace and in times of war were by no means mutually exclusive. Warlike actions could occur in what were nominally times of peace, and likewise peaceable activities went on in wartime. At all times, then, the responsibilities and activities of garrisons in the countryside could and did range across a spectrum of conditions between the two extremes of peace and war.

Garrisons and patrols routinely provided a local armed presence to protect the citizenry against animal theft or other forms of raiding or brigandage that might be attempted at any time in remote areas.[56] In practical terms, these functions became indistinguishable from civil police duties, which were concerned with disputes of the sort likely to arise between fellow citizens as well as between neighbors across a state boundary. Hence Aristotle associates

[Full Size], "watchposts," often a term for garrison forts in the countryside (e.g., AthPol . 42.4), with the seats of

[Full Size], "forest-wardens," and

[Full Size], "field-wardens," who exercise their

[Full Size](Politics 1331b). More strikingly, Plato identifies his

[Full Size], the "garrison commanders" who lead young citizens in patrolling the countryside and building defensive barriers, as

[Full Size], "field-wardens," and most of the routine duties he assigns to these officers and their charges are best described as police and civil engineering duties (Laws 760a-763c; cf. 842e-846c).

It is not certain that such complete civil service normally fell within the purview of Athenian garrison commanders and their men, although it is clear that, in voting honors to the ephebic and mercenary garrisons of Attica in the later fourth and third centuries, the communities in which they were posted commended them in general terms for their civic spirit and good citizenship, reflecting something more than just keeping watchful eyes open while posted on the battlements and patrolling the countryside.[57] In a real sense, these men brought civic order to

― 29 ―

the countryside, and by enforcing the laws of the state among their own citizens and offering them its protection against would-be despoilers, especially those dwelling just across borders, they sought to protect the state as a whole against the consequences of unchecked feuds or property disputes, "whence the deadliest hostilities ensue" (Plato Laws 843a). Plato and Aristotle, and the Athenians generally, were well aware of the potentially inflammatory nature of such purely local matters when they arose in the context of interstate relations (Plato Republic 373d-e, Laws 955b-c; Aristotle Politics 1330a; Demosthenes For the Megalopolitans 11, On the Embassy 326; Plutarch Phokion9.4).

The distinction between conditions of war and the state of peace as they affected a rural populace in outlying areas was often irrelevant in the context of encounters with strangers (potential brigands) and foreign neighbors (potential foes). Aeneas Tacticus describes the reaction of a city to news of a robbers' conspiracy in the countryside (

[Full Size]

[Full Size]), which differs in no way from a military operation in wartime (23.7-11; cf. 15.1-10). Except as regulated by explicit conventions, the Greek ideals of autonomy and independence implied a potential or actual state of war with all who were not members of the community or state. Despite the proliferation of treaties and the elaboration of the conventions of what came to be called the Common Peace (

[Full Size]) during the fourth century, this potential state of war applied as much to Attica as to any other part of the classical Greek world, especially during times of uncertain relations and open hostilities with the Boiotians. So Xenophon's advice about the utility of light-armed Athenians protecting countrymen and avenging themselves on foemen (Memorabilia 3.5.25-27, quoted at the beginning of this chapter) has the Boiotians particularly in mind and ignores the distinction between peace and war. It is modeled, as Xenophon admits, upon the practices of the Mysians and Pisidians, who freely plundered lands belonging to the Persian king while maintaining their independence within their mountain fastnesses (cf. Xenophon Anabasis 1.1.11, 1.2.1, 1.6.7, 1.9.14, esp. 3.2.23;

― 30 ―

Hellenika 3.1.13; cf. also Isokrates Panegyrikos 161, 163). Similarly, Xenophon mingles Greek and alien experience in his imaginary account of the war of mutual raids (

[Full Size]) carried out between the neighboring Armenians and Chaldaians, which Cyrus brought to a close by establishing a garrison in a strategically placed fort (Cyropaedia 3.2.1-3.4). The blurred distinction between the hostilities of wartime and potential robberies of peacetime, and the relationship of a standing armed force in the countryside to both conditions, is exemplified in another of Xenophon's epideictic fantasies, his Hieron :If therefore the first duty enjoined on the mercenaries [hired as the bodyguard of a benevolent despot] were to act as the bodyguard of the whole community and render help to all . . . the citizens would know that this is one service rendered to them by the mercenaries . . . . For naturally the mercenaries would also be able to give fearlessness and security in the fullest measure to the labourers and cattle in the country, and the benefit would not be confined to your own estates [i.e., those of the despot], but would be felt up and down the countryside. Again, they are competent to afford the citizens leisure for attending to their private affairs by guarding the vital positions [

[Full Size]]. Besides, should an enemy plan a secret and sudden attack, what handier agents can be found for detecting or preventing their design than a standing force, armed and organized? Or once more, when the citizens go campaigning, what is more useful to them than mercenaries? For these are, as a matter of course, the readiest to bear the brunt of toil and danger and watching. And must not those who possess a standing force impose on border states a strong desire for peace? For nothing equals an organized body of men, whether for protecting the property of friends or for thwarting the plans of enemies. Further, when the citizens get it into their heads that these troops do no harm to the innocent and hold the would-be malefactor in check, come to the rescue of the wronged, care for the citizens and shield them from danger, surely they are bound to pay the cost of them with a right goodwill. At all events they keep guards in their homes for less important objects than these.[58]

Athenian practices are best documented at those times when war threatened Attica, and although we lack detailed information even then, their practices generally conformed to those recorded in handbooks such as that of Aeneas Tacticus and in philosophical treatises such as the works of Plato and Aristotle that have been cited above. When war loomed on the borders of Attica, the garrison forts were the first recourse of the local populace as a refuge for both themselves and their movable property, as with the forts of the mining district described by Xenophon (Poroi 4.43-44). This was mostly an emergency function,

― 31 ―

however, for whenever war was foreseen, the evacuation of the rural populace to the city was the normal procedure (as it was in the pseudo-decree from Demosthenes On the Crown 37-38 quoted above; the large slave population of the mining district posed a special problem, which Xenophon addressed by his proposal for the employment of another fort in Poroi 4.43-44).[59] Likewise, while the garrison forts were readied for war, the rural populace moved to Athens in 431 (Thucydides 2.13.2, 14, 16, 17, 18.2), in 346 (Demosthenes On the Crown 36-38, On the Embassy 86, 125; Aischines On the Embassy 139, Against Ktesiphon 80), in 338 (Lykourgos Against Leokrates 16), and in 335 ([Demades] On the Twelve Years 14; Arrian Anabasis 1.10.2).

Even at such times, under martial law, as long as the enemy was not on the move in the vicinity, citizens could work in the countryside during the day, at which time the augmented garrisons, patrols, and lookouts were responsible for providing protection against raids.[60] Such protection is envisioned by Xenophon when he describes the destruction of a small hostile force by the cavalry and the peripoloi (Poroi 4.47). Moreover, forces based in the forts, including the cavalry wherever feasible, were expected to carry out raids against enemy forces and neighboring hostile territory, as they had during the Peloponnesian War.[61] Perhaps the most important function of the rural garrisons of Attica, both in times of open war and of nominal peace, was to assure that no fortress should fall into the hands of the enemy and thus become an outpost for hostile operations against Attica, an epiteichismos , as the Peloponnesian fort at Dekeleia had been and, furthermore, constitute a loss of Athenian territory. That commitment was solemnified in the oath of Athenian ephebes to stand to their posts and not to allow the fatherland to be diminished. The commitment was made vivid and tangible by the appearance of "the

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boundaries of the fatherland" and the chief produce of Attic land, "wheat, barley, vines, olives, figs," among the witnesses to the oath.[62]

Territorial Defense and HistoryThe study of Attic forts, and of rural Greek forts in general, is most properly concerned with the history of the settlement and exploitation of outlying regions and with the changing relationships of these regions to the state as a whole. Garrison forts played only a limited role in the strategies for territorial defense. against an

imminent general invasion. That role was essentially no different from that of the urban enceinte on a smaller scale, and the historical evolution of rural forts therefore parallels the history of urban fortifications. Herein lies the resolution of the paradox noted above, in which fortresses were shown to be fundamental to the defensive institutions and concerns of a state yet, under the threat of invasion, to be primarily passive centers of resistance.

Misconceptions have long clouded the assessment of these functions and concerns, usually in the form of ascribing a more specialized and potent historical role to fortresses than our sources support. Those who have hesitated to accept such assumptions have, on the other hand, generally been reluctant to discuss the subject of the historical role of rural fortifications in detail. Uncertainties about dates and functions have seemed to obviate the possibility of any but the most generalized comments. Yvon Garlan warned of the pitfalls awaiting those who would inevitably be drawn to the challenge of recovering history from the abundant remains of fortifications in the Greek countryside. He illustrates the situation by reference to Attica in particular:Les fortifications de l'Attique ont été étudiées avec plus de soin et d'esprit critique, bien que, faute d'avoir été systématiquement et soigneusement fouillées, elles soient encore loin d'offrir à l'historien le "butin" qu'il en attend.[63]

It is indeed inevitable that historians turn to the archaeological wealth of the Greek countryside in search of fragments and aspects of history that are not fully represented in literary sources. Among these vestiges attention comes, first and foremost, to the substantial remains of garrison forts. But these remains have for the most part eluded attempts by

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historians and archaeologists to associate them with precise historical moments. This is to be expected, since as the foregoing discussion has demonstrated, such fortifications represented generic responses to perennial conditions. Only rarely do archaeological remains occur in a form that allows a direct and demonstrable correspondence with historical episodes. Such exceptions do exist in the realm of rural fortifications, in the Attic countryside and elsewhere. In every case, unlike regular garrison forts, these fortifications represent specific and even unique responses to special conditions.[64] The Dema wall is chief among these special measures in classical Attica, and an understanding of this fortification promises to show how the Athenians of the fourth century reacted differently from Perikles and his contemporaries to the threat of an invasion of Attica.

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PART TWOTHE DEMA WALL

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TwoThe Dema Wall, Form and Function

The survey by Jones, Sackett, and Eliot remains the authoritative description of the Dema wall, to be emended occasionally on points of interpretation, rarely of observation. For a detailed description of the wall, the reader is referred to that study, which is all the more invaluable because it was made before industrial works and landfills began obscuring and destroying portions of the wall in the past few decades. What follows is a description of the general nature of this fieldwork and some of its distinctive features, a discussion of those archaeological features most indicative of its date, and an analysis of its function as indicated by its form.[1]

Location and DescriptionThe gap between Mount Aigaleos and Mount Parnes is the widest pass giving access to the plain of Athens from the direction of the Corinthian Isthmus and the Kithairon frontier of Boiotia. Like the more narrow pass of the Sacred Way to the south, it provides a way to the plain of Athens from the plain of Eleusis on the west side of Aigaleos. The distance between the slopes of Aigaleos and Parnes is almost two kilometers at the narrowest part of the pass, but free movement within it is restricted by two lines of hills that rise at its narrowest point and run to the southwest, into the lower plain of Eleusis. These two lines of hills form three saddles within the pass, and through these saddles run most of the paths and modern routes using the pass, including, in the southern

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saddle, the single overland railway line linking northern Greece to the Peloponnese.

The Dema wall runs northward from the northern slopes of Aigaleos, across the two hills standing in the narrows of the pass, and up the slope of the southernmost outrunner of Parnes, covering a total distance of some 4,360 meters as measured on the ground (see map 2 and figure 9).[2] The wall keeps just west of the summit of the pass, following a meandering course carefully chosen so as to leave no higher ground and a minimum of level ground before it to the west. In many places the line of the wall is drawn across the brow of a hill, leaving the steepest slopes in the area directly in front of it. The course of the wall provides a balance between the shortest line across the pass and the maximum advantage of position for a defender facing an enemy coming from the west.

Two distinct sectors of the Dema wall can be recognized on the basis of construction technique and form. The principal and more substantially built sector crosses the pass from its beginning on Aigaleos at the south to the foot of Parnes at the north, a ground distance of 2,950 meters. The second and more slightly constructed sector continues the line of the wall in a northwesterly direction up and along the slopes of Parnes, over a distance of 1,410 meters.

In its principal, or southern, sector, the face of the wall is built of a rough-worked masonry varying from a near-rubble polygonal style to horizontal courses of roughly rectangular and trapezoidal blocks, often with irregular fillers and stackwork (see figures 12-16). Behind this facing, the fill of the wall is rubble mixed with earth and stone chips. The stone for construction was quarried on the spot from the local gray limestone bedrock, atop which the wall is directly founded over most of its length.

The principal sector of the wall is not a continuous barrier but is composed of separate wall-sections built with finished ends. These sections overlap each other, the northern end of each advanced just to the west of the beginning of the following section, leaving a small gap which forms a sally port. These sally ports, averaging about a meter in width, open toward the north, or toward the right from the point of view of someone standing behind the wall. Where the Dema crosses sloping ground, the interval between sally ports is greater (an average of 65 meters); where it crosses level ground, they occur more frequently (at an average of 29-meter intervals).[3] The form of the wall-sections also varies according to whether they run across sloping or level ground. Over sloping ground,

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[Full Size]

Map 2.The Dema wall in the Aigaleos-Parnes gap

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the longer sections are less than 2 meters wide, with their top surface about 1.50 meters above ground level in front, while in back, a rubble fill forms a ramp running the entire length of each section, rising from ground level some 3 meters behind the wall to give access to its fiat top surface (see figure 10). Over level ground, the

shorter wall-sections are more massive, being nearly 3 meters in width and 2 meters or more in height, with access to their top surfaces provided by pairs of separately built ramps averaging 2.75 meters wide by 5 meters long behind each section (see figure 11). The ramps indicate that the top of the wall was meant to be used as a fighting platform, a fact that is confirmed by the remains of a breastwork or parapet wall about 0.60 meters wide preserved atop the outer face on some wall-sections of each type.

In addition to sally ports, at least two wider gateways (between 2 and 3 meters wide) were built into the wall. Both of these are located near the center of the pass. The southern of the two was built a little way above the bottom of the central valley, where it served a natural way through the pass by way of the central saddle. The second was built 230 meters to the north, where it served a terraced road that begins east of the wall and runs for some distance to the west, at a uniform elevation, along the ridge called Kalistiri. Other stretches of terraced road, apparently related to the first stretch but not continuous with it, lie at lower levels along the northern slope of Kalistiri. It is likely that there was a third gate in the wall in the southern saddle, since this was probably always the most-traveled route through the pass. Here the railroad and the paved highway, following the line Of the main track of the nineteenth century, both cross the line of the wall. An original gateway here would have been obscured by the traffic of the ages and by the robbing of stone that evidently took place along this easily accessible stretch of the Dema wall. Any traces of it that may have survived to the nineteenth century have been destroyed by either the construction of the railroad or the highway.[4]

The state of preservation of the wall in its principal sector is generally good. Over most of its length, the wall stands to approximately the original height of the walkway atop each of the wall-sections. Damage to the wall has naturally been greatest wherever it is directly accessible to everyday traffic, and this is especially the case where the wall crosses the south-

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ern saddle. Within recent years, the great increase in industrial activity in the area has led to further encroachments upon the wall, but as of 1987, this damage has not been particularly widespread.[5]

The second, or northern, sector of the Dema wall seems quite crude by comparison to the southern sector, and there are some anomalous features in the transition between the two. Near the center of the northern saddle, the last independent wall-section of the southern sector deviates from the norm in that both of its ends stand to the west of the adjacent stretches of wall, leaving an irregular, southward-facing sally port at its southern end. This section is also peculiar in that it combines the construction and features of the shorter wall-sections in its southern half with those of the longer sections in its northern half, and is incomplete in that there is no rubble ramp heaped up behind the longer northern part of this section.[6] After an offset sally port of the regular type at the northern end of this section, the wall continues as a less substantial rubble structure, less than a meter in height and without a backing ramp. This wall gives out after 37 meters and is traceable only intermittently for some distance thereafter as a line of stones on the ground. When the remains of the wall become more substantial, they can be followed as they gradually climb northwestward and traverse the steep slopes of Parnes in an almost

straight line, eventually coming to an end at a seemingly arbitrary point. The remains are those of a simple wall of unworked rubble, about a meter in width and no more than that in preserved height; it was clearly never more than a low parapet or breastwork (see figure 19). This sector has no sally ports or gateways, and its nearly straight course displays none of the attention to local terrain shown in the southern sector. It gives the impression of hasty work, especially when contrasted with the apparent care taken in the planning and construction of the southern sector.

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Archaeological Evidence for the Date of the Dema WallMasonry style within the southern, or main, sector of the wall provides the most readily observable evidence by which provisional limits can be established for the date of the Dema. The variety of dates that have been suggested for the Dema using masonry style as at least one of the principal criteria must serve as a warning on how subjective and imprecise masonry style can be as a chronological criterion, especially in a work like this where the style is so variable and is often not much more than artless rubble. Nevertheless, attention to those stretches of the wall where the stones have been worked and laid with enough care to display the stylistic preferences of the masons who built it does provide useful evidence with which a discussion of the dating of the Dema can begin.[7] The northern sector of the wall, being simple rubble built according to a different plan, lies outside of the discussion for the moment.

The masonry of the wall and its chronological implications have been adequately examined by Jones, Sackett, and Eliot. My own examination of the wall confirms their observations, so what follows is, for the most part, a summary of their conclusions.[8] The use of quadrilateral blocks, occasionally in short stretches of horizontal coursing, suggests a date in the fifth century or later (see figures 15 and 16). The use of stacks of smaller fiat stones to fill vertical gaps between larger blocks is a practice commonly found in Attic masonry of the fifth century; it is attested as early as the end of the sixth century and continues to appear in works of the fourth century (see figure 14, and cf. figure 8). The occurrence of a drafted corner at the end of one wall-section also indicates a date in the fifth century or later (see figure 18). In Attic fortifications, drafted corners are best attested in late-fifth- and fourth-century works and may occur later. In addition to these details of technique, some stretches of the wall display a style of polygonal masonry characteristic of Attic walls of the late fifth or fourth century. This style consists of quadrilateral blocks interspersed with polygons, with small filler-stones of various shapes employed to fill irregular notches in larger stones and to provide level bedding for the stones above (see figures 15 and 16). The best-known exemplar of this style, albeit finished with greater care, is the so-

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called Kononian phase of the city walls of Athens, belonging to the early fourth century (see figure 17).[9]

Taking all of these factors into consideration, a date within the classical period seems most likely for the wall.[10] As Jones, Sackett, and Eliot have recognized, clear indications of classical masonry styles, such as the prevalent use of quadrangular blocks and, especially, the drafted corner, render the resemblance of some stretches of the wall to Archaic polygonal work, with its characteristic use of curvilinear joints (e.g., figures 12 and 13), fortuitous and without chronological value.[11] On the whole, the implication of the drafted corner and the resemblance of some stretches to the style of walls known to date to the fourth century suggest that a late-fifth- or fourth-century date is more likely than one earlier in the fifth century.[12] These considerations are only suggestive, however, and not conclusive. It must be admitted that a date even later than the fourth century cannot be ruled out on the basis of masonry style alone.

The chance discovery of a datable sherd in a significant context confirms the above provisional conclusion about the date of the wall. The find was made during excavations at the Dema house, which is located 13 meters in front of the wall near the bottom of the southern saddle and which was investigated soon after the publication of the survey of the wall. The sherd came from the fill of the section of the Dema wall adjacent to the house, where it evidently had been buried during the construction of the wall. It is a black-glazed saltcellar, three-quarters in-

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tact, dated in the publication of the Dema house excavations to the mid fourth century. A comparison of this piece to similar saltcellars dated according to their find contexts shows, however, that this date must be revised upward by as much as a half-century. The sherd can be dated with assurance to the last quarter of the fifth or first quarter of the fourth century (see appendix I). The evidence provided by the saltcellar proves that the Dema wall could not have been built earlier than the last quarter of the fifth century at the very earliest, and more likely no earlier than the first quarter of the fourth century.[13]

Circumstantial evidence bearing on the date of the wall comes from the Dema house itself. Jones, Sackett, and Eliot have pointed out that it is highly improbable that this house could have been standing at the same time that the wall itself was actively defended. The house is situated just in front of the wall at one of its most vulnerable points, on nearly level ground at a valley bottom, probably beside a road through a gate in the wall, where the house could have been an obstacle to the defenders of the wall and could have provided cover to attackers. On the evidence of surface sherds, later confirmed by excavation, the house had a comparatively short life span, having been built and destroyed within the last third of the fifth century, most probably within the Peace of Nikias (421-413). The Dema wall, it was argued, should be dated after the destruction of this house, since had the wall been standing, the house would not have been built in such a position as to compromise its defensibility, nor would the house have been built just outside of its protective line.[14] The subsequent discovery of the saltcellar in the fill of the wall provided even more convincing proof that the wall was built after the destruction of the house, but the relationship of the house to the wall remains a consideration in the dating of the wall because of the discovery during excavation of evidence for a second phase of occupation during which the house was partially rebuilt. Pottery associated with this second phase is dated by the excavators to the mid fourth century. Within this group, at least one sherd is certainly not earlier than the third quarter of the fourth

century, and it is likely that the group as a whole is to be dated somewhat after, rather than before, 350.[15] More

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precise limits for this phase cannot be readily established, but the comparative paucity of finds from this phase suggests that the reoccupation of the house was not very long-lived and was probably limited to a period within the third quarter of the fourth century, possibly into the fourth quarter.

The second phase of occupation of the Dema house is well within the period under consideration for the date of the wall, so it would be of considerable value if it could be shown that the reoccupation of the house is either earlier or later than the construction of the wall. If the wall were built earlier than the rebuilding of the house, the wall must have been regarded as obsolete by the time the house was rebuilt. In that case, Jones, Sackett, and Eliot suggest that "the house would probably have been placed so as to utilize the Dema as its rear wall as is the case with more recent structures along the Dema Wall."[16] The more recent structures are sheepfolds, however, and incorporating the Dema into the construction of a house for human habitation would not necessarily have seemed so attractive. It would have been virtually impossible to make the face of the wall watertight given the comparatively loose joining of the stones in its face and the mass of rubble and earth behind it, through which rainwater would inevitably percolate. The foundations of the original house would have been a much more suitable place to build another dwelling. The fact that the house was rebuilt away from the wall and not against it thus has no bearing on the issue of whether or not the Dema wall was already standing, and already obsolete, when the house was rebuilt.

There are, however, traces of a structure built against the face of the Dema wall close beside the Dema house. These remains were cleared in the course of the excavations of the house. No finds providing evidence for the date of this structure are reported, nor do the excavators posit any association between this structure and the Dema house, but the ruinous state of its remains and its proximity to the house make it possible to suppose that it was an outbuilding associated with the second phase

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of the Dema house.[17] The remains of this structure, a single course of foundations for a roughly rectangular building or enclosure 5.80 meters long by 4.20 meters wide, were buried in the same shallow soil that covered the remains of the house, so there is reason at least to presume that it is ancient. Dilapidation and proximity are not the only reasons for supposing that this structure was associated with the house. In its second period of occupation, only a small part of the house—two rooms in ground plan—was rebuilt. This likely provided only a residential unit with little room for ancillary functions, such as room for work or storage or even penning animals.[18] The structure beside the wall might well have been put up to serve some ancillary function of this sort. For such a utilitarian structure, water seepage would not necessarily have been a problem, so the advantage noted above of building against

the face of the Dema wall might actually have been realized in the construction of this outbuilding during the second occupation of the Dema house.

If so, the Dema wall would have to have been constructed a number of years earlier in the fourth century than the second phase of the house. While this supposition is circumstantially plausible, it cannot be proved on the basis of the evidence produced in the Dema house excavation. If other evidence is found to support a date for the Dema wall before the middle of the fourth century, then we may at least say that the evidence from the Dema house is consonant with that conclusion.

We may now review the chronological evidence coming from the wall itself and its relationship to the Dema house. Masonry style favors a date in the last quarter of the fifth century or later. The saltcellar found in the fill of the wall confirms this conclusion and indicates that a fourth-century date is rather more likely than one before the end of the fifth century. The wall cannot have been operationally effective with the Dema house standing in front of it, so the wall must either have been built well before the rebuilding of the house, which probably took place in the third quarter of the fourth century, or else it must have been built after this reoccupation of the house came to an end. Neither of these last two alternatives is supported by decisive evidence, but circumstantial evidence suggests that the wall may already have been obsolete when the Dema house was rebuilt. In sum, there is reason to consider a date for the wall within the first half of the fourth century to be a likelihood, but no specific date later in the fourth century, or even later still, can be positively excluded on the basis of the archaeological evidence so far considered.

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The Tactical Purpose of the Dema WallThe most striking feature about the Dema wall is the frequency of sally ports along its main sector. These were designed to allow the defenders to make sorties against an enemy before the wall; all open to the right, from the defenders' point of view, allowing them to emerge from behind the wall with their shield-bearing left sides facing the enemy. The frequency of sally ports demonstrates that they were provided in order to allow the defenders the option of sallying out from behind the wall at any convenient point. Sally ports are more numerous where the ground in front of the wall is more nearly level, which is where the wall would have been more vulnerable to attack. If the wall were simply meant to be a preclusive barrier, then this is precisely where openings would have been least desirable. But their greater number in such stretches of the Dema proves that they were designed to facilitate vigorous attacks launched by the defending force to prevent the enemy from attempting to storm the wall itself.[19] These points are well appreciated by Jones, Sackett, and Eliot:The implication behind the use of sallyports is that attack is the best de-fence; so generous a provision of these features in the Dema implies not merely that this principle was recognized, but that the whole tactical scheme of defence was based on it.[20]

With attack and counterattack being the key to a successful defense of the Dema, it is evident that the defending force had to be an army of some size, not a mere garrison force such as might suffice for the defense of a fort or a city circuit.[21] That army had to be able to engage the enemy frontally in the event of an

assault, making use of the fighting platform atop the wall probably only after resistance offered in front of the wall

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was broken by the attack. At the same time, the defenders had to be numerous enough to take advantage of the hilly terrain within the pass to harass and strike at the flanks of the advancing enemy. The wall was, in effect, a final line of defense, a barrier designed to prevent the enemy from making a decisive break in the defenders' line. But for the wall not to have been an impediment to defending troops moving back and forth across its line required an exceptional level of skill and discipline on the part of the defending forces. Once again, the observations of Jones, Sackett, and Eliot in this connection are entirely apt:To base the whole defence so largely on sorties suggests a professional skill on the part of the commander, and training and discipline on the part of the men. The latter would have to sally out in single file, advance in formation or in open order across very rough ground, engage the enemy, break off contact at a word of command, and, possibly under heavy pressure, retire in orderly style one at a rime through the rampart. The operation suggests the battle drill either of a very well-trained levy, or perhaps rather of a professional soldiery.[22]

The advantages of high ground afforded to the defenders within the pass and along the wall, together with the rocky and uneven nature of the ground on all of the hills, suggest that light-armed skirmishing troops, and in particular peltasts armed with javelins, could have been used to considerable advantage in the defense of the Dema.[23] Cavalry would have been nearly useless on the rocky slopes and, in any event, could only have crossed the wall through its few gateways, the sally ports being too narrow for horsemen to use. Hoplites moving in formation would also have been somewhat hampered by the terrain and would certainly have been less agile in their advances and retreats than peltasts. It therefore seems reasonable to conclude, with Jones, Sackett, and Eliot, that the Dema wall must have been designed with peltast tactics in mind.[24] This conclusion accords well with the preliminary conclusions on the date of the wall as determined by the archaeological evidence. It was in the first half of the fourth century that drilled and disciplined

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professional peltasts achieved their most notable successes under Athenian commanders, Iphikrates and Chabrias in particular.[25]

But in recognizing the special advantages of javelin-throwing peltasts in the tactics implied by the design of the Dema, we should not exclude the possibility that hoplites, and perhaps cavalry as well, would have had useful or even necessary roles to play in defending the Dema. The chief advantage of peltasts fighting in broken terrain such as that around the Dema wall was their ability, especially when opposing hoplites, to strike at will and to escape blows through flight. But their reliance on flight as an essential feature of their effectiveness rendered peltasts unsuitable for holding a fixed position, unless the position itself were virtually impregnable. The Dema wall, built as a compromise between defensive strength and tactical mobility, was not an impregnable position in these terms. Even with a strong peltast force operating over the slopes in front of the wall, the contest over whether or not an

enemy force would be able to cross the wall might well have depended upon the outcome of hand-to-hand combat, in which case the advantage would turn to hoplite troops. So J. K. Anderson, writing on military techniques of the first half of the fourth century, observes:The helplessness of Greek heavy infantry when attacked by light-armed troops in broken ground has often been remarked, but if the heavy infantry were not trying to drive the enemy off the hills and occupy them themselves, but merely to pass from one plain to another, they could often fight their way through with their strength substantially intact. Behind them, their enemies were left in the hills, uninjured but unable to do anything more to save their farms and open villages.[26]

Anderson's remarks could well describe the situation in the Aigaleos-Parnes pass. If a hoplite force attempting to cross the pass were itself provided with skirmishing troops such as archers or peltasts, a defending force of peltasts might be neutralized, or at least kept preoccupied by such troops, while the hoplite force advanced on the wall itself. Once at the wall, the defenders would have a considerable advantage by virtue of their position atop the wall, but if they did not have hoplite shields, this advantage would be mitigated in the hand-to-hand fighting against hoplite ranks pressing up against the wall and especially against the vulnerable gateways and sally ports. If the attackers could be supported in

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their assault by light troops firing stones, arrows, or javelins against the defenders, peltast troops alone would probably find it altogether impossible to hold their position even atop the wall, and the hoplite army would be through the barrier and on its way into the plain of Athens.[27]

Taking these possibilities into account, we should acknowledge that hoplite troops must have had an important role in manning the Dema. Anderson has in fact already suggested that this was the case, pointing out that hoplite files could move out through the sally ports and form up in line to support peltasts attacking in advance of them.[28] We can imagine that hoplite ranks drawn up on the high ground in front of the wall would add considerably to the deterrent effect of this entire defensive position.[29] If intimidation were not enough to halt an attack and if engagements in front of the wall should prove or seem futile, the Dema wall itself would become an ally of stone to the hoplite ranks standing atop it, its immovable weight nullifying the strength of the enemy pressing up against it. The irregularities of the terrain in front of the wall make it highly unlikely that the entire length of the wall would come under attack by enemy hoplites in one assault. Assaults would more likely have been attempted only at those points where the wall was most easily approached, which would allow the defenders to concentrate their forces there while subjecting the flanks of the attackers, wherever possible, to counterattack by either hoplites or peltasts.[30]

The vulnerable points of the Dema wall are those where it can be approached over level or near-level ground. There are four such points along its line, and it is worth considering how the vulnerability of each of them might have been offset in the defensive scheme of the Dema.

The easiest approaches to the wall are in the southern and central saddles, where the ascent to the watershed at the center of the pass is nowhere very steep (the approach to the northern saddle, by contrast, involves both a longer and much steeper climb). These are essentially narrow ways, however, bordered by steep

slopes for some distance, with little room for troops to form a frontal line in approaching the wall.

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Sallies across the slopes above these saddles, by either hoplite or peltast troops, could turn the flank of a force advancing along the bottoms of these saddles and halt its advance. With the line of the Dema drawn back in the saddles and thrown forward on the hills so as to control the heights immediately above the approaches to the wall in the saddles, this is evidently the most elementary sort of defensive counterattack envisioned by the planners of the wall.[31]

The remaining two level approaches present a different problem. These are level hilltops in front of the wall, both outrunners of the northern hill within the pass, separated from each other by a watercourse. Here, with no higher ground above these level stretches, there would be danger to the defenders of the Dema if the enemy were able to occupy these outrunners of the northern hill, for they would be able to assemble their forces for an assault on the wall over the widest front of near-level ground, where the defenders would have the least advantage of position (except for the advantage afforded by the wall itself) and where the defenders would be unable to assault the flanks of the advancing enemy from higher ground.[32] It would be desirable, therefore, for the defenders of the wall to occupy the tops of these hills first to keep the enemy at a disadvantage on the slopes below.

The northernmost of these outrunners extends for only a few hundred meters in front of the wall, so it would have been comparatively easy for forces along the wall to advance over this ground if the enemy should be seen to be moving in this direction. Across the watercourse to the south of this outrunner is Kalistiri, the principal outrunner of the northern hill, the near-level top of which extends over a kilometer beyond the wall. Here the likelihood was greater that enemy peltasts would be able to ascend the far end of Kalistiri before it was occupied by defending troops. Alternatively, if defenders were on the ridge, they could not be everywhere in strength, and the enemy might be able to force the defenders back by concentrating an attack at some convenient point along the ridge where the defenders were weak.[33] Thereafter, defending troops would be deprived of the advantage of high ground in front of this part of the wall, and the defensive line would probably have to be

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drawn back to the wall itself, where the contest would be decided at what was the most vulnerable part of the Dema wall.

Control of this ridge would likely have been determined in a contest between forces of agile, light-armed troops, probably peltasts. But the importance of the ridge for the defense of the wall might have made it desirable for the defenders to use cavalry along its top, either as a force that could move quickly to prevent an enemy ascent or as a reinforcement to peltasts already operating on the ridge, or likely for both of these purposes, since cavalry supported by light infantry was an especially effective form of skirmishing force.[34] These considerations might explain the purpose of the northernmost gateway in the wall and the terraced road running through it,

which extends along Kalistiri, a little below its crest, until the ridge descends into the plain below.[35] A road of this sort is precisely what would be needed to allow horses to move quickly along this rocky ridge. Enemy cavalry would almost certainly be unable to climb the steep rocky sides of Kalistiri, so the chief value of cavalry here for the defenders of the wall would be its ability, by moving swiftly along the ridge, to either deter or stem any assault on the ridge by enemy light-armed infantry.

Perhaps, then, provision was made in the plan of the Dema, in the form of the northern gateway and road along Kalistiri, for the limited use of cavalry in maintaining control of this ridge. Cavalry was an important arm of Athenian forces, so it is reasonable to expect that its usefulness was taken into account in planning the defenses of this pass.[36] Cavalry could have been employed to hamper the progress of an invading army moving across the plain of Eleusis, as it was during Archidamos' invasion of 431.[37] In this case, gateways in the central and southern valleys, desirable for civilian traffic, were essential to allow cavalry forces to move from one side of the wall to the other. Likewise, the stretches of roadway on the northern side of Kalistiri, not obviously useful for civilian traffic, might have been specifically intended to allow cavalry to move quickly between the plain of Eleusis and the top of the Kalistiri ridge.

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Cavalry might also have been effective as an auxiliary force behind the wall in stemming the advance of enemy foot soldiers if they should succeed in crossing the wall, especially in the more level ground of the saddles.

The Dema wall, then, was essentially a tactical device built to support an army in the field. The army for which it was designed must have included several thousand hoplites as its core and a sizable force, perhaps numbering in the thousands, of light troops, most likely peltasts, while a few hundred horsemen could have been a valuable force for special supporting actions. The tactics employed by such a force in the defense of a wall of this sort are best exemplified, as has been widely recognized, by the operations of combined Theban and Athenian forces in Boiotia in 378 and 377 defending a fieldwork near Thebes against Peloponnesian forces under the command of Agesilaos.[38] The fieldwork in this case was not of stone but consisted of a wooden palisade and ditch. Rather than blocking a single pass, it was a considerably more extensive work that, according to Xenophon, "encircled the plain and the most valuable parts of the territory" of Thebes. This barrier especially resembled the Dema in that sally ports were built into it at intervals frequent enough to allow the defenders to attack at will from any position behind the wall.[39]

In the campaign of 378, the Theban and Athenian forces, although outnumbered by the army of Agesilaos, were able to discourage him from directly attacking them by virtue of the strength of their fieldwork. Agesilaos was unable to cross the wall wherever he found the defenders ready inside it, and the defenders were even able to deal blows to the forces of Agesilaos at opportune moments without compromising their defensive line. Xenophon describes an incident wherein a number of horsemen and peltasts of the Peloponnesians were struck down by an unexpected cavalry attack launched through the sally ports of the wall. Agesilaos did manage, however, to penetrate this defensive perimeter in both of his campaigns by contriving to deceive the defenders and cross the line at undefended points. Even so, Theban and Athenian forces continued to confront Agesilaos wherever the terrain

afforded them advantages that counterbalanced the Peloponnesian superiority in numbers. In the campaign of 378, Chabrias the Athenian won acclaim for his generalship, for the discipline of his men, and for the disdain with which

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they stood their ground in the face of a threatened Peloponnesian attack.[40] Such tactics characterized both campaigns, with the result that no decisive battles were fought, but blows were exchanged principally by the skirmishers, peltasts and cavalry, of both armies. These defensive tactics are summarized by Plutarch, who speaks generally of Theban successes against Spartan-led forces in 378-377:They were not pitched battles, nor were the combatants drawn up in open and regular formation, but they succeeded by making well-judged attacks and by adopting flexible tactics, according to which they might retire and break off the action, or pursue and come to close quarters with the enemy.[41]

The similarity between the tactics of the Theban campaign in which Chabrias was so prominently involved and those implied by the Dema wall is striking, and it is noteworthy that Chabrias is associated, directly and indirectly, with other fieldworks and defensive tactics comparable to those of the Theban campaigns. In 369 Chabrias was in command of an Athenian force that, together with the Spartans, Corinthians, and other allies, attempted to hold a defensive line at the Isthmus against the Thebans under Epameinondas. The line of the allies was reinforced by palisades and ditches extending all the way from Lechaion to Kenchreai. Although sally ports are not explicitly mentioned, it seems likely that they were included in this wall just as they had been in the Theban palisade. Epameinondas, having surveyed the positions of the defenders, began his assault on the line with a surprise attack at dawn against the most easily approachable part of the line, where the Spartan and Pellenean troops were posted. By virtue of this surprise, Epameinondas was able to breach the line of the palisade and force the Spartans to withdraw to a position atop a hill. The Spartans were still capable of hindering the passage of Epameinondas, but they considered themselves ill prepared to continue the fight and accepted a truce allowing Epameinondas to pass on his way into the Peloponnese.[42] Once again, surprise was decisive in enabling an attacker to cross such a defensive fieldwork. Epameinondas further minimized the advantages of the defenders by directing the main thrust of his attack against the section of the line that was most assailable (

[Full Size]) and most easily approached (

[Full Size])—where it probably, therefore, ran across level ground.[43] The troops un-

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der Chabrias were evidently positioned elsewhere along the line where the fieldworks must have been drawn across more defensible terrain, and they had little part in the engagement.[44] Later in this campaign, Chabrias did have an opportunity to display his mastery of tactics and terrain when he deployed light-armed troops on high ground just outside of the city of Corinth to repel an assault by Theban hoplites, which resulted in losses for the Thebans and praise for Chabrias.[45]

The tactics of a calculated stand on advantageous terrain fortified with a palisade, evidently provided with regular sally ports, are again exemplified in the battle of Tamynai on Euboia in 348. There Phokion, in command of the Athenian army, arrayed his troops within a palisaded camp on a ridge and bade them wait until, through their inaction, the more numerous enemy force was drawn into an assault on their strong position. Although the engagement began when Ploutarchos, Phokion's ally, lost patience and charged the enemy with his mercenaries, the outcome was as Phokion had planned, for the enemy, repelling Ploutarchos and the force of cavalry that had come to his assistance, advanced to the palisade, where they were themselves put to flight when Phokion's troops emerged from behind the palisade. The rout began with the onset of Phokion's hoplites in formation and was completed as Phokion pressed the attack against the fleeing enemy with a body of picked troops reinforced by the cavalry, which had by now regrouped.[46] Phokion's tactics and his use of the palisaded line closely resemble the examples set by Chabrias, especially in the campaign against Agesilaos at Thebes in 378. It is certainly significant, therefore, that according to Plutarch, Phokion was a protégé of Chabrias and gained his military experience under the command of Chabrias.[47] It seems quite likely that Phokion was an officer under Chabrias in Boiotia in 378 and 377, and possibly at Corinth in 369, and that the lessons of these campaigns were applied by Phokion at Tamynai.[48]

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Temporary fieldworks in the form of palisades and ditches, or made of other materials according to their availability, had long been used by the Greeks to fortify camps and siege lines, but the use of such field-works to reinforce battle lines is not widely attested until the fourth century.[49] The growing sophistication of fieldworks employed as tactical devices is concomitant with the increased professionalism of generals and commanders in the fourth century, who were ready to adopt and adapt new measures to give their forces a tactical advantage whenever possible, especially in defensive situations. The corps of mercenary troops, both hoplites and peltasts, serving under these commanders provided them with the drilled and disciplined cadres essential to the smooth execution of any sophisticated tactical plan.[50] As a consequence of these developments, tactical barriers of this sort became commonplace in theoretical discussions of territorial defense in the middle of the fourth century. So Plato, in his Laws , recommends that young men detailed each year to see to the protection of the countryside should engage in digging ditches and building barriers to make the invasion of the country more difficult for the enemy, and Demosthenes, in his Second Philippic , mentions palisades, walls, and ditches as some of the various innovations devised for the protection of states.[51]

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The Dema wall is certainly a work of this general class, directly comparable to the ditches (

[Full Size]) and palisades (

[Full Size], or

[Full Size]) employed by Chabrias and Phokion. It was built as a stone rampart rather than as a ditch and palisade because of the nature of the terrain, which provided rock in abundance but little earth to dig or wood to cut. Sally ports in fourth-century fieldworks are specifically mentioned only in the case of the Theban wall constructed in 378, but as a consequence of peltast tactics and more flexible hoplite formations, they must nevertheless have been regular features in works of this sort.[52] The chronological implications of these parallels to the Dema's tactical design are in full agreement with the archaeological evidence for dating the wall no earlier than the last quarter of the fifth century. The fact that Chabrias, a commander of both professional troops and Athenian forces, was most prominently associated with defensive works of this sort raises the possibility that the Dema was constructed under his guidance, a possibility that accords well with the circumstantial case for dating the wall in the first half of the fourth century already proposed above on the basis of the archaeological evidence.

The Northern SectorThe discussion of the dating and interpretation of the Dema wall so far bears only upon the main sector of the wall, where the unity of design and comparative uniformity of structural style (variations in masonry style being randomly scattered and attributable to the work of different gangs of masons) indicate that the work was carried out at one time according to one plan. The simple rubble work of the northern sector, with its continuous line running across ever-steepening slopes, bespeaks a change, either of plan alone or in both time and plan.

All previous investigators have regarded the southern and northern sectors as parts of a single, contemporary work, implying, and sometimes stating, that the change must be explained as a change in plan. Jones, Sackett, and Eliot have advocated this view and have adduced evidence that seems to indicate a degeneration, rather than an abrupt change, from more substantial to more hasty

work in the transition between the southern and northern sectors. This, they argue, is evidence of "some change of plan during construction, possibly connected with some emergency, a need for economy, so urgent as to force a premature cessation of work on the wall."[53] This is an important conclusion, for it

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affects our interpretation of the historical circumstances of the Dema wall. The relationship of the northern sector to the rest of the wall must be examined closely to see if the conclusion that the Dema wall was abandoned before it was completed is justified.

The transition between sectors as defined by Jones, Sackett, and Eliot takes place over about 70 meters of the wall at the end of the southern sector, which lies in the northern saddle just as the slope of Parnes begins. It is marked by a reduction in the height of the wall, a shift to less-substantial construction, and the absence of the regular rubble ramps behind the wall despite the presence, on either side of the last sally port, of curbs normally provided to retain rubble ramps. After this transition, the wall almost disappears and is preserved as no more than foundation traces running in a straight line, without evidence for sally ports. This drastic reduction in the remains of the wall is identified by Jones, Sackett, and Eliot as the beginning of the northern sector. It continues in this reduced manner for more than 100 meters, until remains of the new form of slight and crude rubble wall begin to stand out, usually no more than 0.50 meters high, on the rising slopes of Parnes (see figure 19).[54]

A sudden emergency forcing the abandonment of work on the wall might account for the transition from massive to flimsy construction, but such an explanation is at odds with the fact that this more hastily built wall was continued for almost a kilometer and a half up the slopes of Parnes. Such a continuation of the Dema wall is unnecessary according to the tactical considerations evident in the design of the rest of the wall. The ground over which it runs soon becomes so rough and steep that no hoplite formation could move across it, while peltasts would require no fieldwork to give them a decisive advantage over an enemy ascending the slopes. At its southern end, the wall built in the more substantial manner terminates on Aigaleos before reaching slopes as steep as those across which most of the northern sector is built.[55] The time and effort spent in constructing the northern continuation of the wall could well have been spent on completing a much shorter stretch of the wall with ramps and sally ports. Such a reallocation of labor could easily have extended the wall in the conventional manner for another two hundred meters or so, to a point on the slopes of Parries equivalent to the position of the southern end on Aigaleos. There is no evident explanation why, if haste were needed, the wall should have been extended for such a distance. The fact that it was so extended indicates that haste alone does not account for the northern sector.

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The continuation of the wall in such a manner, without sally ports over steep ground, is not only unnecessary according to the tactical principles evident in the rest of the

Dema wall, it is even counterproductive. Without sally ports, this line made no allowance for the sort of active defense that was at the heart of the plan in the main sector. Control of the high ground beyond the ends of the wall in the pass would certainly have been a concern to the defenders, but on ground as steep as that covered in the northern sector, control would be best assured by having a force of peltasts in readiness on the heights.[56] These could move quickly enough across the slopes to concentrate wherever the enemy might be attempting to storm the heights. A wall of any sort, and especially one without sally ports, would be a definite liability to such skirmishing troops, hampering their movement along the slopes. Equally problematic is the apparent lack of sally ports at the beginning of the northern sector where it traverses more gently sloping ground in the northern saddle. Up to this point, the wall has been built in the style that provides more frequent sally ports to allow concentrated sorties over this near-level and more vulnerable ground, a feature that, as already noted, is a regular principle of the Dema's construction. The complete absence of gates or sally ports after the transition would pose a real problem to the defenders at this point if they expected to operate in front of the wall and to be able to withdraw again at will, as is the plan elsewhere. Arguably, it would have been better to have no wall at all here, just as on the higher slopes, than to have a wall without openings.

In explaining the northern sector as the product of "the belated adoption of an inexpensive, makeshift plan," occasioned by some "sudden emergency," Jones, Sackett, and Eliot have offered no explanation of why the "makeshift plan" should take the form that it does. Nor can an explanation be found that satisfactorily reconciles this very different wall with the defensive scheme evident in the southern sector of the Dema. The possibility that the northern sector is a later addition must be seriously considered. If this sector had been built much later, a matter of generations or even centuries after the construction of the main sector of the wall, then it would be easier to understand how it could so radically depart from the tactical plan of the original wall. The builders of the continuation might well have been insensitive to the tactical subtleties of the original plan or might have faced special circumstances that made the extension of the wall in this form desirable.

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Circumstances that suit the form of the northern sector are readily found if we look to an entirely different era and manner of warfare. In considering the dates of rubble fortifications in Attica, McCredie raises the possibility that some of them might date to the Greek War of Independence.[57] He describes a wall in the ravine called the Cleft Way leading to Delphi, which is known to have been built in 1823 against the Turks by a force under Odysseus Androutsas. The wall is simple rubble, 0.90 to 1.00 meters thick, now mostly ruinous and less than 0.50 meters high where it is freestanding, but in places where it is built as a terrace on steep slopes, it has a face almost 2 meters high. The wall follows a generally horseshoe-shaped course, starting high up the slopes on one side of the valley, curving as it descends to cross the streambed at the bottom of the valley, and continuing to curve in the same direction as it ascends the opposite side. The total length of the wall now preserved is something under five hundred meters, but originally it was probably closer to seven hundred meters. It was built to guard against an enemy coming up the valley from the direction of the open end of the horseshoe. McCredie describes the tactical purpose of the wall as follows:

The flanks, or ends of the horseshoe, which allowed the defenders to surround the attacking enemy, would be of use only to men with rifles. The distance from these ends to the floor of the valley is too great for spears or arrows. The thinness of the wall is notable; the purpose of the wall was to offer a protected place from which men armed with rifles might fire on an advancing enemy, and there is in this situation no point in building a thick wall.[58]

McCredie found the comparison between this wall and other thin rubble walls in Attica to be inconclusive, but a comparison with the northern sector of the Dema, which McCredie did not consider, is instructive. The form of the wall in the Cleft Way, both in the slightness of its construction and in its course, climbing high up and across steepening slopes, is closely comparable to the northern sector of the Dema wall. The ground covered by this sector of the Dema, as is noted above, is suitable only for skirmishing troops, and indeed, only skirmishing troops armed with firearms would have found such a wall to be of any use. Firing from ambush or from behind simple rubble walls known as tambouria was the customary manner of fighting among the Greeks and Albanians of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.[59] No sally ports would have been needed, for charges under fire were not characteris-

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tic.[60] Fire from such a protected position would have been effective in preventing any encircling movement on these slopes around the defenses in the pass. The tactical conception of the northern sector of the Dema thus fits very well with the manner of warfare practiced in Greece during the Turkish era. When contrasted with the evident unsuitability of this wall to ancient warfare, it seems quite reasonable to conclude that this sector of the Dema was a work of the age of firearms. When we note that fighting in the vicinity of the Aigaleos-Parnes pass did in fact take place during the War of Independence, the likelihood that this part of the wall was constructed at that time becomes strong indeed.[61] There may, then, be more of a basis than fanciful pride for the local tradition that the Dema wall is a work of the War of Independence.

If, as argued here, we recognize that the northern continuation of the Dema wall substantially postdates the original construction of the wall, then we can also explain the condition of the wall at its transition between the two sectors, where Jones, Sackett, and Eliot saw evidence that led them to conclude that the Dema as a whole had been left incomplete. The builders of the northern sector obviously did not think that their wall was worth building as carefully or as massively as the southern sector of the Dema. Therefore, they may well have dismantled the adjacent portion of the existing wall for some distance in order to use its stones as building material.[62] The remains of a slight and reduced wall in the northern saddle are more likely the evidence of stone-robbing for this new wall than of a hasty and incomplete original construction.

This scenario provides a more plausible explanation for both the scantiness of the remains in the northern saddle and the remarkably different nature of the northern sector of the Dema than does the conclusion reached by Jones, Sackett, and Eliot. There is no need to conclude with them that the last portion of the Dema wall was built in haste and even ultimately abandoned before construction was completed. Rather, we should conclude that the northern end of the Dema was

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originally built in the same careful manner that characterizes the rest of the work for almost three kilometers across the Dema pass to the south. In its original form, the Dema might have continued a short way beyond the last recognizable independent wall-section. How much further, whether one section or more, must remain uncertain given the considerable disturbance caused by the scavenging of stones for the continuation of the wall. The original wall need not have continued very far, since the slopes of Parnes soon rise steeply enough to form a natural obstacle and defensive vantage point. The irregularities in the plan of the last independent wall-section, with its unique southward-facing sally port and its combination of the features of short and long wall-sections, were almost certainly designed in view of the fact that the Dema was soon to reach its northernmost end.[63]

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ThreeThe Dema Tower

We turn now to another feature of the Dema defenses, the tower located on the higher of the two hills crossed by the wall. Because of its proximity to the wall, the resemblance of its construction to that of the wall, and the apparent suitability of the tower as a vantage point for a view along the wall and beyond, the Dema tower has been considered to be a contemporary and integral part of the Dema wall defenses by every commentator to describe it.[1] In what follows, the evidence of excavation and new observations on the site will be presented in support of the same conclusion regarding the contemporaneity of the wall and tower. With regard to its function, as will be seen, this reappraisal substantially changes our understanding of the purpose of the tower, relating it to a system of mountaintop observation posts along the western frontiers of Attica. Its association with the wall, though reinterpreted, is reaffirmed, and as will be shown, excavation has yielded evidence for the date of construction of the tower which substantiates the circumstantial cases made in chapter 2 for dating the Dema defenses within the first half of the fourth century.

LocationThe remains of the Dema tower rest on the summit of the highest hill in the Aigaleos-Parnes gap, a hill known locally, after the tower on it, as

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[Full Size]

Map 3.The Dema tower and adjacent wall

Pyrgarthi (elevation 225.17 meters).[2] The tower sits behind and above the line of the Dema wall, which passes some 100 meters away at the closest point. The position of the tower would be an excellent one for commanding a view along the entire length of the wall but for the existence of a knoll between it and the wall, 130 meters southwest of the tower (benchmark at elevation 224.75 meters in map 3). This knoll, being nearly the same elevation as the summit on which the tower sits, completely blocks the view of more than 600 meters of the wall, where it runs lower down the slope beyond the knoll (see figures 20-22).[3] Both

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north and south of this obscured stretch, the remaining length of the wall can be seen from the tower site. The knoll itself would have been the most suitable position for a view along the whole length of the wall if it were essential for the tower to have such a view. The importance of this point will be stressed when the function of the tower is considered.

The long-range views from the tower are impressive (figures 21-24). To the southwest, most of the peaks of Salamis are visible above the bay of Eleusis. Eleusis itself is in clear view, and beyond it (weather permitting) the mountains of the Megarid. Westward, most of the Eleusinian plain is in view, bounded by the Pateras range and its outrunners, with the peak of Kithairon on the horizon. Closer to the tower, the view of the nearer edge of the Eleusinian plain is blocked by the southwestern knoll of Pyrgarthi and by the western spur of Kalistiri. The slopes of Parnes dominate the view to the north, as do the slopes of Aigaleos to the south. Immediately east of the tower, between Aigaleos and Parnes, the whole plain of Ano Liosia can be seen, except for a small section of the foreground blocked by an eastern knoll of Pyrgarthi, now disappearing in quarry work. Menidi/Acharnai lies at the far end of the plain, and beyond it the upper end of the Athenian plain is in view, with Mount Pentele dominating the view beyond.

The Tower EnclosureThe Dema tower is surrounded by a low enclosure wall that traces an elliptical course, with irregularities on its eastern and western ends where the enclosure wall bends to incorporate bedrock outcrops into its line. The tower sits on the highest ground, near the southwestern end of the enclosure, while the largest open area within the enclosure is the gently sloping ground northeast of the tower. The interior of the enclosure, like most of this limestone hill, is rocky and uneven, with few level areas. The enclosure wall is built of roughly laid limestone rubble, with traces of its inner and outer faces preserved for most of its circumference. Only in one area, on the southern side of the enclosure (bounding areas 2S, 3S, and 4S in map 4), is the rubble so sparse that no trace of either face can be followed. The width of the wall varies from 1.20 to 1.80 meters, and it stands today to a height of 0.60 meters at its highest points. It probably was never very much higher than this, since only a

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[Full Size]

Map 4.The Dema tower

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small number of stones lie loose around it. No trace of an entrance through the wall is to be found.

Inspection before excavation revealed no evidence for ancient subsidiary structures within the enclosure.[4] The only artifacts to be found were fragments of Lakonian-type roof tiles, scattered throughout the enclosure, but more abundant close to the tower. Excavation within the enclosure was undertaken in an effort to discover datable occupation debris and to ascertain whether or not there were any subsidiary structures associated with the tower. The area immediately south and east of the tower seemed to be the most promising quarter for investigation, since it

was generally covered with a layer of rubble that might preserve features or artifacts beneath it, and the ground here was more nearly level than elsewhere in the enclosure (figures 25, 26). The area immediately north and west of the tower had less rubble cover, and here sterile bedrock could be seen over much of the area. The numerous jagged bedrock outcrops in the open area northeast of the tower made this section seem less likely to yield occupation debris. Work was thus directed toward clearing the rubble and excavating in the areas labeled 2S, 3S, and 4S in map 4.[5]

StratigraphyLimestone rubble covered most of the excavation area to a depth of 0.40 to 0.50 meters, occasionally up to I meter against the face of the tower. This scatter of stones was continuous between the tower and the inner face of the enclosure wall in area 2S, while in 3S and 4S, the scatter generally ended 3 meters from the tower. Roof-file fragments were found

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in this rubble as well as below it, amidst smaller stones on the soil or bedrock surface. Fragments of pottery were also found on the soil or bedrock surface immediately below the scatter of rubble.[6]

Below the rubble, islands of bedrock protruded from the soil, although not so prominently here as elsewhere in the enclosure. The soil around this bedrock, with the exception of dark-gray surface patches formed by the decomposition of plant remains, was uniformly a loose, crumbly red earth, usually mixed with a moderate amount of small stone chips but sometimes free of them. Alongside the tower, and up to two to three meters away from it, this soil frequently contained large concentrations of roof-tile fragments, filling cavities and depressions in the bedrock (figure 27). Roof tiles and earth together formed a layer usually no more than 0.20 meters thick, depending on the contours of the bedrock below. This red earth is certainly the disintegrated debris of sun-dried mud brick which has eroded and washed over the site.[7] Part of this mud brick, however, had been deliberately laid down, with the concentrations of files as a packing to level the ground in connection with the construction of secondary structures to be described below. Sherds were found in this mud-brick debris, both with the concentrations of tiles and in earth relatively free of tiles. It is significant that sherds associated with the tile concentrations were always found among the uppermost files of those packings.[8]

The soil below this, wherever bedrock lay deeper down, was a red earth similar to the mud-brick debris but distinct in that it contained many stone chips and pebbles, all somewhat worn and rounded by water, whereas the chips in the upper layer had rougher edges. This lower soil also contained no sherds or tile fragments except at its uppermost

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level. It is evident that this sterile soil formed the original ground level before the deposition of the mud-brick and tile debris.

Secondary WallsAs the clearing of the fallen rubble around the tower proceeded, remains of four rubble walls were discovered (Walls 1-4, map 4). The packings of tile fragments respected these walls, coming up to but not underlying them, indicating that these walls were built before the roof-tile fills were laid down.

Walls 2 and 4 abut the tower face without bonding into it (figure 27). Both walls probably once formed right angles with Walls 1 and 3 respectively. The continuation of Wall 4 was indicated in the roof-tile fills lying on either side but not intruding into the area where the stones of the wall had been removed (see stippling in map 4). A dense roof-tile fill on the western side of Wall 2 did not extend as far as Wall 1, so here evidence for a corner is less dear.[9] Bedrock nowhere showed signs of having been dressed to form a bedding for these walls or to level the uneven surfaces enclosed by them. Equally notable is the absence of any hard-packed earth or stone-chip floor surface. The only indication that care was taken to provide a level surface in the spaces bounded by these walls and the tower is the presence of the loose packings of roof-tile fragments and mud-brick debris.

Some large roof-tile fragments were found standing upright against the foot of Wall 4, on either side, as well as against the foot of the tower just south of Wall 4. These appear to have been deliberately placed to border and retain the mud-brick and roof-tile fill packed up against these rubble walls.[10] The fact that the tile and mud-brick fills with their crude revetments were the only evidence of leveling for floors associated with Walls 1-4, and even more significant, the fact that a few isolated tile fragments were found built into Walls 3 and 4, wedged among and under the stones of these walls, indicate that the construction of the walls and the laying of the tile and mud-brick leveling fills all belong to the same construction phase. This construction was undertaken when large

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quantifies of broken roof tiles and disintegrating mud brick were available on the site.[11] Since the tower itself is the only structure from which this material could have been taken, it is evident that the walls and associated leveling fills are the remains of a construction phase begun after the tower had fallen into ruin and its roof had collapsed.

The TowerAll that remains now of the tower is a solid circular base built of limestone rubble. The base is founded at ground level, on earth and bedrock outcrops, where it has an average diameter of 7.60 meters. The stones on its face are as carefully fitted as unworked rubble can be, while the solid core is more loosely packed with stones, earth, and limestone chips.[12] The face presently stands an average of 1.36 meters high, and it has a slight inward batter giving the tower an average diameter of 7.40 meters at the top of the preserved face. There is no evidence for a ground-level doorway into the tower, nor is there any trace of interior walls or chambers. The base appears to have been built as a solid platform.

The top of the base has been disturbed. All stones are loose, and a pit over a meter deep has been carelessly dug into the fill of the base for some purpose. As a result of this disturbance, no trace of the original top surface remains, but it is likely that it stood not much higher than its present overall height of 2 meters.[13]

FindsCompared to the ubiquitous roof-tile fragments, the quantity of pottery recovered in excavation around the tower was small. Nevertheless, frag-

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ments of at least eighteen vessels were found, including three black-glazed vessels with complete or nearly complete profiles, one complete beehive kalathos lid, and two intact late Roman lamps. In addition to the identifiable vessels, numerous undiagnostic coarse sherds and a few incised roof-tile fragments preserving portions of gameboards were found. Altogether, these finds make up a significant body of evidence for the nature and date of activity on this site.

Sherds on the surface were usually covered by hard encrustations of lime, making joins nearly impossible. All sherds recovered from the stratum of the mud-brick debris had become discolored and soft, apparently through the actions of soil and water. Black-glazed sherds often had only a few traces of glaze preserved. For these reasons, clay descriptions would be misleading and have been omitted from the catalog. It should be noted, however, that, with the possible exception of no. 6, all of the black-glazed sherds are probably Attic.[14]

Black-Glazed Pottery

1. Cup with high-swung handles Figure A, Figure 29DP -2S-5. Two nonjoining handle fragments, each with part of body at handle base. L. of handle 0.045 m, D. of handle 0.008 m. Body is thin walled, with no sign of articulation or offset for rim in handle zone. Black glaze in and out, inside of handles reserved.

Probably a skyphos or stemless cup with plain rim. These handles are not as high swung and attenuated as those on most shallow-bowled stemmed and stemless cups. This was probably therefore a cup with a steeper wall, such as the stemless cups, Agora XII, nos. 467, 468, which date between ca. 430 and 400 B.C. Cf. also the skyphos illustrated by Richter and Milne 1935, figure 173, cited in Agora XII as a parallel to nos. 467 and 468.

2. Cup Figure ADP -2S-2. Three joining fragments giving a quarter of the circumference of the foot, half of the floor, and part of the lower body. Pres. H. 0.022 m, est. D. of foot 0.07 m. Flaring ring foot, thin-walled floor and body. Light spiral grooves on undersurface. Traces of fugitive black glaze in and out, undersurface probably reserved.

Probably a bolsal or one-handler. Cf. Agora XII, nos. 539 (bolsal, ca. 420 B.C. ) and 755 (one-handler, ca. 400 B.C. ); Agora P 27409 (bolsal, from deposit S 16:1, ca. 425-400 B.C. ; see Holloway 1966, 33-84 and plate 28c). The thinness of the fabric in this specimen, as in examples cited, is

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Figure A

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appropriate in a cup manufactured in the last quarter of the fifth or first quarter of the fourth century B.C. ; cf. the remarks of Corbett 1949, 301-2, and cf. the one-handler no. 74, p. 330 and plate 93.

3. Bowl with incurved rim Figure A, Figure 29DP -2S-l. Nine joining fragments giving complete foot and one quarter of wall and rim and five nonjoining fragments. H. 0.041 m, est. max. D. 0.09 m, D. of foot 0.058 m. Torus ring foot, concave on interior with offset, light wheelmade facets on exterior. Deep body, wall rises in convex curve becoming gradually sharper to the incurved rim. Lip rounded. Black glaze in and out, slightly mottled in firing.

Cf. Agora XII, nos. 838, 889: third quarter of the fourth century B.C. For slightly more developed (and presumably slightly later) examples of this deep-bodied shape, with more sharply incurved rim, cf. Agora XII, nos. 840-42; "Vail House" nos. 28, 31; Miller 1974, no. 31; Thompson 1934, no. A 20; in this last example, the torus foot has become beveled.

4. Bowl Figure ADP -3S-7. Two nonjoining fragments of foot and lower body. Pres. H. 0.024 m, est. D. of foot 0.092 m. Slightly flaring convex ring foot, concave on interior, with grooved resting surface. Undersurface swelling toward nipple at center. Black glaze in and out.

Bowl with incurred rim, type similar to no. 3. For bowls with similar foot, cf. Agora XII, nos. 830, 832, 841, all middle to second half of the fourth century

5. Small bowl Figure A, Figure 29DP -4S-9. Two joining fragments giving complete foot and small portion of wall to rim. H. 0.024 m, est. max. D. 0.08 m, D. of foot 0.054 m. Broad ring foot, convex on exterior, concave on interior. Undersurface has central nipple. Shallow body, curve of wall turning abruptly inward just below rounded lip. Black glaze in and out, resting surface reserved. Incised graffito on undersurface: D or L , or possibly A.

Cf. Agora XII, no. 887: 350-325 B.C. This shape is commonly found with little variation from ca. 375 into the early third century B.C. ; see Agora XII, nos. 883-84, 886-89; Rotroff 1983, no. 5; Corbett 1949, no. 155; Thompson 1934, no. A 18. Examples dated by context earlier in the series usually have a reserved resting surface, as does this specimen; Rotroff 1983, 265, places examples with reserved resting surfaces before ca. 310 B.C.

6. Squat aryballos Figure A, Figure 29DP -4S-8. Eleven joining and four nonjoining fragments of body to base of neck. Pres. H. 0.06 m, max. D. 0.086 m. Flat base, squat body beveled 0.006 m above base. Six-toothed comb used to cover body from neck to maximum diameter with haphazard vertical ribbing. Dipped in thin black glaze, drip line on beveled face leaving base reserved; interior glazed.

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This type of ribbed aryballos imitates the shape and incised ribbing of Corinthian blisterware aryballoi. Examples with closely spaced "linear" ribbing as in this specimen are known at Corinth in true and imitation blisterware fabric, dated to the second and third quarters of the fourth century B.C. ; see Corinth VII.iii, 147-48 and note 17. Cf. the two examples, apparently true blisterware, of the second half of the fourth century published by Broneer 1962, 24-25, nos. 20 and 21, with plate 12 f, and p. 6 on the date; cf. also Agora XII, no. 1681: second half of the fourth century B.C. by context. An imitation blisterware example from Athens is published by Rotroff 1983, 289, no. 45, dated late fourth to early third century B.C. ; it is somewhat more squat and heavy and presumably, therefore, somewhat later than this specimen.

7. Skyphos Figure ADP -2S-6. Fragment of rim. Pres. H. 0.025 m. Convex upper wall with slightly outturned rim. Lip rounded. Black glaze in and out.

Compare the rim profiles in Agora XII, nos. 350-54: second through last quarter of the fourth century B.C. The latest of these types remained in use in the first quarter of the third century; see Rotroff 1984, 347.

8. Kantharos Figure ADP -4S-10. Two joining fragments of rim. Pres. H. 0.033 m, est. D. of rim 0.08 m. Vertical wall flaring to rounded lip. Black glaze in and out.

Type is either a cup-kantharos or spur-handled kantharos with plain rim, which range in date from the second quarter of the fourth to well into the third century B.C. ; see the discussion in Agora XII, 119-20, 122.

Ten nonjoining black-glazed sherds are not identifiable.

Lamps

9. Roman lamp Figure 29DP -4S-21. Five joining fragments giving less than half of lower body. Max. pres. L. 0.06 m. Moldmade lamp with deep body, thin walls, ovoid shape in horizontal section.

Shape is probably that of Corinth IV.ii, type xxviii, 113-14, dating from the middle of the third to the early fifth century A.D. , but too little is preserved to date this specimen with assurance.

10. Late Roman lamp Figure 29DP -2S-19. Complete, worn. H. without handle 0.03 m, L. 0.071 m, W. 0.052 m. Moldmade lamp, plain flat base, deep lower body, concave disc with central filling hole, wick hole in narrow end of ovoid body, rounded vertical handle, H. 0.011 m, at back of body. No decoration preserved.

For shape cf. Agora VII, nos. 2440, 2796, 2806, 2807: late fifth to sixth century A.D.

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Figure B

11. Late Roman lamp Figure 29DP -3S-20. Joining upper and lower halves giving complete lamp, worn. H. without handle 0.037 m, L. 0.075 m, W. 0.056 m, handle H, 0.011 m. Moldmade lamp as no. 10 above.

Coarse Wares

12. Water pitcher Figure ADP -2S-11. Two nonjoining fragments of rim. Pres. H. 0.02 m, est. D. of rim ca. 0.11 m. Outturned, thickened rim, rounded on top, concave below, possibly broken at point where rim springs from a raised ridge around top of neck.

For the shape, cf. "Vail House" nos. 67 and 68, figure 8, p. 382; and Corinth VII.iii, no. 631, plate 24. Evidently of non-Attic and non-Corinthian origin, this type of water pitcher became extremely common from the last third of the fourth century B.C. onward; see the discussions by Thompson 1934, 465, and Corinth VII.iii, 113, with the foreign examples from contexts of ca. 350-250 B.C. cited in note 14. At the Vari house it occurs in an assemblage dated ca. 350-275 B.C. For examples of the later fourth and early third centuries, see Miller 1974, nos. 46, 47, with plate 33; numerous Hellenistic examples are illustrated by Braun 1970, plate 82.2, 3.

13. Water pitcher Figure ADP -4S-12. Two joining fragments of base. Pres. H. 0.012 m, est. D. of base 0.077 m. Flat base thickened to form offset at bottom of wall.

Probably a smaller pitcher similar to no. 12 above.

14. Transport/storage amphora Figure B, Figure 30DP -2S-3. Fifteen joining fragments giving toe and lower body, at least seventeen nonjoining fragments from body as high as the shoulder. Pres. H.

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0.265 m, est. max. pres. D. 0.368 m. Knob toe with shallow depression in undersurface, rounded flange around knob, D. 0.09 m, narrowing above to junction with swelling convex body.

A similar toe comes from the Athenian Agora deposit A 17: 3, which is dated ca. 320-290 B.C. , Agora XII, 383; cf. P 20472, from deposit D 16:1, dated to the fourth century B.C. , Agora XII, 387. A complete amphora with a roughly similar toe was found at Corinth in fill of the late fourth to early third century B.C. ; see Robinson 1969, 10, no. 4, with plate 2 no. 4.

15. Transport/storage amphora Figure B, Figure 30DP -2S-13, DP -3S-15. Large fragment of toe and lower body, many fragments from body as high as the shoulder. Pres. H. 0.24 m, est. max. pres. D. 0.28 m. Knob toe with deep depression in undersurface, rounded flange around knob, D. 0.072 m, concave above in junction with narrow body, gradually flaring to convex profile.

Cf. McCredie 1966, 24 no. 12, and no. 25 in plates 4, 20e: late fourth century B.C. Also similar are Athenian Agora nos. P 20509, from the blind passage of Group B, Thompson 1934, 330-32, which is deposit H 16:3, containing much material of the late fourth century B.C. ; see Agora XII, 393; P 20431, fourth century B.C. , from the NW room of the Poros Building; P 25945, from deposit F 17:3—POU (1): second half of the fourth century B.C. , Agora XII, 390.

16. Transport/storage amphoraDP -4S-16. Eight joining fragments of lower body, toe not preserved, other nonjoining body fragments. Pres. H. 0.22 m, est. max. pres. D. 0.28 m. Lower body similar in shape to no. 15 above.

Numerous coarse body fragments recovered throughout the excavated area are likely to be amphora sherds, although some may be uncombed coarse kalathos sherds (see no. 20 below). Two amphora handle fragments were found, but no neck or rim fragments were identified.

17. BasinDP -3N-27. Body fragment. Single fragment of a large, thick-walled vessel, probably a large basin. Horizontal relief band on exterior, with attachment point for a horizontal handle immediately below relief band.

Possibly a beehive. Cf. the "Orestada" vessel, a basin with horizontal handles from the Rachi site near the Isthmus of Corinth, dated ca. 360-240 B.C. , Broneer 1958, no. 42, with plate 14b; for its identification as a beehive, see Kardara 1961, 264-65, with plate 81 figure 6; cf. also "Vari House" 399, with plate 78c. The identification of the "Orestada" vessel as a beehive has now been questioned; see Crane and Graham 1985, 160-61. Regardless of the original purpose of basins like this specimen or the "Orestada" vessel, it is possible that this specimen was a basin used as a makeshift beehive; cf. note 20 below.

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18. Beehive kalathos lid Figure 31DP -2S-4. Twenty-seven fragments giving complete lid, chips missing. D. varies from 0.40 to 0.405 m. Lid flat on inner side, outer side has two concentric relief bands, D. of outer band 0.285 m, D. of inner band 0.135 m, around a central boss. Crescent-shaped indentation in edge of lid, 0.04 m across, 0.015 m deep. Four holes piercing lid are set in pairs alongside the outer relief band; pairs are opposite each other, in line with the indentation on the edge, each pair of holes 0.08 m apart. Raised lug, H. 0.016 m, extends along the outer relief band between the two holes nearest the identation; outer relief band on side opposite lug is raised slightly to form a second lug.

The association of lids of this type with combed kalathoi, as no. 20 below, and their interpretation as ceramic beehives have been established in the publication of the Vail house in Attica; see "Vail House" 397-414, 443-52. Cf. also Agora XII, 217-18. Beehive lids and combed kalathos fragments are illustrated in "Vari House" figures 13, 18-21, and plates 75-77, 83-86; known parallels are listed in note 21, p. 398; on the form and function of the lids, see 409, 446. The examples from the Vari house are dated by their context to between the third quarter of the fourth century and the first quarter of the third, pp. 414-18. There seems to be little chronologically significant variation in details of shape and size in beehive kalathoi and their lids between the late fifth century B.C. and the Roman period.

19. Beehive kalathos lid Figure 30DP -2S-22. Single fragment, broken all around. Max. pres. L. 0.143 m. Lid without concentric relief bands. Deeply impressed epsilon in what is probably the center of the upper side, H. of letter 0.053 m, L. of upper and lower crossbars 0.045 m, center crossbar shorter. Trace of hole in lid at broken edge farthest from epsilon.

The identification of this fragment as a beehive kalathos lid with an impressed epsilon in the center is assured by comparison with the larger fragment of such a lid in the collection of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens (provenance unknown), illustrated in figure 30. This fragment of nearly half a lid, est. D. 0.38 m, has a crescent-shaped indentation in its outer edge, 0.027 m deep, adjacent to which is a lug or ledge, H. 0.008 m, L. 0.075 m, tangent to two holes piercing the lid. At the center of the lid is an epsilon, partially broken away, impressed while the day was wet with a blunt tool, not a stamp. L. of lower crossbar 0.048 m, center crossbar shorter. The clay of this lid is buff (5YR 7/6 reddish yellow) with red inclusions.

20. Internally combed beehive kalathoi Figure 31DP -2S+3S-23, DP -4S-24. Twenty-five fragments, mostly nonjoining, of bases and bodies, no rims. Average est. D. of bases 0.19 m. Base and body fragments completely or partially covered on interior surfaces with vertical combing.

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Figure C

For identification of these as ceramic beehive fragments, see no. 18 above. One base fragment is in the collection of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens, a surface find from the Dema tower, site A-19.

Miscellaneous

21. Incised gameboard on roof tile Figure C, Figure 32DP -2S-25. Three joining fragments, broken all around, of Lakonian-type pan tile with streaky black glaze on concave side, as no. 24 below. Max. pres. L. 0.142 m, max. pres. W. 0.075 m. Square gameboard, almost half preserved, incised after firing on the unglazed convex side, oriented at a 45º angle to original sides of tile, roughly parallel to the top and right-

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hand broken edges of the fragment. Gameboard is formed by three concentric squares with sides bisected by perpendicular lines. L. of side of outer square 0.10 m, L. of intermediate square 0.08 m, est. L. of inner square 0.06 m. On glazed side of tile are two lines meeting at right angle, incised after firing; these are oriented

parallel to the original sides of the tile, as indicated by the direction of the streaks of glaze and the curve of the tile as it approaches the lateral edge.

The game represented is Nine Men's Morris, a two-player game, also known as Mühle, or the Mill, and as Morelles, or La Merelle. On the play of the game and its wide popularity in antiquity, see Bell 1960, 93-95; cf. also Baran 1974, 21-23. The closest example known to me of this game in time and space to those of the Dema tower occurs at Gordion, incised on the underside of a reused block built into the foundation of the paved court for the Persian gate of the sixth century B.C. , published by Young 1955, 12, and figure 25 in plate 6.

22. Incised gameboards on roof tile Figure C, Figure 33ASCS A-19. Single fragment, broken all around, of Lakonian-type pan tile, as no. 24 below. Max. pres. L. 0.125 m, max. pres. W. 0.091 m. Glaze not preserved. Lines deeply incised after firing on concave side to form gameboard, about half preserved. Gameboard is similar to no. 21 above, but design is less carefully executed and the configuration is rectangular rather than square; diagonal lines are added to connect the adjacent corners of the concentric rectangles. On the convex side are one or more attempts to outline a similar gameboard, without the diagonal lines, more lightly and more carelessly incised. This sherd is in the collection of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens, a surface find from the Dema tower, site A-19.

See no. 21 above. The variant of Nine Men's Morris with diagonal lines at the corners is also known today; see Gibson 1970, 32-33.

23. Incised roof tile Figure C, Figure 32DP -4S-26. Single fragment, broken all around. Max. pres. L. 0.072 m. Fragment of a black-glazed Lakonian-type roof tile, as no. 24 below, with hatched lines incised after firing on glazed side.

Possibly a tally; cf. Talcott 1935, 516 figure 28c, and Lang 1956, nos. 2, 3, 63, and 84.

24. Lakonian-type roof tiles Figure DThousands of fragments of red- and black-glazed Lakonian-type roof tiles were recovered. There were no complete tiles, and none were restored to their full lengths. The most complete restored example of a pan tile has a width of 0.50 m, a max. pres. length of 0.735 m, and a max. thickness of 0.016 m. The best-preserved example of a cover tile has a width of 0.23 m behind the thickened lower rim, a max. pres. length of 0.28 m, a max. thickness of the lower rim of 0.034 m, and an average thickness of

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Figure D

0.015 m. Thickness of fabric and details of rim profiles are variable, but the figures cited here and the pieces illustrated in figure D are representative of the whole lot, with the exception of the unusual, asymmetrical curve of the rim of the illustrated pan tile; typical examples have a symmetrical profile following the curve of the right rim of this tile.

These are typical examples of Lakonian-type roof tiles, the dimensions and profiles of which are fairly uniform through the classical, Hellenistic, and early Roman periods. Attention to details of glaze, fabric, and profile might allow more precise dating of roof tiles of this type. DEMA 185 n. 120 cites the opinion of Mrs. Carl Roebuck that the files of the type found at the Dema tower are datable to the fourth century B.C. See the examples cited by Orlandos 1955, 103; Martin 1965, 68-70; Olynthus VIII, 232, and figure 17, A and B; Stevens 1950, 174-88; "Dema House" 84-85, with notes 9-11. On the basis of the measurements cited in these works, the restored length of both cover and pan files from the Dema tower should be an average of 0.95 m, and it is probable that the cover files had one end, the upper, narrower than the other, tapering from 0.23 m to about 0.19 m. There are in fact cover tile fragments with both lighter rims and sharper curves than that of the illustrated example, and these would have been the upper rims of the cover tiles. Pan tiles may also have had a taper from 0.50 to about 0.45 m in width, but no measurements could be made from the joined fragments to confirm this possibility.

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25. Twisted lead strip Figure 33Two fragments of a lead strip, pointed at one end, twisted into a coil. The strip bears no trace of an inscription. Edge of the strip appears to have been cut by a sharp instrument. Apparently a piece of waste material that had been trimmed off and discarded.

DiscussionTwo phases of building and occupation on the site of the Dema tower are distinguishable on the basis of the structural remains: the phase of the tower and the phase of the secondary structures formed by Walls 1-4 adjacent to the tower. The contexts of the roof-tile fragments and of the mud-brick fill, debris from the collapse of the tower reused in the secondary structures, make it certain that these were consecutive phases.

Excavation was undertaken with the hope of discovering closely datable occupation debris from the original use of the tower, and in this respect, the results were initially disappointing. Because of the extensive secondary activity on the site, no undisturbed contexts of first-phase material could be found. The walls and tile packings of the second phase might have covered debris left from the first phase, but no pottery sherds were found buried within or under the tile packings and walls, so there is no pottery that can be associated by context with the tower phase of the site.[15]

Find contexts do establish a clear connection between many of the pottery sherds and the phase of the secondary structures. Sherds found on top of the dense roof-tile fills adjacent to Walls 1-4 could possibly be first-phase debris that, by chance, was left on top of the files after they were laid down, but more likely they were deposited there only after those fills were in place. This likelihood becomes a virtual certainty in the case of a vessel with many fragments, all found in the same spot on top of a tile packing. The building of the secondary structures, and especially the laying of the tile and mud-brick leveling fills associated with those structures, involved considerable displacement of earlier debris. It is highly improbable that many fragments of any vessel left over from the original occupation of the tower would have remained together in one place on top of the tile packings after the secondary structures were

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built. The same reasons make it unlikely that a substantial number of fragments of an older vessel would have remained undisturbed in one place in the immediate vicinity of the secondary structures during the building and use of those structures. There is no evidence for extensive clearing or construction on the tower site after the abandonment of the secondary structures, so it is reasonable to expect that debris left when the secondary structures were abandoned should be relatively undisturbed. These considerations make it possible to identify the majority of the pottery sherds as debris from the secondary occupation of the tower site.

All fragments of nos. 5 and 6 (black-glazed wares), 9 and 10 (Roman lamps), 13 (water pitcher), and many of the beehive kalathos fragments of no. 20 were found on top of tile packings. Disregarding the Roman lamps as much later material, nos. 5 and 6 both date to the middle or second half of the fourth century, which is possibly also the date of the chronologically less diagnostic coarse sherds, nos. 13 and 20. The aryballos no. 6 is almost three-quarters complete as restored, and all fifteen of its fragments were found together in one place, on top of the tile fill south of Wall 4 close to the tower. As noted above, the find context of the many sherds of no. 6 indicates that it came to rest after the tile fill was laid down. Indeed, this vessel is almost certainly debris left from the period of use of the secondary structures. The two fragments of the black-glazed bowl no. 5, of the same date and

from a similar find context as no. 6, support this conclusion, and it is borne out by the analysis of other finds.

The many sherds of three, or possibly four, different artifacts found together as a group provide a second significant context, evidently an abandonment deposit. All identifiable sherds belonging to the black-glazed bowl no. 3, the amphora no. 14, and the beehive lid no. 18 were found in immediate contact with each other, buried within mud-brick debris atop bedrock and under rubble in a small area on the southern side of Wall I (figure 28). The three sherds of the black-glazed cup no. 2 were found very close to, but not directly contiguous with, this deposit. The most remarkable artifact in this group is the complete lid no. 18, all twenty-seven fragments of which were found in place, where the lid had been smashed and left undisturbed until its discovery. The beehive lid is not closely datable, but parallels from datable contexts (such as the Vari house; see discussion under catalog no. 18) demonstrate that this type of lid is very much at home in the period established by the latest closely datable vessel from this deposit. This is the black-glazed bowl no. 3, the shape of which, restored from fourteen fragments, shows that it is a type characteristic of the second half of the fourth century. This date is con-sonant with the parallels for the amphora no. 14, of which at least thirty-

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two fragments of the body and toe were found. The black-glazed cup no. 2 dates at least a half-century earlier than no. 3. Because of its date and the smaller number of fragments and proportion of the vessel pre-served, this specimen may well be first-phase debris left by chance in the vicinity of the deposit of later material.

This deposit, dumped here in the second half of the fourth century, confirms the conclusions to be drawn from the material found on top of roof-file fills, namely, that pottery of the second half of the fourth century is associated with beehive fragments and is found in contexts no earlier than the phase of the secondary structures. Indeed, this comparatively abundant material can be identified as debris from the abandonment of the secondary structures.

The rest of the sherds from the tower site were found scattered individually, either in rubble on the surface of the ground or buried in loose mud-brick or tile debris that was not part of a leveling fill associated with the secondary structures. Find contexts therefore have no bearing on the association of these sherds with either structural phase of the site, but comparison of the dates and types of these sherds to those from significant contexts allows most of the remaining pottery to be associated with the period of use of the secondary structures. The rest of the beehive kalathos sherds listed under no. 20, the lid fragment no. 19, and possibly the basin no. 17 can be placed in the group of artifacts associated with the secondary structures. The black-glazed sherds nos. 4, 7, and 8, though not so closely datable as nos. 3, 5, and 6, can easily be placed in the second half of the fourth century and are therefore most likely also part of this group. Likewise, the water pitcher no. 12 and the amphoras nos. 15 and 16, though even less closely datable by themselves, can also be associated with this group through the parallel vessel types of nos. 18 and 14.

There are, however, finds of uncertain association with this large group and other finds that stand apart from it. The lead strip no. 25 is neither datable nor from a context that would dearly associate it with the secondary structures. It may be

debris from this phase of the site, but it need not be. The incised roof-file fragments, nos. 21-23, were found in ambiguous contexts, on the surface and in loose tile and mud-brick debris. As roof files, they are certainly material left from the first phase of the site, but they may have been incised at any later time. Arguments will be presented below for identifying these incised files as reused construction debris from the first phase of the site. Only nos. 1, 2, 9, 10, and 11 unambiguously stand apart from the material associated with the second phase of the site by reason of their dates. Nos. 1 and 2 are black-glazed vessels distinctly earlier than the pottery associated with the second-phase structures and are therefore probably debris from the

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original period of use of the tower. Nos. 9, 10, and 11, the Roman lamps, are evidence of activity on this site long after the abandonment of the secondary structures.

Altogether, therefore, excavation has yielded evidence for at least three phases of activity on the Dema tower site: the phase of the tower, in which the roof files were originally employed and with which the incised roof tiles and the cups nos. I and 2 are most likely to be associated; the phase of the secondary structures, associated with the reuse of the roof files as leveling fills and with the majority of the pottery; and later activity that accounts for the Roman lamps. Before considering the original form, function, and date of the Dema tower, it will be useful to interpret the evidence for subsequent activity on the site, since that secondary activity provides a terminus ante quem for the date of the original tower.

The Secondary StructuresThroughout the excavated area, fragments of internally combed beehive kalathoi were found, both body and base fragments, described under catalog no. 20, as well as one fragmentary but complete beehive lid, no. 18, a fragment of a second lid, no. 19, and a fragment of a basin, no. 17, a vessel that might also have been used as a beehive. Beehive kalathoi were probably laid horizontally in stacks, either enclosed in a frame of some sort or built into a wall, to provide them with shade and insulation.[16] Given the prevalence of beehive fragments on the site, it is certain that at least one purpose of the secondary structures was to house stands of beehives.

The hills around the Dema today still abound in wild thyme, eminently suitable grazing for honeybees, and before the arrival of heavy industry and the city dump, this area was noted for beekeeping.[17] It

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must have been so in antiquity as well. The suitability of the area and the availability of building material on the site of the abandoned and at least partially collapsed Dema tower evidently prompted some beekeeper to bring his hives to this spot to construct shelters for them.[18] The solid rubble base of the tower provided a wall to

build against and a break against the strong north wind. Stones were on hand for wall building, available either from the base itself or perhaps from the enclosure wall nearby.[19] Tile fragments in abundance were available to fill the irregularities in the bedrock, as well as mud brick, which might also have been used as packing around the hives as they were stacked. Very likely, enough sizable tile fragments could be salvaged to form a crude roof over the hives.

The remains of the secondary structures are too scant to show if they might have had any function other than sheltering beehives. Given the suitability of the site for this purpose, it is quite likely that beekeeping was the only reason for the reoccupation of the Dema tower site. When we consult the finds, it is noteworthy that there are no fragments of vessels associated with food preparation—for example, cooking vessels, mortars, large lekanai—which suggests that this was not primarily a habitation site. We might speculate that the several drinking cups, small bowls, water pitchers, and juglet were the accumulated discards from the daytime visits of the beekeeper. The amphoras may have been stor-

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age vessels kept on the site, but it seems likely that they too were used as makeshift beehives.[20]

As to the date of this secondary activity, it has already been noted that the finds associated with this phase can be dated to the second half of the fourth century. The better-preserved specimens, nos. 3, 5, and 6, in fact find their closest parallels in examples dated by Agora XII and Corinth VII.iii to the third quarter of the fourth century. It is now recognized that some of these examples regarded as characteristic of the third quarter were in use as late as the end of the fourth century, but none of them, and therefore none of the specimens from the Dema tower, needs to be dated later than ca. 300.[21] The water pitcher no. 12 may be the latest artifact of this group. It is a Hellenistic type, the earliest appearance of which is not clearly established, though it seems to become common within the last third of the fourth century. Considering that this specimen may make a date close to midcentury unlikely, we can, with reasonable probability, place the secondary activity on the tower site somewhere within the period ca. 340-300.

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Later ActivityThe Roman lamps, nos. 9-11, provide the only datable evidence of activity on the Dema tower site after the abandonment of the secondary structures. Nos. 10 and 11, both the same type, date to the late fifth or sixth century A.D. No. 9 seems to be earlier, possibly by as much as two centuries. The absence of other identifiable Roman pottery or any traces of building activity suggests that the lamps were left on the site by occasional visitors who did not occupy the site for any prolonged period of time. It seems likely that these were votive lamps, left at the ruins of this hilltop tower which, by the Roman period, must have looked much as it does today, that is, a circular stone heap conspicuously placed on a hill-top. The remains might have

been taken for an ancient altar, a tumulus, or some such venerable relic.[22] Roman lamps have been found at other mountaintop sites in Attica where there are classical remains, so it is not surprising that they should appear in this context as well.[23]

The appearance of the ruined Dema tower in later times might well have led people to believe that it was a tumulus over a grave, suggesting that treasure of some sort lay buried within. If so, this might explain why the top of the rubble base of the tower is so thoroughly ruined and why a hollow has been dug out of its rubble fill. The deliberate disturbance of other mountaintop tower sites demonstrates that digging of this sort did take place.[24] This digging probably occurred after the lamps had

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been left on the site, since all of the lamps were found buried beneath a thick layer of rubble that must have been thrown from the tower.

First Phase: The TowerAs it was originally constructed, the Dema tower stood by itself on the hilltop, surrounded by the enclosure wall. There is no evidence that any other structure adjoined the tower or stood elsewhere within the enclosure. The rubble enclosure wall was probably not very high and cannot in any event have been designed as a defensive perimeter, for it is too insubstantial and encloses only a small area with no significant natural strength to recommend it as a defensive position. The wall probably served simply to define the precinct of the tower, the area within which men detailed to the tower were bivouacked. The enclosure wall probably never stood to a height of much more than 0.60 meters in stone. It probably had a superstructure, more likely a brushwood charax than a mud-brick wall, which would suffice to keep grazing animals out of the bivouac area.

The mud-brick and roof-file debris found around the base of the tower originally came from the walls and roof of the tower. The erection of mud-brick walls atop a solid rubble base some 2 meters high suggests that the tower was intended to be as lofty as was practicable using the simplest and most economical of building techniques. A mud-brick structure standing two stories above the base seems likely. A third story is possible, especially if timbers were used to reinforce the mud-brick walls, but this is certainly the maximum that could be allowed for mud-brick walls standing on loosely joined rubble. We may imagine, there-fore, that the Dema tower originally stood close to 8 meters in height if it had two stories, or as much as 11 meters if it had three.[25]

Entrance to the tower and interior communication between its stories were likely provided by wooden ladders, since no trace of stone steps was found built into or against its tall rubble base. If we introduce evidence from the Hymettos tower, the remains of which are similar to those of

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the Dema tower (see figure 34), then it is likely that the Dema tower had a massive central pier taking up as much as half the space within the first story, providing a firm bedding for a central post that probably sup-ported the roof and that might have continued upward as a mast to carry signal flags. The topmost story must have been well provided with windows for observation and to allow flags to be sent up the mast.[26]

The round shape of this tower gave it more stability than a rubble and mud-brick tower with corners would have had. The roof, however, must have been square in plan, since the roof tiles used in it were canonical rectangular tiles. It may have been single pitched, double pitched (gabled), or pyramidal in form. Each possibility raises questions about how a square roof was erected above a round wall. What little evidence there is suggests that a pyramidal roof was used.

A pyramidal roof would have had the advantage of having all edges of the roof at the same level, that is, with no raking cornices, and would have been the easiest type of roof to erect on a round building. A pyramidal roof is in fact the simplest approximation, in a roof of rectangular files, of a conical roof, which would have required specially shaped tiles.[27] Even so, a pyramidal roof would have required some of its rectangular tiles to be modified in shape. Pan tiles running down the lateral edge of each of the four triangular facets of the roof would need to be trimmed along a 45-degree line in order for each facet to fit flush against the adjacent facets. Since Lakonian-type tiles have distinct upper and lower ends, the trimmed upper portions would have been discarded. This may well have provided the source of the fide fragments used for the incised gameboards, nos. 21 and 22, and possibly 23, for it is note-worthy that no. 21 is a gameboard incised on a tile fragment with one edge broken along a 45-degree angle to the original sides of the tile. The find contexts of these reused tile fragments do not associate them with any particular phase of activity on the tower site, but it would be most appropriate to assume that they were incised by the idle hands of men on long and uneventful shifts of duty at the tower in its first phase.

Of the pottery finds, only nos. 1 and 2 can be associated with the first phase of the Dema tower. All fragments of both were found in area 2S, where the three fragments of the gameboard no. 21 were also found. The cup no. 1 is represented by two handle fragments, one found on the surface of the ground beneath rubble and the other found a few

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meters away, buried in the mud-brick stratum near where no. 2 was found. The handles are from a type of cup produced no later than the end of the fifth century, very probably within the last third of that century. The three fragments of no. 2 were found close by the deposit comprising nos. 3, 14, and 18. The vessel form of no. 2 is not precisely identifiable from the preserved portion, but enough remains to show that this was a type of cup manufactured ca. 420-400. The interval of more than a half-century between the dates of nos. 1 and 2 and the datable pottery associated with the secondary structures clearly separates these pieces from the second phase of the site. Since these cups are unlikely to be merely stray pieces left on this barren hilltop before any structure existed here to make the spot a focus of human activity, these pieces can be identified as debris from the original use of the tower. They provide evidence that the first phase of the Dema tower is to be placed no earlier

than ca. 425 and probably no later than a generation after the end of the fifth century, that is, within the range ca. 425-375.[28]

The evidence of these sherds fits closely with the terminus post quem for the date of the Dema wall established by the Dema wall saltcellar. Taken together, the saltcellar and cups 1 and 2 establish a fairly narrow chronological range within which the construction of the Dema defenses is to be placed. The saltcellar indicates that a date within the last quarter of the fifth century is possible but that a date after the beginning of the fourth century is more likely (appendix I), and the cups nos. 1 and 2, as

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first-phase occupation debris from the tower, indicate that a date any later than ca. 375 is unlikely.

This conclusion corresponds well with the terminus ante quem provided by the material from the second phase of the site. After its initial use, the tower was abandoned for a sufficient length of time that it fell into ruin, and its debris was reused by a beekeeper to provide shelter for his stands of beehives. The most probable period for this reoccupation of the tower site, ca. 340-300, indicates that original construction of the tower should probably be placed before the middle of the fourth century. A construction date within the first quarter of the fourth century would allow an adequate interval for the tower to have become dilapidated and clearly useless as a watchtower by the time the beekeeper arrived.

Excavation of the Dema tower has thus yielded evidence, corroborated by the Dema wall saltcellar, indicating that the construction of the Dema wall and tower might be placed as early as the last quarter of the fifth century and more probably is to be placed within the first quarter of the fourth century. This agrees well with the analysis of other archaeological criteria and with the evidence for the tactical plan of the wall discussed in chapter 2. This conclusion is based in part on the assumption that the Dema wall and tower were built at the same time as part of the same defensive scheme. The demonstration of this assumption depends upon an understanding of the function of the Dema tower and of its fundamental importance to the defensive scheme embodied by the Dema wall.

Purpose of the Dema TowerThe Dema tower has generally been considered to be a command post for troops manning the Dema wall. Arguments in favor of this view are presented by Jones, Sackett, and Eliot:The Dema represents one general defensive scheme adopted for the whole pass, based on fluid tactics of counter-attack along a very wide front; it could not operate properly without an effective supervision, exercised from some central vantage point. The tower is the one point behind the wall which commands the greatest length of its undulating course, and was therefore suited for the observation of any hostile advances, and the signalling of local counter-attacks; for a Dema headquarters it was the best (and only) site.[29]

This explanation is founded on the dual premises that the defense of the Dema required a central command post and that the Dema tower

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was located in the best (and only) spot to serve such a purpose. Both of these premises are false, the second most obviously so, since it can be disproved by simple observation on the spot.

As was noted in the first section of this chapter, the position of the tower on the highest point of Pyrgarthi leaves more than 600 meters of the wall near the tower concealed behind a secondary summit of Pyrgarthi (figures 21-22). Even if the tower originally stood as much as 11 meters high, not much more of the wall could have been seen from it.[30] This is a serious objection to the command-post theory. If the purpose of the tower required it to have a view of the entire length of the wall, as it would if it were to observe and signal operations along the wall, then it could have been built on the very secondary summit, only 130 meters away, which blocks the view from its actual site. The fact that the Dema tower could have been but was not so situated is sufficient to refute the command-post explanation.

It is quite doubtful that defensive operations along the Dema wall could have been effectively controlled from a central vantage point, even if the Dema tower had provided such a vantage. Visual or audible signals were effective in conveying only a limited number of previously agreed-upon messages, and on the battlefield signals might prompt the commencement of certain prearranged maneuvers but were usually no more than trumpet calls for the advance or the retreat.[31] Polybios observes that the sort of simple signal systems employed in his day were useless in the face of unforeseen circumstances, and the point certainly applies to signals on the battlefield, where the opportunities for surprise and confusion would be the greatest.[32] It is no wonder, then, that no example of an army commanded by signals from a central vantage point can be cited as a parallel for the supposed purpose of the Dema tower. It is significant in this connection that even in the defense of a city-wall perimeter under attack, Aeneas Tacticus assumes that the commanding general will be on the battlements leading his troops wherever they are hardest pressed and not issuing commands by signal from some headquarters, even though he expects that such a commander will have a signal post from which a general alert signal can be seen over the whole city.[33]

In addition to regarding the Dema tower as the command post of the Dema defenses, previous investigators have believed that signal com-

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munications between the Dema and Athens would have been desirable and that the Dema tower served as the signal point at the wall.[34] Everywhere within the Aigaleos-Parnes gap, the view of Athens is blocked by the northern end of Mount Aigaleos, so some intermediate relay station would have been necessary for signals to be passed between the Dema tower and Athens. On the northernmost summit of Aigaleos, there are remains of a tower that has long been associated with the Dema defenses, and this has been interpreted as the relay station for communications between the Dema and Athens (maps 2, 5; figure 35).[35] From the Aigaleos tower there is a clear view of Athens, but it is impossible to see the Dema tower or any part of the main sector of the Dema wall because the summit of the mountain is too broad to allow a view into the valley to the north. Nor could the two towers ever have been tall enough to be in view of each other over the intervening shoulder of Aigaleos.[36] Other positions on the Aigaleos ridge would have been suitable for such a relay

station between the Dema tower and Athens, if such communications were desirable, but the actual Aigaleos tower is not appropriately located to serve this purpose. Furthermore, there is no evidence that any such relay station was built, either on Aigaleos or elsewhere.[37] There is there-fore no reason to believe that the Dema tower ever served to communicate between the Aigaleos-Parnes gap and Athens.

The Dema tower provided a sheltered vantage point for a few men in a prominent position within the Aigaleos-Parnes gap. Since it must have been an observation post of some sort, it should be possible to see even now the places that were to be observed from the tower. We have just noted why it is doubtful that the tower was intended to communicate by signal with Athens and why it could not have served as a command post for the Dema wall. Considering the view beyond the wall, it is also apparent that the tower could not have been very effective in observing the movements of an enemy force approaching the wall, since like the view

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of the wall itself, the nearer approaches to the wall are not all visible from the tower (figures 21-22). Furthermore, because it is well within the confines of Attica, it is highly improbable that the tower was meant to be a position from which enemy troop movements could be first detected. The tower could have served, however, as a post where men waited to receive and acknowledge visual signals coming from other observation posts closer to the frontiers of Attica.

The far side of the Eleusinian plain and the mountains of the frontier beyond are clearly in view from the tower site (figures 21-22, see also map 5, p. 99). Within this view, the town of Eleusis can be seen to the southwest, and to the northwest, the low summit of Plakoto and, above it, the higher summit of Velatouri stand out, marking the sites of fourth-century towers (see figures 37-40).[38] From the Velatouri tower, Panakton, Oinoe, and Eleutherai can be seen, and from these positions other outposts closer to the western frontiers are visible, making up a network of observation and signal posts through which the arrival of an enemy force on the frontiers could have been signaled to the interior of Attica. Signals coming to Eleusis from Salamis, or to Velatouri and Plakoto from the Kithairon frontier, could have been relayed across Aigaleos to Athens by the Aigaleos tower or by its companion on the summit of Korydallos to the south of the Sacred Way.[39] But the Dema tower, which could also receive these signals from the west, is in a very different position from these and other mountaintop towers in Attica. It sits not on a peak with wide long-distance views on all sides but on a hilltop that is comparatively enclosed within the Aigaleos-Parnes gap. Except for the nearer ground within the pass itself, it commands no view not already better surveyed from the Aigaleos tower. This very exception, however, pro-vides the decisive clue to its purpose: the Dema tower served to link the lookout and signal system of the western frontiers directly to Athenian forces at the wall in the Aigaleos-Parnes gap.

The Dema tower must have been built because it was of particular importance that signals from the west should be received and answered from the area of the Dema wall. As discussed in the previous chapter, the wall was only useful when it was manned by a sizable army. Since the defensive scheme of the Dema wall envisioned occasions when an army would be in place at the wall, it would clearly have been desirable for that army to receive the same warning signals or intelligence that might be sent from the frontiers to Athens. And since the commander of that

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army must have been empowered to initiate actions in response to those signals, it would have been important for signals to be sent back from the Dema to Eleusis and to the outposts on the frontiers. The Dema tower was eminently suited to such a purpose. Located on the highest summit within this pass, it would have been readily visible and accessible to forces assembled in the vicinity of the Dema wall, and its position could easily have been discerned from afar. It must therefore have served as the communications center of a major Athenian military camp at the Dema wall.[40] The Dema tower was thus integral to the defensive scheme of the Dema wall, and furthermore, it was integral to a scheme that called for the placement of lookout and signal towers elsewhere in Attica.

Other towers, noted briefly above, indicated in map 5 below and illustrated in figures 34-40, are appropriately situated for the purposes of the lookout and signal system envisioned here, and these, on the evidence of masonry and surface sherds, were in use within the fourth century. Like the Dema tower, they are round, with solid rubble-filled bases. These resemblances and their functional suitability provide sufficient evidence to consider it probable that these lookout towers were employed along with the Dema wall as part of an integrated scheme for the defense of Attica. The Dema wall and tower are the most specialized works in this defensive system, and the interpretation of the whole depends upon a demonstration of the specific historical function of these key works. Chapter 4 will therefore bring together all of the various forms of evidence and lines of reasoning that, on historical as well as archaeological grounds, converge on the Boiotian War of 378-375 as the time of the creation of the Dema wall.

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FourThe Date of the Dema Wall

Among previous investigators, opinions have varied as to whether the Dema wall was constructed in haste or at leisure and whether it therefore was built to face some sudden emergency or to be a more permanent line of defense.[1] A balanced judgment on the subject is possible only in light of the thorough study by Jones, Sackett, and Eliot, whose opinion thus supersedes earlier views on the subject. Objections to their view that the wall was abandoned before work on it was completed have been raised in chapter 2. Otherwise, one can agree completely with their evaluation of the character of the wall. The degree of care demonstrated in the planning and construction of the main sector of the Dema indicates that the work was carried out, in their words, "methodically and without undue haste."[2]

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As to the nature of the danger that this tactical barrier was built to counteract, their conclusions again seem to characterize the situation well:The Dema is a result . . . of a war crisis and a threat of invasion. The particular danger, although it may not have been immediate, demanded strong counter-measures. The wall was to safeguard Athens in a campaign and was not thrown up for a single pitched battle.[3]

Accordingly, the placement of the Dema was not determined by the fortuitous positions of two opposing armies on one particular occasion. Just as its design was evidently conceived through scrupulous attention to certain tactical principles, so its location must have been determined ac-cording to a comprehensive assessment of defensive requirements in a particular crisis.

Jones, Sackett, and Eliot assume that the wall was built by Athenians for the protection of Athens. An alternative possibility, namely that the wall might have been built by a Macedonian army campaigning in Attica, was raised by McCredie. The archaeological evidence now available definitely excludes a date as late as the Chremonidean War of 268-262, which McCredie advocated.[4] In fact, any date later than 322, when Athens first fell under Macedonian domination, is decidedly unlikely. The archaeological evidence for the date of the wall strongly supports the view that the Dema was a defensive work of the independent Athenian state, built as part of a plan for the defense of Athens and the greater part of Attica which lay behind the wall. Attention to the strategic advantages provided by the Dema wall should, therefore, tell us a good deal about the nature of the threat that it was built to counteract.

The Strategic Purpose of the Dema Wall.The Dema wall was built to enable an army to prevent an enemy force in the plain of Eleusis from entering the plain of Athens. Since all other passes between these plains are considerably narrower than the Aigaleos-Parnes gap, only this pass needed to be fortified in order to assure the defenders a decisive advantage over the attacking enemy. Such a defensive stance clearly implies that the enemy was known to be numerically superior and therefore too powerful to meet in pitched battle in the plain. In order for the Dema to have been useful in any comprehensive plan of defense, there must have been no obvious routes toward Athens circumventing the Dema that were left open to the enemy. This

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[Full Size]

Map 5.Routes and passes across the Attic-Boiotian-Megarian frontiers

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implies that the enemy—did not have decisive control of the sea and that no major overland routes other than those crossing the plain of Eleusis were directly accessible to the enemy.

The only routes not crossing the plain of Eleusis that could give an invading army access to Athens and southern Attica are the routes by way of Phyle, Dekeleia, and Aphidna in the north of Attica.[5] The Phyle route involves long stretches up and down steep slopes and through narrows within Mount Parnes and therefore would never have needed a fieldwork like the Dema wall to make it defensible. Likewise, the Dekeleia road, though not as long as the mountain way past Phyle, is sufficiently steep and rugged that it could be regarded as naturally defensible. The passes through Aphidna, however, on the route of the modern National Road, provide an open way into Attica that would be at least as easy for an army as the way through the Aigaleos-Parnes gap. Here, if the northern frontier were as exposed to danger as the western, one would expect that a barrier similar to the Dema would have been built. The pass on the north side of the Aphidna basin is the most defensible gap on the Aphidna route, and here the rocky slopes within the pass afford both the same sort of defensible terrain and the same durable building materials that were utilized in the Dema. The absence of any such fieldwork here, or anywhere else along this route, indicates that this northern quarter was not considered to be subject to the same threat of invasion as was the plain of Eleusis.

The outlook of the Dema tower lends support to this conclusion. From the tower, several outposts toward the western frontiers can be seen, but none toward the north. The outposts that do exist along the northern frontiers bear no resemblance to the Dema tower, are not intervisible with it, and almost certainly were not built at the same time as the system to which the Dema tower belongs.[6] If, as has been argued, the Dema was the base for an Athenian army that was

prepared to react to signals indicating the approach of an enemy force, then the absence of any signal connection with the northern frontier indicates that the enemy was not anticipated in that quarter. Like the wall itself, the Dema tower and its visual contacts indicate that the crisis which led to the con-

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struction of the Dema involved the possibility that Attica would be invaded specifically by way of the plain of Eleusis.

The main routes into the Eleusinian plain are the road from the Megarid and the Peloponnese along the coast, and the road from Boiotia across Kithairon by way of Eleutherai and Oinoe.[7] Any army that was able to invade Attica from Boiotia by crossing Kithairon would likely have been able just as easily to enter Attica via Aphidna.[8]Since no defenses seem to have been prepared along the latter route, it seems unlikely that the enemy was Boiotian or any power able to move at will through Boiotia. That being the case, the source of danger most likely lay in the Peloponnese.[9]

If Attica in fact lay under threat of invasion from the Peloponnese, it may be asked why so considerable a fortification was built in the Aigaleos-Parnes gap rather than closer to the Megarian frontier. The answer emerges when we consider the nature and complexity of the routes through the western frontiers of Attica. An army coming from the Peloponnese could have used either of the two major routes entering the plain of Eleusis, the coastal route from Megara or the route through Kithairon, which was followed by Archidamos in 431. Moreover, the mountain terrain west of the plain of Eleusis is complex, and several minor routes might have proven useful to an invader seeking to outflank a defensive position.[10] To build permanent fieldworks across any one of these routes would thus have been futile, while to fortify all of them would have been wastefully expensive. On the other hand, all routes through these western mountains pass through terrain where the ways are so constricted that practically no artificial barriers would have been

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needed to add strength to a defending force's position. If a stand on this frontier seemed desirable, strong positions could be held without fortifications.[11]

The construction of the Dema wall in the Aigaleos-Parnes gap, therefore, is intelligible in terms of a strategy for the defense of Attica against an invasion from the Peloponnese that might have provided for the positioning of advanced forces at key points on the western frontiers but that did not commit Athenian forces to a decisive stand either in the mountains of those frontiers, where they might have been outmaneuvered, or in the plain of Eleusis, where they might have been outnumbered. The decisive battle, if it came to that, would be fought as the enemy attempted to pass Mount Aigaleos, in which case the action would certainly center on the Aigaleos-Parnes gap, which was the most obvious way for a large army to enter the plain of Athens from the plain of Eleusis. It was through this pass that the army of Archidamos entered the plain of Athens in 431, and very likely it remained the route for invading Peloponnesian armies throughout the Peloponnesian War.

[12] Closing this gap would mean that no army from the Peloponnese could occupy and plunder the whole Attic countryside as the Spartans had in the Peloponnesian War.

The connection between Spartan strategy in the Peloponnesian War and the strategic concerns that led to the construction of the Dema wall is more than fortuitous. When we consider what has been deduced from the nature and placement of the Dema wall, together with its probable date as indicated by purely archaeological evidence, everything points to Spartan power as the threat to Attica that the Dema was designed to counteract. The only power from the Peloponnese whose forces on land were known to be numerically superior to those of Athens was Sparta, at the head of its Peloponnesian alliance. From the end of the Peloponnesian War until the third decade of the fourth century, Sparta was at the height of its power, and twice during that period, Sparta and Athens were at war.

In the first of these conflicts, the Corinthian War of 395-386, the Athenians chose to fight the Spartans because they calculated that the war would be fought well beyond the confines of Attica, as in fact it was. With their resources committed to other strategies that, for defensive purposes, were consistently successful, it is extremely unlikely that the

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Athenians would have diverted manpower and money to the creation of a defensive network within Attica itself.[13] The second conflict with Sparta, the Boiotian War, was thrust upon the Athenians by a chain of circumstances that culminated in an actual invasion of Attica by the Spartan harmost Sphodrias. Thereafter, the course of the war was predictable. It was expected that Spartan armies crossing the Isthmus would march against Thebes, but they might also invade Attica, since the Athenians were now fighting together with the Thebans against Sparta. With Theban and Athenian forces planning to resist the Spartans in the vicinity of Thebes, the Athenians could feel reasonably confident that a Spartan army would not easily march through Boiotia to enter Attica from the north. The threat to Athens lay in the possibility that Agesilaos would repeat the strategy of his father, Archidamos, and invade Attica through the plain of Eleusis.[14]

Here are circumstances that exactly match the evident strategic purpose of the Dema wall and the tower system associated with it. The Boiotian War began in 378, a date that tallies with the archaeological evidence favoring a date in the first quarter of the fourth century for the Dema. The tactics implied by the form of the wall, as discussed in chapter 2, are known to have been common at the time of the Boiotian War. The network of towers and outposts west of the Dema tower would precisely suit the defensive concerns of the Athenians after the lesson of Sphodrias' raid was learned. Finally, the closest known parallel to the Dema is the wall built around Thebes in the first year of this war, and the Athenian commander most closely associated with fieldworks of this sort was Chabrias, who distinguished himself for his tactical sagacity at Thebes at the outset of this war. The circumstantial case is therefore extremely strong that the Dema wall was built after the raid of Sphodrias to safeguard Athens during the Boiotian War and that Ghabrias had a significant role in the design of this fieldwork.

Two general points still require demonstration before this strong circumstantial case can be regarded without reservation as the explanation of the Dema wall. The

first is that it be shown that the Dema wall and tower system accord well with what is known of the tactical and strategic

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principles of territorial defense at the time of the Boiotian War, and the second is that it be shown that no other event within the archaeologically permissible dates has an equal or stronger claim on likelihood.

Contemporary Principles of Territorial DefenseThe appropriateness of the Dema wall to the defensive principles of the time of the Boiotian War has already been partially demonstrated through the comparison in chapter 2 of the Dema to the Theban stockade and to other works associated with Chabrias. The demonstration is complete when it is seen how well the Dema system exemplifies the precepts of defensive planning found in the writings of Aeneas Tacticus, Xenophon, and Plato, all of whom were practitioners or observers of military science at the time of the Boiotian War, and all of whom wrote within a generation of the end of that war.

The most derailed extant fourth-century handbook on defensive preparations, and the one most relevant to our purposes, is the work by Aeneas Tacticus.[15] In this treatise, Aeneas is chiefly concerned with how a commander should prepare the defenses of a city at war which was liable to undergo a siege, but he also devotes attention to the problem of repulsing an attacking army in the field before the city itself is invested. Aeneas' precepts in this connection concern just the sort of circumstances that must have occasioned the construction of the Dema wall, namely, a "war crisis and a threat of invasion."

Under normal circumstances, Aeneas expects defending forces to be assembled only when the approach of the enemy is announced by messenger or by signal. Since the invading army must come in sufficient strength to overwhelm the defenders in pitched battle, Aeneas advises the defending commander to "attack the enemy where you are not unwilling to do battle, and where you will not be at a disadvantage in the fight."[16] This means that under most conditions, the defending commander will have to allow the enemy to proceed with his plundering until the opportune moment or place for a counterattack is reached. Only where the terrain of the frontier is suitable does Aeneas suggest that advance preparations might be effective in keeping an invading army out of the countryside altogether:

― 105 ―And should the countryside not be easy to invade, but have few and narrow passes into it, you must prepare these in advance, distributing forces as has already been described, in order to oppose at the passes those who are attacking and planning to march upon the city, while men who can communicate by signal fires the fortunes of each division are already in position, so that these divisions can bring support, if in any way they need one another's help.[17]

The distribution of forces referred to by Aeneas involves the occupation of high ground by light troops, the use of cavalry patrols, the preparation of ambushes, and the positioning of bodies of hoplite troops where they can advance to support those

who engage the enemy first.[18] The building of fieldworks might be among the preparations that Aeneas has in mind, although he does not specifically mention such here. Separate divisions of defending forces will have to prepare themselves at appropriate points along each of the approaches, and a signal system must be established so that any one division under attack can be sup-ported by the others as needed. As Aeneas recognizes, such preparations are viable only if the defensive positions can be few and strong:Otherwise, if the countryside should not be difficult to invade, but it is possible for large forces to invade at many points, you must occupy advantageous places in the countryside so as to make it difficult for the enemy to advance upon the city. But if there are no such places, you must occupy whatever positions near the city are useful for fighting at an advantage while allowing you to retire at ease whenever you wish to withdraw to the city.[19]

For Aeneas, topography above all dictates the actions to be taken by defenders facing a full-scale invasion.[20] The particular composition and

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relative strengths of the opposing armies are not of central importance in Aeneas' reckoning because these factors are predictable, within broad limits, and can be taken for granted. The invaders will have a strong army, numerically superior to the defenders, while the defenders themselves will have an army of some size (possibly including allies and mercenaries) that is made up of appropriate proportions of heavy and light infantry and cavalry.[21] Within this general framework, and given the fore-thought that Aeneas' writings were meant to inspire in a commander, the defenders' strategy would be largely determined by the opportunities afforded by local terrain.

The essence of Aeneas' advice on the defense of territory is that an invading army can be halted only where the defenders can occupy strong ground along the invader's route, compelling the enemy to give battle on terms advantageous to the defenders. Aeneas assumes that narrow passes might provide defensive positions strong enough that even a division of the defending force could hold off the entire invading army, although any division sent to guard a pass before the arrival of the enemy will probably have to be reinforced when a direct assault on its position appears imminent. In general, a committed stand can be made only where the defenders are reasonably sure that the enemy cannot circumvent their position and cut them off from their own city. So wherever more than one pass must be guarded, the defending commander must judge the risks of being outmanuvered by the enemy, who might attack at several points, against the strengths of his own positions in determining whether or not to allow his forces to give way before the enemy and in deciding where to commit his main strength to battle.

The defensive strategy underlying the placement of the Dema wall and the various watchtowers in communication with it, as discussed in the first section of this chapter, accords very well with these precepts. Given the large extent of Attic territory, and especially the complexity of the topography toward the Megarian frontier, the Aigaleos-Parnes gap is indeed the most advantageous point to occupy in anticipation of an enemy,

[Full Size].[22] The fact that Aeneas does not specifically mention the preparation of fieldworks like the Dema is no objection to seeing such tactical devices employed in his scheme.

We know that such fieldworks were used in his day, and it is quite possible that Aeneas did discuss them elsewhere, in writings which have not survived.[23]

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Xenophon discusses the defensibility of Attica in terms that correspond with significant aspects of Aeneas' advice and with the strategy evident in the Dema wall. In the dialogue from the Memorabilia quoted at the beginning of chapter 1, Xenophon notes that "great mountains reaching Boiotia protect our country, through which the passes are narrow and steep, and . . . the interior of our country is divided by sheer mountains."[24] The light troops that should hold these mountains for the Athenians, according to Xenophon, were essentially those ephebes and peripoloi who did in fact guard Attic strongholds and patrol the frontiers to protect Attic land from minor raids and depredations by the Boiotians, whose animosity posed a constant threat to the Athenians during the 360s and 350s, when this passage was written.[25] But the passage is also evocative of the light troops who guarded these passes in 378-375, beginning with those under Chabrias at Eleutherai in the winter of 379/8 and culminating with those who repelled the forces of Kleombrotos on Kithairon in 376.[26]

It is especially relevant to note Xenophon's reference in this context to the mountain barriers in the interior of Attica which, when defended, would also constitute substantial obstacles to an invader. The Aigaleos range, dividing the plain of Eleusis from the plain of Athens, was and is foremost in importance among these, and the strategic value of defending the Aigaleos-Parnes gap in particular must have been clearly recognized when Xenophon wrote this passage. It may well have been a defensive position for the Athenians at the time of the invasions of Kleomenes in 506 and of Pleistoanax in 446, both of which penetrated no farther than the plain of Eleusis.[27] The gap was the passage for Ar-

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chidamos in 431, when the Spartans began a series of general invasions of Attica. The young Xenophon probably had personal experience observing the operations of the Peloponnesian army during the last years of the Dekeleian War, when he served as a cavalryman.[28] He would have been only one among many Athenians to notice the ways in which the terrain of Attica constrained, at certain points, the movements of the massed forces of the Peloponnesians.

Like Xenophon, Plato also recognized the value of a force trained for mountain fighting in the defense of a state with mountainous frontiers.[29] Writing in the Laws of a hypothetical state to be founded in the rugged terrain of Crete, Plato recommends not only that its citizens be trained as hoplites and cavalrymen, but also that they be drilled in skirmishing tactics with light arms and that they practice capturing positions and ambushing the enemy.[30] Young men are to be chosen by officers to spend two years of duty on patrol in the countryside, with the particular object of becoming thoroughly familiar with the terrain they may have to defend.[31] One of the tasks of these young men is to construct field-works of a type generally comparable

to the Dema wall, "so that the countryside will be well barricaded against the enemy."[32]

The importance of topography for defensive planning is recognized by Plato in much the same way as it is by Xenophon and Aeneas. All three writers, in fact, advocate very much the same approach to territorial defense, and together they embrace all aspects of strategic and tactical planning evident in the defensive scheme of the Dema. They assume that defending forces will be composed of an appropriate balance of hoplites, light infantry, and cavalry, and Xenophon and Plato make special mention of the utility of light-armed infantry for fighting in broken terrain. This overall composition of forces, and the emphasis on light-armed infantry, is entirely appropriate to the defense of the Dema in particular and of the passes of the frontiers to the west in general. A two-tiered defensive scheme involving the positioning of flexible advanced units in the mountains of the frontiers and the establishment of a second, more unyielding, defensive line along Aigaleos and in the Aigaleos-Parnes gap accords well with the general advice of Aeneas and

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the specific observations of Xenophon on Attic topography. The need mentioned by Aeneas for signal communication among these defensive units is satisfied by the system of signal posts related to the Dema tower. The use of fieldworks to reinforce the natural barriers of the country-side is specifically recommended by Plato. We may conclude that the strategy behind the construction of the Dema wall as outlined in this chapter is not only plausible but is typical of defensive theory and practice current in the second quarter of the fourth century.

The approach to territorial defense comprised in these doctrines of Aeneas, Xenophon, and Plato is a distinctive feature of fourth-century military theory and practice, distinctive especially for the Athenians by contrast to the policy and practices they had adopted under the guidance of Perikles during the Peloponnesian War.[33] As useful as the experience of Athens during the Peloponnesian War was as a rhetorical foil for fourth-century politicians, however, it is most unlikely that practical doctrines of territorial defense evolved in the fourth century simply as retrospective reactions against the failure of the Periklean strategy for the defense of Athens in the fifth century. The particular defensive strategies advocated in these writings of the 360s and 350s must have been developed in practice, where they had actually demonstrated their appropriateness to contemporary conditions. In fact, these circumstances may be recognized in the events of the Boiotian War.

From the outset of that war, light-armed troops attempted to hold mountain passes against invading armies; fieldworks for territorial defense were deployed around Thebes; mountaintop lookouts and signal posts were employed.[34] Although none of these elements was without precedent before the Boiotian War, all of them were integrated for the first time into a comprehensive strategy for the defense of Thebes (and, as argued here, Athens) against Peloponnesian forces in 378. By contrast, the strategies of these same states in the Corinthian War were much more traditional. That war opened with a series of pitched battles and soon lapsed into a prolonged war of attrition. At no time during the Corinthian War did all of the elements of territorial defense as described above come into play. But with the outbreak of the next war among the major powers of Greece, the Boiotian War, they

are all employed, and examples of similar defensive preparations may be cited in the decades immediately following.[35] This is the period when the most distinctive

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features of fourth-century defensive strategy were put into action, features that, by the middle of the century, could be considered standard practice.[36] The evidence, both historical and archaeological, indicates that the Dema wall was a product of the original formulation of this strategy in 378.

Limits of the Archaeological EvidenceThe previous section has demonstrated the singular appropriateness of the Dema defenses to the circumstances of the Boiotian War and has presented reasons why the preceding Corinthian War was decidedly less likely to have seen the deployment of this defensive system. The historical and archaeological possibilities for the date of the Dema wall are by no means thus exhausted, for the archaeological evidence discussed in chapters 2 and 3 has limited the possibilities only to the range of ca. 425-375.

Archaeological evidence is always to some degree subjective, however, and is therefore always liable to alternative interpretations. In this case, it must be pointed out that the significance of the relationships between the tower and wall, and between the cup sherds, catalog nos. 1 and 2, and the tower, are established by arguments, not by irrefutable demonstration. Although it is doubtful that any strong argument could be found to dissociate the Dema tower from the Dema wall, it would be easier to dismiss the cup fragments as irrelevant strays (though again, arguments would have to be offered to counter the case made here). If these sherds could be so dismissed, then the lower terminus for the date of the Dema system would move to at least ca. 350, and a date well into the second half of the century could not be absolutely excluded—the

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date would only need to be earlier than the date of the reuse of the tower, which could be as late as ca. 300.

On the other hand, another analysis might leave unchallenged the association of the cup sherds nos. 1 and 2 with the original use of the tower but might differ in assessing the implications of their date. It is conceivable that one might argue that the cup sherds do not permit a date as late as ca. 375 and that something closer to 400 should be the lowest acceptable terminus for the date of the wall. Here again, though, the evidence and arguments cited in chapter 3 (see especially note 28) would have to be countered. Ultimately, however, with material as slight as this, and especially when arguments might seek to discriminate between dates as close as a quarter-century, the imprecision and subjectivity of the archaeological evidence does not allow a firm decision. The acceptance of the case that has been consistently advanced up to this point, namely, that the Dema wall belongs to the era of the Boiotian War, ultimately depends upon a convincing demonstration by arguments

from historical probability that no other occasion within the broadest chronological limits allowable is either suitable or likely.

To those who may find themselves persuaded by the arguments so far adduced in favor of the date of 378, it may seem otiose now to review the possible alternative occasions from the last quarter of the fifth to the last quarter of the fourth centuries. The skeptic, however, needs no apology for the exercise. For in constructing an argument such as this which combines such various forms of evidence, it is essential that the comparative strengths of each argument and class of evidence be established so that it will be clear, in any case of real or perceived contradiction between argument and evidence, which has priority over the other. Potential disagreements with the interpretation of archaeological evidence advanced here have been noted above. They derive from the subjective nature of archaeological evidence. If one were to argue that the archaeological evidence either allows alternate possibilities or even excludes the explanation advanced here, then one must also demonstrate that one or more alternative occasions or explanations suit the evidence as well as or better than the scenario advanced here. If, in such a historically well-documented period, no such occasions or explanations can be found, then any objection on archaeological grounds to the interpretation of the Dema wall advanced here is unfounded.

This point is of considerable importance, for it entails the deduction of a cumulative proof of the date of the Dema wall. In this process, the associations on which the foregoing arguments have been founded, namely, that the Dema tower is integral to the wall and that other mountaintop towers were integral to the Dema defenses, and further, that the cup sherds, catalog nos. 1 and 2, were debris from the original use of

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the tower, are all validated on the strength of the historical evidence (which is quite independent of the archaeological evidence in this case). This demonstration has implications beyond the subject and the monuments under consideration here, for it establishes a fixed point of reference for archaeological criteria such as techniques of fortification, masonry styles, and even pottery chronology. The last is potentially the most important archaeological implication of this study. For although at present the collection of pottery associated with the primary date for the Dema wall and tower is almost absurdly minuscule, there is little doubt that in the course of time more work on related towers and outposts in Attica will reveal more pottery to be associated with this point in time, and the accumulation of material will then become significant.

There is also little doubt, however, that the study of other Attic towers and outposts will prove complicated. The Dema tower has already revealed two distinct phases of activity within the space of a century, and this tower has every likelihood of having had one of the simplest histories of any such mountaintop outpost in Attica. Almost all others, once established, very likely were frequently reused for various purposes through-out the late classical and Hellenistic periods, as the evidence of sherds on the surface at many of these sites makes plain. The archaeological evidence, as its study progresses, is thus bound to be complicated even on such small sites. A historically fixed point at the Dema tower, however slight the archaeological material initially associated with it may be, is therefore of great importance for future work on Attic watchtowers and related sites.

In establishing the date of a monument such as the Dema wall, there-fore, the archaeological evidence is only indicative. It serves to show approximately where, in time, the historical occasion is to be sought. That occasion can only be found through historical inquiry.

Alterative Historical OccasionsCould the Dema wall actually have been built for, or during, the Peloponnesian War? That suggestion has been advanced in the past, though never defended, and in fact it can easily be excluded from consideration. In the first place, the saltcellar found in the wall establishes strong evidence for a date later than the Peloponnesian War, but it does not absolutely rule out the possibility of a date as early as ca. 425. On this evidence, the wall could not have been built before the war only to be abandoned, but it could only have been built after the last Spartan invasion of the Archidamian War, which took place in 425. There is little reason to believe that the Athenians would have employed such a wall at that time, how-

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ever, since it would have been so contrary to the still-successful policy of Perikles of refusing hoplite battle. Still less is there reason to believe that the Athenians had any need for such a wall after 425, since they held Spartan hostages from Pylos, and by threatening to execute these, Thucydides reports, they successfully dissuaded the Spartans from invading Attica until peace was made in 421.[37]

There is likewise no reason to believe that the Athenians built the wall in anticipation of the resumption of hostilities in 413. The Athenians made no attempt to resist the Spartan invasion in that year, and any intention of confronting the Spartans on land was directly contrary to the mood that, according to Thucydides, prevailed at Athens when the Sicilian expedition was dispatched.[38] After 413, the presence of the permanent Spartan camp at Dekeleia would have made it both pointless and impossible to construct such a wall at any time during the later course of the war.

To these considerations we may add that the Dema tower, by itself or with the wall, likewise makes no sense under the conditions of either the Archidamian or Dekeleian War. Its outlook was too restricted and it was too vulnerable to attack for it to have been useful as a permanent installation from the period of these wars. The vantage points of other towers, particularly those around the plain of Athens, might have been used by lookouts during the Archidamian War on occasions when Peloponnesian invasions were anticipated, and more regularly during the Dekeleian War, when lookouts kept watch on the activities of the Peloponnesian garrison at Dekeleia.[39] But a tower or watchpost within the Aigaleos-Parnes gap would have been highly vulnerable to hostile forces abroad in the countryside and could have served no purpose not better served from other vantage points. A permanent watchpost in the Aigaleos-

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Parnes gap is comprehensible, like the Dema wall itself, only in terms of a strategy for resisting, at that point, an invasion coming across the western frontiers of Attica. No such strategy existed during the Peloponnesian War, so that era is thus ruled out from consideration.

In view of the archaeological evidence that indicates a date not far from 400 for both the wall and the tower, namely, the saltcellar from the wall and the cups, catalog nos. 1 and 2, associated with the first occupation of the Dema tower, another possible occasion for these works must be considered. This is the suggestion, first proposed by Skias, modified by Kirsten and Kraiker, and now advocated again by Lohmann and others that the Dema wall was built by the Athenians to protect Athens and its surroundings when Eleusis was under the administration of the oligarchy of the Thirty and their most loyal followers, from 403 until 401/0.[40] Once again, historical circumstances are decisively against this possibility.

In terms of the functional interpretation of the defensive work, the only recommendation for this suggestion is that, like the political situation in 403-401/0, the Dema wall reflects a division between Athens and Eleusis. In moving from this simple observation to a closer consideration of the political and military circumstances, the inappropriateness of the wall becomes apparent. In the first place, the wall is not a static boundary or barrier, but as has been noted, it is a tactical device for the support of an army in battle. Likewise, it has already been observed that the planners of the Dema wall envisioned the advent of an enemy too powerful for the Athenians to confront on open ground. These characteristics in no way correspond to the relationship between Athens and Eleusis in 403-401/0.

During the period that Eleusis was under the administration of an oligarchic enclave, Athens and Eleusis were not two independent and hostile states. The Eleusinians retained their Athenian citizenship, and more important, they retained their property rights. Since, according to the agreements of 403, the Eleusinians were specifically prevented only from entering the city of Athens (and they were allowed to do even this if they submitted to legal accounting procedures), it is clear that the Eleusinian oligarchs were permitted, at least legally, free access to all parts of Attica wherever, outside of Athens, they might have had prop-

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erty or business.[41] Moreover, from a military standpoint, the men of Athens were far more numerous than the oligarchs of Eleusis, and when hostilities between the two parties did occur, they consisted of a peremptory and preemptive expedition from Athens against Eleusis, a situation which so overwhelmed the oligarchs there that they entered into immediate negotiations rather than offering battle.[42] Athenian concerns in 403-401/0 would therefore never have required and, in view of the potentially offensive message it would send to Sparta, could never have justified the construction of the Dema wall.[43] The implications of the Dema tower again affirm this conclusion. In chapter 3, it was demonstrated that the tower served only to receive and respond to signals coming from Eleusis or from the frontiers beyond Eleusis, which is senseless under the circumstances of 403-401/0.

Arguments for excluding the era of the Corinthian War have been briefly stated above but deserve closer attention here. The Athenians chose to ally themselves with the Boiotians in making war on Sparta in 395 because they believed that their alliance would be the basis of a powerful confederacy of states that could carry the

war against Sparta into the heart of the Peloponnese. Proof of their confidence lay in the fact that they began the war with the fortifications of Peiraieus and the long walls to Athens still in ruins, which left Athens, always dependent upon the sea, dangerously vulnerable if the Spartans were ever to advance on Attica in force.[44] By the summer of 394, when the alliance was put to the test, reality was not so encouraging to the Athenians. It eventually became clear that the battleground would not be in Arkadia or Lakonia but in the Corinthia, uncomfortably close to Attica. Under these circum-

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stances, shortly before the two sides met in battle near Corinth, the Athenians began the reconstruction of the walls of Peiraieus.[45] These fortifications, and the long walls joining Peiraieus to Athens, were essential to the defense of Athens if the war in the Corinthia ever took a disastrous turn. Work on them was costly and proceeded slowly, despite a considerable infusion of Persian money and manpower brought by Konon in 393. Bricks were still being laid on the Peiraieus walls in 392/1, and it is probable that the long walls were not yet far along at that time. Ultimately, work on the Peiraieus fortifications was never even finished during the Corinthian War, for we learn that at the time of Sphodrias' raid in 378, the gates of Peiraieus had no doors.[46]

Expense is only half of the explanation for the slow progress of the refortification of Peiraieus. The other half lies in the Athenian strategy for the Corinthian War, according to which the Spartan army was to be prevented from crossing the Corinthian Isthmus. By concentrating sufficient forces at Corinth, the Athenians kept war away from Attica, and as long as their strategy was successful, there was no real urgency to complete even such vital fortifications as the circuit of Peiraieus and the long walls.[47]Only once did the Athenian strategy seem threatened, when, in 392, the Spartans under Praxitas captured the Corinthian harbor of Lechaion, opened a breach in the Corinthian long walls, and captured the towns of Sidous and Krommyon on the Isthmus, thus opening the road to Megara and Attica. Rather than launch an invasion, how-ever, the Spartans invited the Athenians and their allies to consider terms of peace, and in 392/1, ambassadors were exchanged to discuss the matter. After giving the situation serious consideration, the Athenians rejected the Spartan overtures and resumed their defensive strategy in 391 by recapturing Lechaion and repairing the long walls of Cor-

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inth.[48] Lechaion was recaptured by the Spartans in the same year, and in 390, Agesilaos attempted to show the Athenians that he could circumvent Corinth by marching to Perachora and Oinoe on the Isthmus. With skill and daring, the Spartans were thus able to raid the far reaches of Corinthian territory, but they were far from threatening Attica. The mercenary and hoplite forces maintained by the Athenians at Corinth required opposing forces to be maintained by the Spartans at Sikyon and Lechaion and thus prevented the Spartans from assembling a strong enough army for an outright invasion. The victory of Iphikrates and his mercenaries over Spartan

hoplites between Corinth and Sikyon put an end to Agesilaos' momentary advance onto the Isthmus, and the ensuing recapture of Sidous, Krommyon, and Oinoe by Iphikrates marked a further setback for the Spartans, who never again attempted to operate beyond Corinth.[49]

The war around Corinth, therefore, was tenaciously pursued by the Athenians because they recognized that as long as Athens maintained a stronghold on the Peloponnesian side of the Isthmus, the Spartans would be unable to march on Attica. Along with their commitments to Corinth, the highest priority of the Athenians for the security of Athens was the rebuilding and manning of their navy. Maintenance of these two armaments, the mercenaries at Corinth and the navy, were the greatest financial burdens for the Athenians, and the scarcity of funds for even these essential commitments goes far to explain the slow progress on the Peiraieus fortifications, which must be ranked a distant third in their priorities.[50] Under these circumstances, there were neither the resources nor the need to build a wall in the Aigaleos-Parnes gap.

The state of Athenian defenses at the beginning of the next war with Sparta, in 378, provides the most decisive evidence that the Dema defenses were not in existence before that year. Athenians had collaborated with the Theban conspirators in the overthrow of the Spartan garrison at Thebes in the winter of 379/8, and Athenian forces again stood to arms on their frontiers when Kleombrotos marched into Boiotia in his unsuccessful attempt to save the garrison. After Sparta had been thus

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provoked, and a powerful Spartan force had been established under Sphodrias at Thespiai, the Athenians (for reasons to be discussed in chapter 5 below) suddenly affected a conciliatory stance toward the Spartans. While negotiations with Spartan ambassadors were under way at Athens, Sphodrias launched a surprise attack against the Athenians by marching at night across the Kithairon frontier and through the plain of Eleusis in an attempt to seize Peiraieus. He failed only because the distance was too great for his march to be completed before daybreak. His army was reported to Athens by those who chanced upon it, not by any regular lookouts.[51]

If the Athenians already had the system of lookout towers referred to in the previous chapter, then it is inconceivable that they would not have been manned and ready under the conditions of early 378, when, as Xenophon reports, the Athenians were so fearful of the power of the Spartans now that war was on their very borders (Hellenika5.4.19). Even if the Athenians were making strenuous efforts to placate the Spartans, they could hardly have afforded not to use established watchposts toward the Kithairon frontier if they already existed. The circumstances of Sphodrias' raid indicate that no such regular watchposts had yet been established. The Dema wall and the Dema tower in particular were dependent upon those advanced watchposts, and therefore they cannot yet have existed either. No event could have demonstrated more vividly to the Athenians the need for vigilance against the Spartans than Sphodrias' raid. The primary thesis of this part of the present work is that the defensive network of towers and outposts associated with the Dema wall, and hence the wall itself, was established as a direct result of the raid of Sphodrias, as part of the general mobilization of the Athenians for war with Sparta that followed that event.

The peace treaty of 375 brought a momentary halt to the war between Athens and Sparta and relieved the Athenians of the burden of mainraining their

[Full Size]"watchposts of the countryside," according to Xenophon (Hellenika 6.2.1). The full meaning of this reference will be considered below in chapter 5, but here we may note that this release from watchfulness provides a terminus ante quem for the establishment of the watchtowers associated with the Dema defenses. Thereafter, although parts of the outpost system were certainly again put to use, there was never an occasion that made the defense of the Aigaleos-Parnes gap so vitally important as it had been in 378-375. Therefore, it is decidedly unlikely that the Dema wall was actually built after 375. This point requires demonstration, however, and not mere assertion.

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With the resumption of Spartan-Athenian hostilities between 373 and 371, all fighting took place well beyond the confines of Attica, and it is exceedingly unlikely that the Athenians would have manned their territorial defenses at the same level as before 375. In 371, with the peace at Sparta, significant realignments of power and of Athenian defensive concerns were brought about. With that peace treaty, the Athenians disengaged themselves not only from the war with Sparta but also from their commitments to the Thebans, with whom relations over the pre-ceding years had become progressively more strained. The Athenians, now at peace with Sparta and its allies, stood aloof from the confrontation between Peloponnesian and Theban forces at Leuktra in 371 and the Theban operations in the Peloponnese that followed. By 369, in response to appeals from Sparta and its allies, the Athenians joined the Spartans in an alliance and sent forces into the Peloponnese to support them against the Thebans.[52]

By this turn of events, the Athenians and the Thebans became openly antagonistic toward each other. That relationship persisted for the next thirty years, although hostilities were mostly pursued by proxy and actual fighting between Thebans and Athenians took place only on a few occasions, well away from the confines of Attica and Boiotia. Yet the threat of direct conflict was often serious, especially during the height of the Theban supremacy in the 360s.[53] Might this enduring condition of mutual antagonism have resulted in the construction of the Dema wall?

The first objection to the association of the Dema with the Theban threat to Attica is that the Dema is part of a system which protects Athens and the greater part of Attica against a danger that lay specifically to the west. As discussed earlier in this chapter, there is no evidence that measures comparable to the Dema were taken along any of the northern approaches to Athens. The Thebans certainly could have menaced Attica from the north, and after the Theban seizure of Oropos in 366, the threat to this quarter must have been as apparent as anywhere else along the Attic-Boiotian frontier. If, as all evidence indicates, the Dema wall was built according to a comprehensive plan of defense in a particular crisis, then that crisis

could not have involved a threat from Thebes unless the defensive scheme was left incomplete.

Let us suppose for a moment that the Dema was built as part of a system that was never completed. A decision to build such a defensive

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system would have to have taken into account the fact that such fortifications could not be built in one or two days to avert an immediate crisis. To build two extensive walls and related outworks would have required as much as a week.[54] A decision to build must therefore have been made under circumstances of foreseeable and persistent threats, not as a re-action to a sudden and immediate crisis. The threat of hostilities with Thebes between 369 and 338 waxed and waned from time to time but was ever present. The momentary abatement of a particular crisis never brought with it a complete sense of relief. There is no recognizable occasion during that period which could explain why a project undertaken in view of persistent dangers would be abruptly abandoned, wasting substantial investments of manpower and money. For building the Dema but not the other works required in the north would be like building only one long wall to Peiraieus—a half-finished job would be essentially useless. Although the Athenians of the mid fourth century could be accused of adopting half-hearted and inadequate measures in opposing their enemies abroad, in an undertaking as concrete and immediate as the construction of defensive works around the plain of Athens, it is hard to believe that the demos could have reversed itself, as on a whim, and aborted such a project after it was well under way.

It is indeed doubtful in the first place that the Athenians would have thought that fieldworks like the Dema wall would be an effective deter-rent to the Thebans. As has been described previously, the Dema was useful only when it was manned in strength. To mobilize forces for its defense required adequate forewarning of the approach of the enemy. But Thebes was the immediate neighbor of Athens, and the mobilization and onset of Theban forces could conceivably take place without adequate time for the full deployment of Athenian forces to their various fieldworks.[55] Moreover, the Athenians had already faced the Thebans under Epameinondas from behind such fieldworks at the Isthmus in 369, and the Thebans had succeeded in crossing them.[56] Barrier walls

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like the Dema were thus not an obvious answer to the danger of a The-ban invasion of Attica. They might prove serviceable under certain circumstances, but they could not be relied upon to provide a secure cordon of defense. The numbers of Athenian hoplites and cavalry and the support of strong allies were more important deterrents. Native Athenian and Boiotian troops were more or less evenly matched in numbers, so that if one army were to invade the country of the other, it would have no overwhelming advantage unless it was supported by a large al-lied contingent.[57] Diplomacy was therefore a more important deterrent than barrier walls (as Demosthenes was fond of pointing out, Second Philippic 23-24, On the Crown 299-

302). For these reasons, and because of the evident inadequacy of the defenses which actually were built, it is unlikely that the Dema was planned and constructed specifically to counteract the threat of a Theban attack.

Some of the same reasons count against the likelihood that the Dema was constructed in response to the threat posed to Attica by the forces of Macedon from the time of the battle of Chaironeia to the end of the Lamian War. The most serious objection, once again, is the fact that the Dema provided inadequate defense against a threat from the north. Further objections may be raised on historical grounds against the association of the Dema with any of the crises of 339-335 and 322.

When Philip arrived at Elateia in the autumn of 339 and the threat of invasion was suddenly brought home to the Athenians, preparations were from the first devoted to meeting him in battle as far from the frontiers of Attica as possible. Athenian infantry and cavalry were mobilized immediately and sent to Eleusis, to await there the conclusion of a treaty with the Thebans about the conduct of a joint campaign against Philip.[58] From this point on, every effort was devoted to overmastering Philip in the contest to be fought on the western frontiers of Boiotia. It is unlikely that the possibility of defeat would have been so openly admitted as to divert funds and manpower to a major wall-building project in Attica at this time.[59]

Once the Athenians were defeated at Chaironeia and defense beyond the frontiers of Attica was no longer possible, other measures were adopted for the safety of Athens. The aftermath of Chaironeia is the period in which the Dema has been placed in the study by Jones, Sackett, and Eliot, which is the most cogent attempt to date the wall offered until now. Eliot, the author of these conclusions, distinguishes two phases of the Athenian reaction to the defeat at Chaironeia:

― 122 ―We have seen that the Athenians engaged in work on their fortifications directly after the battle of Chaeronea in 338 B.C. and then started again in 337 B.C. The first operation was hastily done—an emergency measure—and had a single aim, the defence of the city. The second, on the other hand, was methodically organized and may well have embraced the needs of the country as well as of the city. If the Dema Wall is to be ascribed to either of these occasions, it must be to the second.[60]

The methodical fortification work of 337 was that undertaken in the spring of that year by the commissioners who, on the motion of Demosthenes, were elected by each of the ten tribes. Eliot suggests that these ten teichopoioi , of whom Demosthenes was one, were responsible for more than simply repairing the defenses of Athens and Peiraieus. He argues that they must have performed substantial work on the forts of the Attic countryside and that, conceivably, they also undertook to build the Dema wall.[61]

Beyond these circumstances, there is no further evidence adduced by Eliot in favor of this dating of the Dema, and his concluding comments serve only to emphasize the inadequacy of the wall for the purposes of stopping a Macedonian army under Philip or Alexander. This is not inappropriate to Eliot's argument, however, since he believes that archaeological evidence shows that the wall was never completed, evidently because the Athenians suddenly realized how inadequate it was. The archaeological evidence taken to indicate incompleteness, however, is to be explained by later modification and reuse of the wall (see chapter 2 and appendix II), and for reasons given above, an argument predicated on the abrupt abandonment of the project does not carry conviction, especially without a sudden emergency to explain such a change of mind. Eliot does suggest that the destruction

of Thebes by Alexander in 335 "would have left few in doubt as to the weakness of such a fortification and the futility of completing it," but this event, more than two years after the commission of the teichopoioi , is hardly sudden enough to account for the abandonment of a project to close the major passes into the plain of Athens, if this in fact had been part of the work begun in 337.[62]

In looking back over this period, Demosthenes makes several allusions to the defensive measures adopted by the Athenians, but never does he hint that an attempt was made to block the ways into Attica with fortifications. Though the preparation of walls and entrenchments is

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mentioned, whenever these can be identified, they are seen to be the walls and outworks of the city and Peiraieus.[63] At one point, Demosthenes characterizes the full scope of Athenian defensive measures when he declares that, though he takes pride in his work (as creator of the commission of teichopoioi and as one of their number) in building walls and digging trenches, he takes far more pride in his diplomatic achievements by which Athens was surrounded with strong allies:Out of these I created a bulwark around Attica, so far as human calculation allows, and by these I fortified our countryside , not just the circuit of the Peiraieus and the city.[64]

By contrast with his diplomatic efforts, Demosthenes implies, the actual wall building of his commission did not serve to fortify the countryside of Attica but only to strenghten the defenses of Athens and Peiraieus. Lykourgos similarly excludes any scheme of territorial defense at this time when he states that the men who fought at Chaironeia chose to rely on their own courage to protect Attica and did not abandon the Attic countryside to the enemy by relying on walls, that is, city walls, for protection.[65] These passages make clear the dichotomy of potential Athenian responses to the advance of Philip: face him in open battle (which was done at Chaironeia) or retreat within the walls of the city (which was done after the defeat of Chaironeia). There was no intermediate step; once the effort to drive Philip back at Chaironeia had failed, there was no military measure that might protect Attica as a whole. There is there-fore no place for the Dema wall, or any other territorial defense scheme, in the Athenian defensive preparations of the 330s.

This being the case, it is even less likely that the Dema would have been developed as a response to the final crisis of the Lamian War of 323-322. Once again, the war began when the confidence of the Athenians in their army's strength abroad was high. For several months, this confidence was fully justified. The tide of battle was irreversibly turned, however, through the crushing defeat of the Athenian navy at Amorgos. This blow not only destroyed all hope of preventing a concentration of Macedonian land forces but, more important, made it impossible for

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Athens to maintain its vital maritime grain supply. A blockade and eventual siege of Athens was therefore inevitable, whether or not the Athenians attempted to defend a line in their countryside, and the capitulation which was soon made to Antipater was the only possible safeguard of Athenian lives and property.[66]

ConclusionsWe may summarize here the many and varied strands of evidence which coincide in demonstrating that the Dema wall was built in 378 B.C. Archaeological evidence for the date of the wall consists of its style of masonry and, more important, a well-dated sherd found embedded in the fill of its construction. The more precise limit established by the sherd, the Dema saltcellar, is that the wall can date no earlier than ca. 425, and much more likely after 400, within the period ca. 400-375 if the saltcellar was contemporary with the building of the wall. Masonry style is entirely in agreement with these conclusions and suggests, moreover, that the wall probably does not postdate the fourth century.

Excavation at the Dema tower adds significant confirmation to the above conclusions and probable inferences, for the tower is intelligible only if it and related towers elsewhere in Attica were built as part of the same defensive scheme as the Dema wall. Clear and abundant evidence for the reuse of the tower as a stand for beehives, somewhere in the period ca. 340-300, after the tower had fallen into ruin, indicates that the original use of the tower most likely fell within the first half of the fourth century. Two cup fragments distinctly earlier than the second-phase material at the tower indicate that a date later than ca. 375 for the first phase is unlikely. Purely archaeological criteria, therefore, narrow the range for the date of the Dema wall to ca. 425-375, with the later half of this range distinctly more likely than the earlier.

The dating thus defined by the archaeological evidence is entirely supported by the evidence of historical probability. The tactical principles embodied by the design of the wall are exemplified in the general-ship of Athenian commanders from Iphikrates to Phokion, and the most appropriate parallels for both fieldwork and tactics are associated with Chabrias in the Boiotian War. Strategically, both the wall and the tower, when associated with other towers around Athens and toward the western frontiers, make excellent sense in terms of the defensive situation contemplated by the Athenians in the spring of 378. By contrast, neither earlier nor later events so aptly suit the physical evidence. Finally, theoretical writings of the two decades following the Boiotian War prescribe

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defensive measures of exactly the sort represented by the Dema wall and its outworks, making it most likely that this system in Attica and the Theban stockade built and manned by a joint Theban-Athenian force were innovations (or, more properly, refinements) that set their stamp on a generation of military theory and practice.

The cumulative evidence, deriving from a wide variety of historical and archaeological sources, is thus entirely consistent with the thesis that the Dema wall was built, and that it and related watchtowers in Attica were manned, in readiness for an attack which never came, during the periods of the Spartan campaigns across the Isthmus of Corinth from the early summer of 378 until the same season in 375. These arguments have thereby deduced a fixed chronological point for an archaeological monument, the Dema wall, and with it, the Dema tower. Other mountaintop towers in Attica can be related to the Dema defense system through both stylistic and functional considerations. The historical significance of the Dema wall can now be properly assessed, and it will be found to shed light on

contemporary events from a perspective other-wise barely represented in our historical sources. The broader implications of this assessment of the function of the Dema wall for the study of fortifications in the classical world have already been outlined above in chapter 1. It will be appropriate to proceed, in chapter 5, to a thorough reappraisal of the Boiotian War, incorporating the new evidence that can now contribute to a narrative account of this episode in the history of land warfare in Greece.

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PART THREETHE BOIOTIAN WAR

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FiveThe Defense of Attica, 378-375 B.C.

War pits strength against weakness. Each side chooses how best to bring its own strength to bear upon the perceived weak points of the enemy. It is in the nature of war, between rival states at least, that each side anticipates it and takes measures accordingly, either to precipitate hostilities at a favorable moment or to defer and forestall them. But each, in the process, is continually reckoning the balance of strengths against vulnerabilities. This reckoning, before hostilities begin, is in itself a formidable and fearful task (as the contemplations of Archidamos and Perikles on the eve of the Peloponnesian War, in books 1 and 2 of Thucydides, make clear), for the process depends upon estimations not only of numbers of men, strategic positions, and quantifiable resources, but also of collective intent, mood, and morale. These last three are the factors that bring on war, and only when they are fundamentally altered does it end.

Intentions and objectives are the qualifies most essential to under-standing war, both for those directly confronting it and for the historian investigating it. The claims and declarations of the combatants against each other and among themselves establish the overt justifications of war. Thucydides has long taught us how far these might lie from under-lying causes and objectives yet how crucial they are for creating collective resolve. War is a collective action, the most extreme condition of subordinating multifarious interests to a single collective purpose. The sources of tension and the strengths of counterthemes encountered in the process of creating a collective purpose must be evaluated, by both leaders and historians of war, in formulating the objectives of the process. The deployment of material resources—the

strategy of war—is the most explicit indicator of intentions and objectives. But here, too, a

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simple reading of the evidence, especially for the historian dealing with antiquity, cannot always distinguish primary from secondary objectives or, more important, how objectives may have been shifted and redefined according to material obstacles and shifting intentions.

This portion of the present work is an essay on the interplay of strengths and weaknesses, and on the counterplay of intentions, among adversaries in the war of 378-375 B.C. , known as the Boiotian War.[1] Although study of this episode can afford a wider scope over the subject of imperialism and diplomacy in fourth-century Greece, this essay is narrowly focused and does not offer an analysis of what is, to most historians, the salient feature of that war—the foundation of the second Athenian naval confederacy. Aspects of the proximate and underlying causes of the war are thus deliberately minimized in the discussion here, although they cannot be passed over lightly, for they are controversial and not well understood. They are so treated here, however, both because I am attending to the subject in another work and because attention to other facets of the events of 378-375 is needed before problems that have absorbed so much scholarly attention can be resolved, or at least removed to a new level of inquiry. What follows, therefore, is a narrative account of the Boiotian War, more specifically, of the Athenian preparation for and conduct of what was, at its beginning and for the greater part of its duration, a land war.[2]

The nature and focus of this essay are justified by the substantive results of the foregoing chapters, which add a significant new dimension

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to our previous understanding of these events based on the surviving ancient narrative accounts of Xenophon and Diodoros. The physical set-ting of the war provides an independent parameter that, combined with the qualitatively variable testimony of our sources, enables us to evaluate the respective strategies and strengths of the two sides and to formulate original conclusions about their intentions and their accomplishments. In the case of Athens and Attica, substantial archaeological remains, the actual artifacts of war, can be added to the physical setting. The following essay is devoted to the integration of these artifacts into a new narrative of the Boiotian War.

SourcesTopography and unlettered monuments cannot of themselves generate any narrative discourse of events. The foregoing chapters have amply demonstrated how archaeological remains, even in a historically well-documented and archaeologically well-studied period, can be subject to widely divergent interpretations. Narrative discourse can arise only from narrative sources, and these naturally become the center of attention in a historical essay such as this, to be only periodically, though

not insignificantly, illuminated by the evidence of topography and monuments. The histories of Xenophon and Diodoros, the former the work of a contemporary and the latter derived from a near contemporary to these events, are thus the basis for what follows.

The imperfections of both of these sources have long exercised scholars, especially in connection with the present subject. Their accounts are enriched, but never immediately clarified, by passages from a wide variety of other sources. Problems inherent in construing our source material can only be dealt with in detail. In this essay, I have chosen to make my own narrative of events the primary mode of discourse and to comment on problems raised by our sources on a secondary and, I hope, less obtrusive level than has been common practice. It will be useful, there-fore, to characterize briefly the shortcomings of Xenophon and Diodoros as I perceive them, so that their salient features may more readily be recognized in my comments on sources in the narrative that follows.

Xenophon, in treating this period in his Hellenika , narrates events al-most exclusively from the standpoint of their effect on the hegemony of Sparta. The relevant portion of his narrative begins with his summary of apparent Spartan strength in 379 (5.3.27), following the surrender of both Phleious and Olynthos to Sparta. The Theban uprising then marks the beginning of a series of events that led, through divinely ordained retribution for past Spartan excesses, to the catastrophic defeat of Sparta by the Thebans at Leuktra eight years later (cf. 5.4.1 and 6.4.2-3). The

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concern for the experience of Sparta throughout this narrative is marked by the lengthy vignettes devoted to the trial of Sphodrias (5.4.25-33) and the mission of Polydamas of Pharsalos to Sparta (6.1.2-19). The former reveals Xenophon's fixation on the immediate cause of the Athenian entry into the war, since as far as Xenophon's narrative is concerned, the Sphodrias affair seems to be the only reason for Athenian involvement (cf. 5.4.63, in which Athenian enthusiasm for the war three years later is still attributed to their anger over Sphodrias). The latter episode serves to underscore Sparta's waning influence outside of the Peloponnese. Likewise, the three speeches by Athenian ambassadors at Sparta in 371 (6.3.4-17) provide commentaries primarily on the position of Sparta at that time, shortly before the ill-fated decision by the Spartans to send Kleombrotos from Phokis into Boiotia.

Yet even the reliability of Xenophon's judgment of the causes of Sparta's downfall may be called into question by his concurrent concern to present his esteemed Agesilaos as free from the blame that he attaches either anonymously to Spartan deliberative bodies or by name to a few individuals, chief among whom is Kleombrotos, Agesilaos' counterpart in kingship. As I have described in detail elsewhere, Xenophon's ac-count, through both explicit comments and significant omissions, pro-vides a comparison of these two men that serves to magnify Agesilaos and discredit Kleombrotos, often unfairly.[3] With such preoccupations, Xenophon's account not only fails completely to mention important developments on the Athenian side (the foundation of the second Athenian naval confederacy is the most egregious of these omissions), but it also provides a noticeably skewed picture of Spartan capabilities and accomplishments.

Diodoros provides a very different sort of narrative, counteracting some of the weaknesses of Xenophon but, at the same time, presenting very different problems. Although Diodoros, like all of his predecessors including Xenophon, cannot resist focusing the narrative on the over-arching theme of Sparta's excesses leading to its downfall (e.g., 15.1.1-6, 33.2-3, 50.2), he does succeed in presenting a more balanced appraisal of the concerns of all three of the chief contenders: Sparta, Thebes, and

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Athens. His history is, however, a condensation of the lengthier account given by Ephoros and shows flaws that are virtually inevitable in such a compressed and secondhand account. Much has been left out, and what this has deprived us of we can only guess. In what we can evaluate, we find clarity sacrificed to brevity (for example, the battle described in 15.34.1-2) and outright errors (such as the reported death of Chabrias in 15.36.4; cf. 16.7.3-4; and, probably, numbers; cf. 15.29.7 and Polybios 2.62.6).

The most serious flaw in Diodoros' history here, as elsewhere, is his mutilation of Ephoros' topically arranged narrative for the sake of creating an annalistic one. This has caused chronological distortions, the mildest of which is that for the whole narrative of the war of 378-375, events are dated at least one archon-year too late by Diodoros. More serious confusion arises when events which Ephoros narrated out of chronological order, but according to their logical coherence, are re-ported by Diodoros all within a single year. The worst case is 15.28-35, all of which supposedly occurred within the archonship of Kalleas.[4]

The demonstrable flaws in Diodoros' account have for a long time led many scholars to treat his authority as distinctly secondary to Xenophon wherever the two seem to be at odds. The most important of these divergences concerns the Athenian involvement in the Theban uprising of 379/8. It has seemed appropriate to many to dismiss much of Diodoros' testimony on this matter as erroneous, in part because of the apparent occurrence of yet another of Diodoros' occasional chronological monstrosities, the doublet, or narration of the same event in two different forms as two events (in this case 15.26.1 and 26.2-3, which have been regarded as doublets of 15.29.7 and 32.2-3).[5] Diodoros' account

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of the peace of 375 is likewise considered defective because it contains a doublet of the peace of 371 (15.38-39 and 50.4-6).[6] In neither case, however, are the apparent difficulties easily resolved by the excision of one or another passage of Diodoros. There has been a growing, though by no means unanimous, tendency in recent years to regard apparent contradictions between Diodoros and Xenophon, and even within Diodoros' own narrative, as indicative not of blunders of the compiler or of fabrications in his source material but of nuances in the import of events, obscured at times by Diodoros' abridgment but otherwise faithful to events as they occurred and as they were variously perceived and rep-resented by the participants.

[7] I support this tendency in general, and I have, by and large, taken it farther than most so far have cared to do.

AnticipationBy the autumn of 379, the Athenians were making preparations for war with Sparta. Opinions had for some years been divided about how and when, and even if , this war should be fought, in view of the overwhelming advantages in allied strength possessed by Sparta. But because those very advantages were seen by many to be based on heavy-handed and unpopular policies, they were believed to be vulnerable. Among Athenians and the friends of Athens, there was a strong tide of feeling against Sparta in 380/79, as the sentiments of Isokrates' Panegyrikos reveal. Under these circumstances, and despite some deep misgivings among not a few Athenians, the majority of Athenians strongly favored taking action to check the influence of Sparta. With this in mind, in 379, an influential

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circle of executive officers and statesmen prepared a plan of covert action that, when announced, would receive the endorsement of the demos, even though it would very likely mean war with Sparta.[8] The movements of Chabrias provide evidence for these preparations.

After distinguishing himself as a commander of mercenaries in the Corinthian War, since 388 Chabrias had been abroad, at first in Cyprus, where he led a corps of Athenian and mercenary troops in the service of Euagoras of Salamis, an ally of Athens. Since the King's Peace of 386 expressly ceded Cyprus to King Artaxerxes, Chabrias withdrew and accepted command of a mercenary army being raised in Egypt by Hakoris for war against the forces of Artaxerxes, who was attempting to reestablish Persian dominion in Egypt. Chabrias was eminently successful in his command under Hakoris. He devised an elaborate system of fortifications to defend both the overland and maritime approaches to the Nile delta from Palestine. He exercised his command in action, holding off Persian forces led by Pharnabazos, Tithraustes, and Abrokomas for three years (probably 385-383), and he even enlarged Egyptian domains in Palestine with the collapse of the Persian offensive. After having served his patron so ably and, following the death of Hakoris, after seeing the rule of Egypt securely transferred to Nektanebis I late in 379, Chabrias was summoned back to Athens.[9]

In the compressed account of Diodoros, Chabrias was recalled immediately after the Athenians received complaints about him from Pharnabazos. The circumstances belie such a simple account. Pharnabazos' complaint, which carried with it the threat of alienating Artaxerxes, could hardly have been both so tardy and so effective. Why would Pharnabazos wait until 379, after Chabrias had been making headway against Persian forces for more than five years, to represent the king's interests

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before the Athenians? The truth more likely was that Pharnabazos had complained more than once and had received the reply that Chabrias was acting on his own initiative,

[Full Size](Diodoros 15.29.2), and could not be restrained by the Athenians. When Chabrias finally was recalled, on strict orders from the Athenians, it was after his task in Egypt was done and after he had seen to the establishment of a suitable successor to Hakoris. The occasion must have had more to do with a need for his services at Athens than with Pharnabazos' wish to see him gone.[10]

When Chabrias emerges in action in the opening campaigns of the Boiotian War, he is the energetic and sagacious commander of mercenaries for the Athenians. When peace was made in 375, one of the factors encouraging the Athenians to make peace was the burdensome cost of maintaining mercenary troops. The circumstantial case is extremely strong, therefore, that Chabrias returned to Athens in 379 in the company of a substantial corps of seasoned mercenary troops and that, although he rose to the rank of an elected general early in the war, he began service on the Kithairon frontier as a commander of mercenary forces. The further, and more important, conclusion to be drawn from these developments in the career of Chabrias is that, by the time the Athenians summoned him and his followers to Athens, the Athenians already foresaw the need for such troops in a war that was soon to break out.[11]

PrecipationAthenian involvement in the Theban uprising against the Spartan garrison on the Kadmeia is further evidence that war was anticipated by the Athenians. At the beginning of the winter of 379/8, the return of the Theban exiles from Attica and their coup d'état at Thebes was supported by a corps of Athenian volunteers led by two generals. The affair was planned and executed in secrecy and, therefore, was not authorized by any public decree on the part of the Athenians. The Athenian officers and men in on the conspiracy were certainly aware of the gravity of the

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situation and the probability that war with Sparta would result. They must have proceeded, nonetheless, with the expectation that what they were doing was opportune and would receive the endorsement of the Athenian assembly as soon as the uprising was announced. This is precisely what did happen, according to Isokrates, Deinarchos, Diodoros, Plutarch, and Aristides, and their testimony should be accepted despite the silence of Xenophon on this point.[12]

On the first day of the uprising, when it became known that the pro-Spartan polemarchs were dead and the city of Thebes was in the hands of the anti-Spartan faction, messengers were dispatched by both the conspirators and the beleaguered Spartan garrison to summon aid to their sides. The Spartans urgently requested support from the surrounding allied towns and a relieving force from Sparta to put down the insurrection. The Thebans, presumably seconded by their Athenian coconspirators, urgently requested a force from Athens in order to capture the Kadmeia before the Peloponnesian army should arrive. Within a day, the Theban

appeal was heard at Athens and approved, and the following day, a force "as large as possible" was dispatched to Thebes (Diodoros 15.26.1).

Diodoros says that 5,000 Athenian hoplites and 500 cavalry were mobilized under the command of Demophon and that the Athenians prepared to follow this force

[Full Size], with their entire levy, if necessary (15.26.2). The mercenaries of Chabrias were already on the scene. Operating out of Eleutherai on the main road to Thebes, Chabrias' men must have formed the bulk of the force led by the two generals, for no citizen levy could have been called out for that covert purpose without arousing widespread suspicion and speculation. As it was, the presence of these men in the vicinity of the frontiers seems to have been noticed by the Spartan commanders, who suspected that something was afoot and placed their allies on alert. This emerges from details in Plutarch's account of the events leading up to the uprising in Thebes in his On the Daimon of Sokrates . Although this is a largely fictionalized work, these particular details seem too circumstantially precise to be dismissed. Plutarch has one of the Theban conspirators, despairing of their chances

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for success, point out that their enemies could not be altogether ignorant of the conspiracy of the exiles, since on the eve of the planned coup, the Thespians had been standing to arms for two days already, under orders from the Spartan commanders to be prepared in case they were summoned (Moralia 586e-f). A second circumstantial detail is that one of the three Spartan commanders, Lysanoridas, was away from Thebes at the time of the uprising (Moralia 586e, 594d, 598f). This detail is con-firmed by the fact that, of the three Spartan commanders held accountable after the surrender of the Kadmeia, Lysanoridas was the only one to escape the death sentence (PlutarchPelopidas 13.2, Moralia 598f; cf. Diodoros 15.27.3). Considering the state of alert at Thespiai, it is most likely that Lysanoridas was in the field investigating the source of the alarm. Under the circumstances, Plataia would have been his most probable location, for there he could most readily gather intelligence about the movements of the Athenian force, whose presence in such strength was most unusual at any time, and certainly in this season. As events proved, if the Spartans and their allies suspected anything at this moment, it was the Athenians, not the conspirators within Thebes.[13]

Upon the arrival at Thebes of the main Athenian force and supporters from other Boiotian cities, the siege of the Kadmeia was more closely pressed. The mass of forces assembled (Diodoros 15.26.4 reports no less than 12,000 hoplites and 2,000 cavalry) was intended primarily to fore-stall any intervention by Spartan allies in the immediate vicinity, and in this it was entirely successful. The Thespians, whatever orders they may have received, kept quiet. Athenian citizen troops were

most likely detailed to this deterrent role. Actual fighting was left to the Thebans and their Boiotian supporters and, probably, the mercenaries brought by the Athenians.

Frequent assaults were made on the walls, and soldiers were encouraged by the promise of great rewards to the first man to enter the acropolis, all loudly announced for the effect it would have on morale on both sides. The garrison of 1,500 men held out stoutly for days, but as provisions began to dwindle and no relieving force was in sight, the pressure began to tell. Finally, after at least two weeks of ceaseless right-

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ing, all in the gloom of winter, the Peloponnesian followers compelled their Spartan commanders to accept terms of surrender and to evacuate the Kadmeia.[14]

The surrender was a decisive victory, for if the Kadmeia had not fallen by the time the Peloponnesian army arrived, the Spartans would have been able to lay siege to the Thebans and their allies from within and without, reducing the anti-Spartan forces to a state from which there would have been no easy recovery. The victory was a narrow one, for the relieving army was little more than a day away at the time of the evacuation. Did the Thebans and Athenians realize that success hung by so slender a thread?

There is no doubt that they realized the urgency of reducing the Kadmeia, but they may well have felt confident in their ability to press the siege to a successful conclusion no matter how long it took. The reason for their confidence was the presence of Chabrias' peltasts together with a Theban force on the Kithairon frontier, whose purpose was to halt the army of Kleombrotos when it finally arrived in the Megarid. Determined opposition could dose the Kithairon passes to an invading army, as Kleombrotos was to discover in 376. On this occasion, however, Kleombrotos did force his way through, although it is likely that his progress north from the Megarid was significantly delayed before he was able to find a way to do so.

Xenophon describes the position of Kleombrotos' foes at the moment that Kleombrotos made his passage through Kithairon "on the road leading to Plataia" (Hellenika5.4.14). Chabrias and his peltasts were guarding the road through Eleutherai while a force of some 150 men from Thebes were on guard in the pass on Kleombrotos' route. It is sometimes assumed, as Xenophon's simple description seems to imply, that Chabrias at Eleutherai had forced Kleombrotos to make a detour out of the best route across Kithairon into a byway where a small de-fending force was taken by surprise. This is an erroneous assumption, however, for Kleombrotos' route to Plataia was in fact the direct route for his purposes (see map 5 and figures 41, 42).[15] At the moment of his crossing, Chabrias' force was in no position to hinder Kleombrotos' passage into Boiotia. Only the "men released from prison [in the uprising at Thebes], who were about one hundred and fifty in number," as

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Xenophon describes them, were in Kleombrotos' way, and these Kleombrotos' vanguard of peltasts surprised and slaughtered or dispersed.

This is a remarkable set of circumstances, in view of the fact that the approach of Kleombrotos' army was no secret and that the men from Thebes were, presumably, on the lookout for his army. Why were there so few of them, and why were they taken by surprise? The answer to these questions must be that they did not expect Kleombrotos to cross Kithairon at that moment, and the only reason for them to have been so careless is that they believed their task was done.

The garrison on the Kadmeia had already surrendered, and its commanders had been allowed to withdraw to Megara, there to meet Kleombrotos with their shameful news (Plutarch Pelopidas 13.2). There is every reason to believe that until that time the Thebans, almost certainly rein-forced by Chabrias' peltasts, had stood watch in force over the southern entrances to the Kithairon passes, preventing Kleombrotos from making any attempt to cross.[16] Standing guard for weeks on these ridges and summits in the bitter cold of the midwinter season would have taken its toll on these men. After they had seen the Spartans from the Kadmeian garrison make their dismal way across the passes, they must have been ordered to withdraw and return to sheltered quarters. Most of the Thebans returned home, but 150 miserable souls were left to stand guard over the northern entrances to the Kithairon passes, where their object would have been to keep watch on Plataia, ready to intercept any movement that Lysanoridas and his small force there might make to cross out of Boiotia. Chabrias' mercenaries took up quarters at Eleutherai to keep watch over another northern entrance to Kithairon. Neither party noriced the force that broke camp at Megara and moved swiftly across the passes behind them. The Thebans and Athenians no longer expected Kleombrotos to cross Kithairon, and the fact that he did so came as a shock.

Second ThoughtsThe events of Kleombrotos' winter campaign and its immediate after-math were of great significance to the course of the war to follow. All sources agree that, before his march, Athenian officers and men had been willing to volunteer their support to Thebes, and there is no reason

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to doubt those sources that report that this unofficial voluntary aid was immediately followed by a public decree of direct military support. The diplomatic basis for this action can only have been an assertion on the part of the Athenians that they were enforcing the King's Peace by guaranteeing the autonomy of Thebes. They were, to use the words formally inscribed by the Athenians just a year later, taking action "so that the Lakedaimonians would allow the Greeks to be free and autonomous, to live in peace, possessing their own land in security." This action could not have been undertaken in a state of naive optimism, for in view of Sparta's recent history of intervention at Olynthos, at Phleious, and at Thebes itself, the Athenians, like the Thebans, surely foresaw a strong Spartan military response. But they thought that they had an answer to this. Through their speedy and massive support of the Theban uprising, in combination with a blockade of the way across Kithairon, they felt that they had assured that the garrison could be expelled without the least likelihood of coming to blows with the Peloponnesian army.[17]

After Kleombrotos' campaign, however, Athenian enthusiasm for the Theban cause suddenly evaporated. Xenophon reports the trial and condemnation, to death and to exile, of the two generals who had been instrumental in bringing Athenian support to Thebes. Plutarch confirms this report and adds that a treaty of alliance with Thebes was repudiated. Xenophon identifies the motive for this reaction as fear, brought about when "the Athenians beheld the power of the Lakedaimonians, and that the war was no longer at Corinth, but that the Lakedaimonians were now passing Attica and invading the territory of Thebes."[18] We cannot be-

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lieve that the mere advent of "the power of the Lakedaimonians," so clearly foreseeable, was responsible for the abrupt reversal of Athenian policy. The fact that its arrival didprove to be the undoing of the Athenian supporters of Thebes must indicate that Kleombrotos had succeeded where all had expected he would not. In view of Kleombrotos' general inactivity after his arrival in Boiotia, a fact that Xenophon does not fail to criticize, the gravity of this development for the cause of the Thebans and the Athenians is not immediately apparent. Once again, the sequence of events points to the source of Athenian fears at this time.

Kleombrotos' mission was to lift the siege of the Kadmeia and to put down the anti-Spartan uprising in Thebes. For this he had arrived too late. The Spartan garrison commanders, having evacuated the Kadmeia on terms of capitulation, had met Kleombrotos and delivered the bad news to him while he was still in the Megarid. Nevertheless, Kleombrotos pressed on, and after breaking through a Theban guard force in the Dryos Kephalai pass, he entered Boiotia. Kleombrotos' first moves were to confirm the control of friendly forces in the towns of Plataia and Thespiai. Then he entered Theban territory and encamped at Kynos Kephalai, on the boundaries of Theban land toward Thespiai, about six kilometers from Thebes. There he remained, Xenophon informs us, for about sixteen days, without undertaking any overt military actions against the Thebans. What could his purpose have been?

With anti-Spartan forces turned out at full strength and numerous Athenian reinforcements still at Thebes (Diodoros 15.27.4), there was little chance of success in an assault. In the dead of winter, with no advance preparations in the surrounding communities, there were no re-sources available to support a circumvallation and siege of Thebes. Like-wise, there was little in the countryside worth destroying, and still less forage available for the sustenance of Kleombrotos' army. From a military standpoint, then, not much could be done at the moment. But with proper preparations, a noose could be tightened around Thebes in the coming spring.

Despite sympathizers in neighboring communities, Thebes was still alone among Boiotian towns in its resistance to Sparta. Only the Athenians had openly declared their support for Thebes, and in this, as soon as Kleombrotos' army arrived, they probably began to equivocate. An exchange of declarations must have occupied much of Kleombrotos' time at Kynos Kephalai. Kleombrotos would have declared Spartan intentions to be only to punish the wrongdoers, the murderers of the The-ban polemarchs.[19]The Athenians would have declared that they were

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present only to assure the restoration of freedom and autonomy to the Thebans, in accordance with the treaty with the king sworn by all parties in 386, which had been violated when the Spartans seized the Kadmeia in 382.[20] The Athenians may have added (as they certainly genuinely felt) that there was no justification for the Spartans to make war on them over this issue. As the purposes of the two sides were mutually exclusive, there was an impasse. The Spartans were prepared to seek a military solution, but it would have been clear to Kleombrotos that it would be folly to begin hostilities at that time, when conditions were not favorable. Moreover, the Athenian declaration of peaceable intentions must al-ready have suggested to Kleombrotos that Sparta might not have to fight both Thebes and Athens over this issue. Certainly, if he took hostile action against Thebes at this point, with an Athenian army present, he would have forced the Athenians into war. There was every reason to wait for spring before advancing beyond Kynos Kephalai.

Kleombrotos therefore took measures to assure that Thebes remained isolated among Sparta's Boiotian allies. The chief action Kleombrotos is known to have taken at this time was the establishment of Sphodrias as Spartan harmost at Thespiai, with a substantial force, "a third part of the contingents of each of the allies," according to Xenophon (Hellenika 5.4.15), as well as money for the raising of still more mercenary troops. Diodoros (15.29.6) reports that Sphodrias' army at the time of his attack on Attica numbered more than ten thousand men.[21] Among the duties charged to this force must have been the establishment of a suitable garrison at Plataia and the assurance of support to Tanagra. Thebes was thereby ringed by hostile bases. If only Athenian support could be cut off, Thebes would be completely isolated. A directive to see to military measures that would achieve this end must have been among Kleombrotos' orders to Sphodrias.

During the sixteen days that the Peloponnesian army lay encamped at Kynos Kephalai, Kleombrotos and Sphodrias must have given considerable thought to the subject of Athenian military support for Thebes and how it might be severed. One of the principal activities of Kleombrotos at this time, therefore, must have been the gathering of intelligence. Spies and scouts reconnoitered routes across the Attic frontier and Athenian positions along them. The Athenian presence in the mountains of the frontier was worrisome to the Spartans not just because of the vital support it provided to Thebes, but also because it threatened to

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sever Sparta's overland route into Boiotia. The danger was clearly recognized by Kleombrotos, who knew what it meant to fight for passage through Kithairon. In fact, Kleombrotos' decision to withdraw from Boiotia by the longer and more arduous route via Kreusis to Aigosthena was probably taken in view of the threatening strength of Athenian forces under Chabrias in the passes of Kithairon, especially after Kleombrotos' army was reduced by the substantial force left at Thespiai, which probably included all of the peltasts brought by Kleombrotos.[22] These would be needed for the mountain campaign now beginning on the Boiotian frontier.

In view of these circumstances, after securing the Boiotian towns around Thebes, the highest priority for Sphodrias and his army was to gain and maintain control of the Kithairon passes. After this was done, he could contemplate how most effectively he could seal Thebes off from Athens.

The slow but inexorable development of these events sent a chill to the Athenians. Support for the Theban uprising must have been granted because the Athenians believed that a strong ally could thereby be gained without undue risk to themselves. Athenian and mercenary forces dispatched to Thebes and to Kithairon were supposed to assure the success of the uprising and to prevent the passage of a Peloponnesian army through Kithairon. The uprising had succeeded, but so had the Peloponnesian army, and now the mountains of the Attic frontier, which were supposed to be defensive bastions for Attica and Boiotia, were being convened into the forward outposts of strong Peloponnesian forces based close to those mountains. The beginning of summer would bring a predictable invasion of Boiotia from the Peloponnese, and unless the Athenians successfully disentangled themselves from Thebes and repudiated their involvement in the uprising, Athens would be embroiled in a war on the defensive, in a decidedly less secure position than had been anticipated a few months earlier. And if any of these points were not immediately dear to the Athenians, it is safe to assume that the Spar-tans lost no time in sending embassies to Athens to remonstrate and threaten, furthering their efforts to isolate Thebes, now well under way thanks to the patience and foresight of Kleombrotos.

It is no wonder that the mood at Athens was angry and that a majority could now be persuaded to condemn the two generals responsible for military operations that winter. It would be interesting to know the charges on which the generals were tried. Xenophon implies that their

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unauthorized complicity with the Theban conspirators was the basis of the accusations against them. They might well have been singled out as the initiators of what now appeared to be a disastrous policy, but there was another aspect of their role that laid them open to condemnation. The two generals were surely responsible for providing the Athenian assembly with a military assessment of the situation at the moment when the Thebans appeared to announce their uprising and to appeal for support. Having long given thought to the situation and now requiring swift assent to their plans, the generals must have optimistically affirmed that, with a strong Athenian commitment, the garrison on the Kadmeia could be reduced and that by guarding Kithairon any relief force from the Peloponnese could be held at bay in the Megarid. Now they were called to account. Although accusations must have been preferred by those known to disapprove of the entire proposition of supporting Thebes, the basis of the charge must have been not complicity, but incompetence. The generals had failed to live up to their promises, and they had left Athens in a dangerously exposed situation.

ConsequencesWhile these events were transpiring in the weeks following Kleombrotos' campaign, Sphodrias had decided on the most effective means of isolating Thebes from Athens. The task of closing a long frontier to the passage of enemy forces was very much more formidable than the task of keeping a single route open for the passage of one's own forces. Sphodrias therefore decided to stop the Athenians at their source, to hold Athens at bay, so to speak, by capturing Peiraieus. It was a strategically brilliant solution to his dilemma, and one, moreover, which would allow him to take capital advantage of the access to the Kithairon passes that he had by now secured.

For, as events would prove, neither Chabrias and his peltasts nor any other force was on watch in the field at that time. They had all most likely been withdrawn to the Athenian garrison forts at Oinoe, Panakton, and Eleusis, while the Athenian political and military leadership was passing through a crisis in Athens. Athens and Sparta were not yet at war, after all, and a Spartan diplomatic mission in Athens at the time indicated to the Athenians that the Spartans still wanted to exchange words rather than blows.[23]

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Because Athenian troops had already stood to arms against the Peloponnesians on Kithairon and at Thebes and had already, in fact or to outward appearances, joined in the fighting that led to the surrender of the Peloponnesian garrison at Thebes, the fact that Sparta and Athens were not yet formally at war might have escaped Sphodrias. Or, to give him more credit, he took an entirely practical view of the situation (as had his Athenian counterparts earlier that winter) and recognized that if war had not yet formally begun, it certainly would do so by the beginning of summer, and he ought, therefore, to fulfill his charge as effectively as possible by striking first. In the aftermath, when Sphodrias was brought to trial at Sparta, his acquittal was secured when Agesilaos arrived at precisely this assessment of the situation, announcing that "Sparta has need of such soldiers" (Xenophon Hellenika 5.4.32).

In the event, Sphodrias' plan failed only because it was too ambitious. His plan was to march, under the cover of night, from Thespiai to Peiraieus, where the recently rebuilt gates did not yet have doors. Starting from Thespiai rather than Plataia, so as to avoid having any hint of his intentions reported to the Athenians, he set out after an early supper on a march of about seventy-five kilometers. Some twelve hours or so later, dawn's light found him in the plain of Eleusis, still at least twenty kilo-meters short of his objective. By that time, the alarm had been sounded at Athens, and the Athenians were standing to arms in the city and at Peiraieus. Xenophon makes it clear that the approach of Sphodrias' army was reported not by any signal relay but by individuals who had chanced to meet the force in the night and had fled in haste to bring the news to the city. Furthermore, Sphodrias' contempt of any Athenian forces that might have been stationed in the garrison forts near the frontiers is demonstrated by the fact that after dawn had lifted the cover of surprise from his mission, he turned his attention to rounding up flocks and breaking into houses in the countryside as he withdrew. He had most definitely caught the Athenians unprepared.[24]

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Although Sphodrias failed to achieve his goal, the shock of his at-tack must have stunned the Athenians into a momentary stupor of disbelief and bewilderment. How could this have happened? Were they not making every concession demanded by the Spartans to separate themselves from Thebes? The Spartan ambassadors then in Athens, likewise stunned, disavowed any knowledge of the attack and were believed by the Athenians when they promised that its perpetrator would be brought to

justice. Yet even before the outcome of the trial of Sphodrias at Sparta became known weeks later, shock gave way to anger at Athens as the adherents of the Theban cause once again gained the ear of the demos, as Xenophon reports:Among the Athenians, meanwhile, the Boiotizers were pointing out to the people that the Lakedaimonians had not only not punished, but had even praised Sphodrias, because he had plotted against Athens. As a result, the Athenians put doors on the Peiraieus gates, set about building ships, and gave support to the Boiotians with full enthusiasm.[25]

Only a few weeks earlier, the Athenians had moved to distance themselves from Thebes in view of the manifest vulnerability of Attica to "the power of the Lakedaimonians." Now, after heated debate, the Athenians signaled a decisive change of course by a pair of resolutions: first, that the Spartans could be held to be in violation of the peace treaty of 386, the so-called King's Peace; and second, that the Thebans should be allies of the Athenians.[26] Despite the fact that Attica was no less vulnerable

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now than it had been before Sphodrias' attack, the Athenians were once again on the path to war with Sparta. Something more than welling anger must have occurred to the Athenians in the meantime to make this shift of opinion possible. Influential Athenians, the supporters of Thebes, must now have been listening to the advice of a military man who knew the frontier area and who had considerable experience in devising defensive works in anticipation of powerful armies.

Reckoning the BalanceIn the spring of 378, Spartan forces held the passes of Kithairon open for a possible invasion of Attica, and Sphodrias' raid provided proof enough that what the Spartans could do, they would do. The Spartans had at their disposal an allied army of some 30,000 infantry, the vast majority of them hoplites. This force was roughly double what the Athenians could raise under the pressure of war in Attica. The Athenians might have been able to call up as many as 10,000 hoplites, and these could be augmented by perhaps 2,000 mercenaries of various arms and an unknown number of citizen light-armed infantry, in all hardly likely to exceed 16,000 infantry, if even near that amount. A Theban contingent might increase the total force by some 3,000 to 4,000 infantry; but recognizing that some portion of the Athenian force would have to stand guard on the walls of Athens, Peiraieus, and the garrison forts, by the most optimistic count the Thebans and Athenians could expect to march out at barely half the potential strength of the Peloponnesians in the event of an invasion of Attica.[27]

Just as Perikles had recognized in 432/1, it would have been the height of folly to meet the Peloponnesians in the field with such odds. The Periklean alternative, however, was equally unacceptable. The Athenians could not afford to withdraw within their walls as they had done in 431, for then they were able to rely on their imperial revenues and

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capital reserves to provide for the import of essential foodstuffs and ma-tériel and to sustain their primarily naval war effort. Now they had neither imperial revenues nor significant reserves, and their war effort had to include a plan to support their major ally, Thebes, in a land campaign.

Necessity was the inspiration for novel solutions, both for the generation of revenue without empire and for the prosecution of a land campaign while decidedly outnumbered on land. The two concerns were directly connected, for the primary method of raising revenue by direct taxation in wartime, the eisphora , was based on the evaluation of the real property of the Athenians, the greater part of which consisted of land and houses outside of the walls of the city. Reliance on the eisphora for revenue therefore required measures to protect the property of the Athenians in the countryside. The importance of the eisphora to the Athenians at this time is demonstrated by the fundamental reorganization of the eisphora system that took place in 378. In that year, the taxable property of Attica was reassessed, and a new and more efficient method of converting it into revenue was instituted.[28] Reliance on eisphorai made the Athenians so much the more vulnerable to Peloponnesian might on land than they were in 431, since repeated invasion possibly, and hostile occupation certainly, would destroy a major revenue base for the state. Other military considerations aside, therefore, this demonstrated concern with eisphorai is inconceivable unless the Athenians at the same time had a plan for the defense of Attica against Peloponnesian invasion.

In the winter of 379/8, Theban and Athenian commanders had already recognized the utility of the Kithairon massif on the Attic-Boiotian-Megarian frontier as a barrier against Peloponnesian armies. Now, in the spring of 378, the Spartans were in control of the chief passes through that mountainous frontier. To the Thebans, this meant that they would have to confront the Peloponnesian army at the borders of their own land, in the open and gently rolling hill country of the Asopos basin, terrain that Mardonios had chosen a century earlier as suitable for pitting his numerically superior army against the forces of the Greeks. The terrain gave few and only slight local advantages to weaker defending forces. These constraints gave birth in the spring of 378 to the remarkable Theban stockade and earthwork, closing off the

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most accessible parts of Theban territory along a line at least twenty kilometers long.[29] On the Athenian side, the way now lay open for Agesilaos to follow literally in the footsteps of his father, to enter the plain of Eleusis, and to proceed with a general invasion of Attica. The plain of Athens was shielded from Eleusis by the substantial ridge of Aigaleos, and east of this barrier lay approximately 90 percent of the cultivable land and more than 90 percent of the demes of Attica. Only one opening through this barrier was suitable for the passage of an invading army. This was the Aigaleos-Parnes gap, which was precisely the route used by Archidamos in 431.[30] Here the Dema wall was constructed in the spring of 378.

Chabrias, whose election to the generalship is reported by Diodoros in the spring of 378, immediately upon the declaration of war on Sparta, is the only general of this year known to us to have had prior experience in the field. Since his experience included the construction of stockades, entrenchments, and other fortifications along the Egyptian-Palestinian frontier, and since he emerged later in

378 as the commander responsible for Athenian support to Thebes and was generally the most renowned commander on the Athenian-Theban side in the campaigns around Thebes in 378 and 377, it is highly probable that Chabrias was directly responsible for the design and construction of both the Dema wall and the Theban stockade.[31]

In terms of Chabrias' prior experience, the Theban stockade and earthworks bore a much closer resemblance than the Dema wall to the fieldworks he had supervised in the flat delta land of Egypt. How closely they may have resembled each other we do not know, from the brief accounts that survive. It is clear, however, that the Egyptian works contained many elements inappropriate to the Greek setting, in particular, channels to divert water and to flood the landward approaches to fortified positions. The sheer scale of these undertakings is, however, a re-

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markable feature common to both projects, and there can be no doubt that so ambitious a scheme at Thebes in Boiotia was envisioned and encouraged by Chabrias' experience in Egypt.

In terms of scale, the Dema wall, a mere three kilometers in length, was by far the less ambitious undertaking. But its short length was offset by the more intractable building material it required. Here no trenches could be dug, mounds piled, or stakes set. The wall had to be built out of limestone, hewn out of bedrock on the spot, with the mass of the wall heaped up by hand but with the larger stones of the wall face dressed at least roughly by masons with some skill. The plan of this wall, crossing more undulating and precipitous ground than either the Theban or the Egyptian works, called for different principles in laying out its course and in developing its tactical refinements. The chief refinement here—not an innovation but a local adaptation—was the frequency of sally ports, which were to be used exclusively by foot troops, whereas on Theban terrain allowances had to be made for the regular deployment of cavalry. Here again, Chabrias' Egyptian service provided him with no precedents for these details in the Dema wall. But Chabrias' practical experience in forming and leading troops in the typical landscapes of Greece provided all the precedent needed for planning these features. The modulations from long and narrow wall-sections across steep ground to short and massive sections on level ground correspond to the proportionate depths and widths of each platoon, or lochos , as it might be arrayed across such a landscape.[32] Likewise, the course of the wall corresponds to the most sensible line for drawing up a defending force across the terrain in this pass.

Construction of the Dema wall must have been carried out in the space of a few days, certainly less than a week, by a military call-up of all able-bodied citizens and residents of Athens. Such a mass levy, consisting of

[Full Size](Thucydides 4.90.1) had been deployed to Delion in 424, where well over ten thousand

[Full Size], mostly unarmed, had turned out in this

[Full Size]for the purpose of constructing the fortifications of Delion, which were mostly completed in the space of two and a half days (Thucydides 4.90, 94). A similar expedition was sent out from Athens to Corinth in 391 for

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the purpose of rebuilding the long walls from Corinth to Lechaion. The force was

[Full Size], en masse, and included stonemasons and carpenters (many of whom may have been foreigners or metics), and it completed the west long wall, facing Spartan forces at Sikyon, "in a few days," while the east wall was completed "in a more leisurely manner" (Xenophon Hellenika 4.4.18).[33] The stonemasons and carpenters of 391 were those who were at that time finishing the restoration of the circuit walls of Peiraieus. In the years that followed, after first rebuilding their own ruinous long walls, the Athenians also rebuilt substantial portions of the circuit of Athens, walls which had not been destroyed in 404 but were now in need of refurbishing. In view of the fact that Peiraieus did not yet have doors on its gates by the spring of 378, it is possible that this refurbishing work had also proceeded slowly and had only just been completed, if it even was complete, by 378. In any event, the general stylistic resemblance between the masonry of certain of the more care-fully worked portions of the Dema wall and the masonry of the early fourth-century (so-called Kononian) phase of the city walls of Athens can now be explained by their close contemporaneity.[34]

Simultaneously, the system of lookout and signal towers noted in chapter 3 was constructed. It is significant that no tower that can be associated with the system by its form and plan was constructed any farther into the western mountains than the Velatouri tower. This tower, with Plakoto, was an intermediary between the garrison forts of Panakton and Oinoe on the frontiers and Eleusis and the rest of Attica, and these forts marked the limits of Athenian control of the frontier area at the beginning of the summer of 378. Beyond them lay a skirmishing zone, where both sides would contend for control of the passes but where, in the spring of 378, the Spartans momentarily held the advantage.

Agesilaos and the Campaign of 378The war known to us as the Boiotian War was surely referred to as the Theban War by the Spartans.[35] It had begun with a slaughter of Spartan

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supporters at Thebes, and retribution for those murders was the justification for Sparta's military reaction. The primary objective of the Spartans in the spring of 378 was the same as it had been under Kleombrotos: to isolate and reduce Thebes. Unlike Athens, Thebes was landlocked and surrounded by hostile bases. The Spartans had every reason to hope that the preparations made by Kleombrotos could now be brought to fruition. By denying the Thebans the produce of their land and by over-whelming them in numbers if they chose to come out and fight, the Spartans could expect to grind them down, by siege if necessary, as they had recently done to the Phleiasians and Olynthians.[36]

If Athens had been forced to stand aloof from Thebes, as had seemed possible until the raid of Sphodrias backfired, there is every reason to believe that the beginning of summer would have seen the beginning of the Peloponnesian siege of Thebes. Now the situation was more complicated. Athenian support for Thebes was a significant obstacle, but not an insuperable one. Combined Athenian and Theban forces were by no means equal to the Peloponnesian army, but they were strong enough to prevent Thebes from being easily invested. Proof of this, if proof were needed, was furnished by the fieldworks under preparation around Thebes. This, and all other defensive preparations undertaken by their foes, would not have gone unnoticed by the Spartans.

With the adherence of Athens to the Theban side, the Spartan strategy for the war necessarily changed. Now the Spartans had to pre-pare to engage the combined forces of Thebes and Athens in the open field. If that could be done at an opportune moment, then the Spartans could still reasonably hope that the strength of their forces would tell and that the armies, and the resolve, of the Thebans and Athenians would be broken. The situation called for considerable skill and, more than that, the nerve to press home, at the right moment, a frontal attack that was bound to be bloody on both sides. On both counts, the long experience of Agesilaos recommended him as the commander for this campaign. Skill as a commander Agesilaos had amply demonstrated in all his previous campaigns. He had outgeneraled his enemies on many occasions, especially in the course of his Asian campaigns of 396-394, for which, according to Diodoros (15.31.3-4), Agesilaos'

leadership was acclaimed. Of requisite nerve Agesilaos had given signal proof at Koro-

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neia sixteen years earlier, when he had had the opportunity to allow the Theban army to flee, but instead he had deliberately led his phalanx into a collision with the Thebans in an effort to destroy them outright.[37] Such resolve was needed now, if Sparta was to break the link between Athens and Thebes and to begin the blockade of Thebes in earnest.

The defeat of Thebes, therefore, was the ultimate objective of Agesilaos' campaign. But if Agesilaos could weaken Thebes by first attacking Athens, there would be every reason to do so. Agesilaos had given ample demonstration in the past of his ability to deceive his foes about his immediate objective, attacking where he was least expected.[38] The Athenians had to be prepared for that possibility. If they were not, Agesilaos could easily plan to include the devastation of at least a portion of Attica in his campaign, with the immediate hope that he might divert the Athenians away from Thebes or even overman and cut up the Athenians in the field.

The demonstration of preparedness by the Athenians forestalled such a strategy. Through their signal system, the Athenians were assured of timely information about the movement of Agesilaos' army. More important, the Dema wall displayed what the Athenians were pre-pared to do in the event of an invasion of Attica. Numbers, speed, and ingenuity might gain the plain of Eleusis for Agesilaos, but none of these qualities would allow him to pass beyond it into the greater part of Attica. The Athenians, in other words, were making a clear demonstration of what they were prepared to give up in exchange for limiting Peloponnesian depredations to a tolerable and ineffectual minimum. The Dema position was an exceedingly strong one—much stronger by nature than the protracted line of the Theban stockade—and his spies would surely inform Agesilaos of its strength. Knowing its strength and knowing that the Athenians would make light of whatever else the Peloponnesian army might do west of this position, Agesilaos was strongly discouraged from opening his offensive with an invasion of Attica.

The decision to proceed directly against Thebes in the summer campaign of 378 was thus the most logical one, for there Spartan preparations were the strongest and there, though the Thebans and Athenians had gone to great lengths to attempt to redress the balance, his foes were clearly the most vulnerable.

Agesilaos could not assume that passage through Kithairon would be easy, regardless of the advantages enjoyed by the Spartans in having one

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end of the route anchored in the allied territory of Megara and the other end secured by a garrison at Plataia and an army at Thespiai. Though their patrols might move through Kithairon regularly, and lookouts could keep watch over the approaches, control of the heights could be challenged by the enemy at any moment. No moment was more likely for a challenge than when the Peloponnesian levy was on its way.

The army at Thespiai was the principal operational force in Boiotia for the Spartans, and patrols across Kithairon likely originated from it. Movements from Thespiai were no doubt closely watched by the The-bans, who could expect that preparations for the arrival of Agesilaos' army would be observed first at Thespiai. Agesilaos therefore took care to secure the Kithairon passes from the Megarian side in order to assure that no advance warning of preparations for his arrival would be given. He arranged for a mercenary force, temporarily diverted for this purpose from their employment at Kletor in Arkadia, to precede him from the Peloponnese to Kithairon. If the Athenians and Thebans had been expecting to challenge him during his crossing, he successfully headed them off by this maneuver. As a further precaution, Agesilaos also seems to have moved his army from the Isthmus across Kithairon with greater speed than was usual for a force of its size.[39]

The employment of the mercenaries from Kletor had a further strategic value to Agesilaos. They were to take control of the passage through Kithairon not only for Agesilaos' passage into Boiotia but also to remain there for the duration of his campaign, assuring him of a safe passage out of Boiotia afterward. He did not want to be forced to take the difficult route via Kreusis and Aigosthena, as had Kleombrotos, nor to risk surprise by any strong enemy force gathered in his rear. Freed of this concern, he could concentrate the maximum numbers of the Peloponnesian army, both that accompanying him and that already at Thespiai, on the task awaiting him at Thebes.

Chabrias and the Campaign of 378Sometime between mid-May and mid-June 378, Agesilaos arrived at Thespiai. There he allowed his men a few days' rest while he received reports and prepared to lead his army agaist the Thebans. Now com-

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bined with the force left by Kleombrotos, Agesilaos' army numbered 1,500 cavalry and over 28,000 infantry, at least 20,000 of which were hoplites. The assembly and preparation of Agesilaos' full force also allowed the Thebans time to position themselves in readiness behind their fieldworks and to effect their own union with the army brought by Chabrias.[40]

Diodoros remarks that "when the Athenians learned of the arrival of the Lakedaimonians in Boiotia, they went straight to the support of Thebes" (15.32.2). Given the urgency of timely support for the Thebans, we may assume that the intelligence was carried by visual signal relay from outposts on the frontier to Chabrias' camp at the Dema. Chabrias, the mastermind of the defensive strategy now deployed against Agesilaos' host, was effective commander of the Athenian force. His term of of-rice as Athenianstrategos had technically not yet begun, however, so command officially resided with the strategos Demeas, son of Demades.[41] The force under the command of these two men consisted of both mercenary and citizen hoplites, 5,000 in round numbers, almost certainly mercenary peltasts in addition to that number, and 200 Athenian cavalrymen (Diodoros 15.32.2; see also appendix III). The force set out from its camp behind the Dema wall and proceeded by the most direct route to Thebes. This led northwest past Phyle and Panakton,

across the Skourta plain, and down into the Asopos valley, entering Theban territory some-where in the vicinity of Skolos. The total distance by this route from the

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Dema to Thebes is just over sixty kilometers. To judge by comparison to Sphodrias' march, this distance could be accomplished in a single day only with great difficulty, if the army was on the move for twelve to fourteen hours. More likely, the march was divided over two days, especially since the arrival of the Peloponnesians in Boiotia was probably signaled only toward the end of their last day of march. A short march in the evening followed by a long march the next day would seem to be the most likely way for Chabrias to have brought his supporting force to the Thebans. The resulting assembly of the Thebans and their allies was an army that numbered hardly more than 12,000 hoplites, perhaps 5,000 to 6,000 light-armed infantry, and at least 1,700 cavalry.[42]

Agesilaos set out from Thespiai along the route previously used by Kleombrotos, moving into the upper Asopos valley to enter Theban territory at Kynos Kephalai. There he was held up for several days along the line of the Theban stockade by defensive maneuvers of the Thebans described by Xenophon. Eventually, when the Theban routine had be-come familiar to Agesilaos, he succeeded in crossing the stockade by surprising the defenders in an early morning march.

Through discreet omissions, Xenophon provides a consistently favor-able impression of Agesilaos' skill in this campaign. According to Xenophon, Agesilaos distinguished himself first by crossing the troublesome stockade and then by devastating Theban fields "up to the city." There-after, he withdrew to Thespiai, and after arranging affairs there, he crossed Kithairon to Megara, where his army was disbanded. Other sources provide different perspectives, and of the events neglected by Xenophon, the most significant in this campaign was the encounter between Chabrias and Agesilaos, which is described by Diodoros and other sources dependent upon Ephoros.[43]

The event was a face-off and not a battle, but it was remarkable from the Theban and Athenian perspective because it demonstrated the in-ability, or the unwillingness, of Agesilaos to commit his army to pitched battle against vastly outnumbered defenders. Credit for this defensive victory is given to Chabrias, whose fame is attested not only by the acclamations he is said to have received on this occasion, according to Ephoros, but also by the account of Demosthenes, who recites this encounter

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as the first in a list of notable achievements of Chabrias (although it is chronologically not the first), remembered soon after the death of that distinguished general.[44]

The encounter between Chabrias and Agesilaos took place immediately after Agesilaos had led his army across the stockade and into Theban territory. The penetration of their defenses by the Peloponnesians meant that the Thebans and

Athenians had either to withdraw to Thebes or to take up a new defensive stance unprotected by any fortifications. They adopted the latter course, although it meant that Agesilaos might have his pitched battle if he chose to attack.

The Theban and Athenian army arrayed itself along the crest of a long and gently sloping hill to face the phalanx of the Peloponnesians, which approached from below. Action was begun by Agesilaos, who sent his skirmishers against the enemy formation, "testing their disposition to fight" (Diodoros 15.32.4). These men were easily dispersed by the Theban and Athenian light troops counterattacking from higher ground. Although our sources do not mention them in this connection, the more numerous Theban and Athenian cavalry probably also aided in neutralizing the Peloponnesian light troops, as well as their cavalry, since the terrain of the battlefield was everywhere well suited for cavalry. The result, in any event, was that the two phalanxes now stood face-to-face, ready to advance to battle.

This moment was the creation of Spartan strategy, and battle now was imperative if the war against Thebes were to succeed. As he had done sixteen years earlier, Agesilaos began his advance to battle against the Thebans and their allies, leading the Spartans at the fight end of his line. On the former occasion, the two armies were roughly a match in numbers. Now it was clear to all that Agesilaos led the superior force. The orderly advance of the Spartans, "a solid mass of bronze and scar-let," as Xenophon described it in 394 (Agesilaos 2.7), was intended to intimidate—it was arrayed

[Full Size], "in a terrifying manner," according to Diodoros, speaking of 378 (15.32.4). In 394, Agesilaos achieved his intended effect, for the Argives arrayed opposite him broke and ran before he ever closed with them. Now he had Chabrias, with his mercenaries and his Athenians, facing him.

The front rank of the Theban force, holding the right half of the

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allied line, was composed of Gorgidas' elite corps, the Sacred Band, who made their debut on the battlefield that day. The front rank of the Athenian force holding the left half of the line must likewise have been made up of an elite corps, in this case Chabrias' seasoned mercenary hoplites.[45] The success of the following maneuver is incomprehensible otherwise.

Moving up the gradual slope, Agesilaos must have looked anxiously for a sign that the enemy was about to lose heart, a sign that would encourage his allies to press home their attack just as he knew the Spar-tans would, following his lead. In a moment, his own will was broken by an incredible sight.

When the opposing lines were still separated by at least two hundred meters, but when the moment of commitment was fast approaching, the troops led by Chabrias, "as if by a single word of command," suddenly removed their shields from their shoulders, propped them against their knees, and stood at ease, with their spear butts resting on the ground, points straight up in the air. Gorgidas commanded his men to adopt the same stance. The maneuver was probably performed only by

the front rank. Its unison required the confidence of a well-drilled team. Its execution by the entire army would have been both unduly risky and exceedingly difficult in the close order of a mass formation with its nerves at the breaking point. In fact, Polyainos reports that the maneuver was executed in place of the expected command to charge, indicating that it came at the moment when an army needed to steel its resolve to fight by acting rather than by passively awaiting the enemy's charge, which was a sure formula for panic and flight. The effect of this maneuver by the elite front rank was threefold: it reassured the ranks behind that the men at the front were united in obedience to their commanders; it pre-vented a precipitate charge, which could have dangerously weakened the formation of the allies; and it signaled to the Peloponnesians that neither the Thebans nor the Athenians were going to give way, but that

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they were all of one mind and well prepared to take up their arms, close ground, and fight it out at the decisive moment. Before that moment came, Agesilaos commanded the trumpeter to sound the retreat.[46]

The Peloponnesian phalanx was withdrawn to the level plain, where it stood in formation for some time, offering the Thebans and Athenians their chance to initiate battle. No one could expect the Thebans and Athenians to attack the more numerous Peloponnesians on ground that favored their numbers, however, so Agesilaos offered the inducement of showing the Thebans the devastation of their land. None of this had the effect Agesilaos desired. Although the Peloponnesian phalanx there-after moved unchallenged across the flat land south of Thebes, skirmishing between light troops and cavalry on both sides must have been vigorous, and it is hard to believe that the Peloponnesians had the better of any such engagements. The reason is the superior numbers of the The-ban and Athenian cavalry, who had already taken their toll on the Peloponnesian cavalry and peltasts even before Agesilaos had crossed the stockade. Diodoros reports that Agesilaos' army returned to Thespiai in possession of "a great quantity of spoils" (15.32.6). Xenophon, perhaps here closer to the truth, is content to report that Agesilaos "cut and burned," or "devastated" Theban fields (Hellenika 5.4.41;Agesilaos 2.22).

Although he never mentions Chabrias in this campaign and never describes the battle that almost was, Xenophon does allude to the stand-off in his encomium of Agesilaos when he observes that, after crossing the stockade, Agesilaos "offered to do battle with the Thebans both in the plain and in the hills, if they chose to fight" (Agesilaos 2.22). By this, Xenophon acknowledges what Ephoros recorded, namely, that Agesilaos himself declined to initiate battle despite his strength. He had failed to achieve the most essential objective of the campaign against Thebes, and without a blow he had even allowed his army to be turned back in the face of an inferior enemy. That failure was remarked upon at the time:The Spartan advisers, who accompanied Agesilaos, and his officers ex-pressed to him their surprise that Agesilaos, who reputedly was a man of

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energy and had the larger and more powerful force, should have avoided a decisive contest with the enemy.[47]

Agesilaos' response, according to Diodoros and Xenophon, was to assert that the Lakedaimonians had won the victory without a blow, for though he, as the invader, had offered to do battle, the defenders had declined to fight and had allowed him to plunder Theban land, granting to him the sign of the unchallenged victor. This, however, was mere exculpation on the part of Agesilaos, a sop to discouraged comrades and allies, and encomiastic hyperbole on the part of Xenophon. The more important consideration, also acknowledged by Agesilaos, was that men who displayed such resolve as his enemies would not yield to intimidation and would fight it out, at great cost to both sides. Knowing his own army and understanding the tactical situation, Agesilaos judged that the risk of defeat to the Spartan side was too great.[48] His judgment on that score deserves full credit.

Chabrias had trumped Agesilaos. Although he and his men, facing the Spartans, might well have broken and run, avoiding the consequences of battle and knowing that the consequences of flight were more remote for them than for the Thebans, he and they had stood firm and had preserved intact the vital link between Thebes and Athens that now held Sparta at bay. Their failure to stop Agesilaos from laying waste to a part of Theban land was trivial by comparison to Agesilaos' failure to break that link. The stand near Thebes was proof in action of the resourceful-ness and the resolve of Chabrias and his allies to deny the Spartans the benefit of their strength in numbers, the very source of Spartan power. This was the same resolve that the Dema wall demonstrated in stone.

Frustrated at his first attempt, Agesilaos was compelled to recognize that instead of holding a tighter noose around Thebes, Spartan forces in Boiotia would now themselves have to endure the assaults of the more confident Thebans. The fortification of Thespiai, Agesilaos' last act be-fore leaving Boiotia in 378, was an open acknowledgment of this state of affairs.[49]

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The Campaign of 377Agesilaos left a new harmost at Thespiai, Phoibidas, and with him probably the same portion of the Peloponnesian levy that Kleombrotos had previously left, only rotating the allied contingents so that all might have their share of duty on the Boiotian front. In addition to keeping Kithairon open, Phoibidas' mission was much the same as that of Agis at Dekeleia some thirty-odd years earlier, to make war (

[Full Size], Thucydides 7.27.4) by doing as much damage as he could to Theban property. This was a mutual preoccupation, and the Thebans likewise raided the territory of Thespiai and that of Sparta's other allies in the area. Probably toward the end of the summer of 378, the Thebans came out in force against Phoibidas, plundering Thespian territory and eventually routing Phoibidas' troops, slaying Phoibidas himself in the process.[50]

Xenophon remarks that this event encouraged not only the Thebans but also their supporters in other Boiotian cities, many of whom moved to Thebes, while at

the same time it led to a growing need for support on the part of the friends of Sparta in Boiotia. Still, according to Xenophon, the Spartans did no more than replace Phoibidas with a new commander, who came to Thespiai with a Spartan mora . Numerically, this reinforcement amounted perhaps to no more than a replacement of the numbers lost with Phoibidas. Symbolically, it represented a deepening commitment on the part of the Spartans, for it was probably the first Lakedaimonian contingent to be committed to garrison duty alongside the allies in Boiotia. Sparta's allies felt the need for more than symbolic reinforcement, but at this point, the Spartans could do little more to support them. The new commander evidently had a more immediate worry. He had brought his force into Boiotia by ship across the Corinthian gulf. This suggests that after the death of Phoibidas, the Thebans and, possibly, the Athenians were encouraged to take the offensive on Kithairon. If this was the case, the new Spartan commander would be preoccupied with the restoration of Spartan control of Kithairon.[51]

With the coming of spring, the Spartan strongholds in Boiotia were in much the same state, in material terms, as they had been a year be-

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fore. In terms of morale, especially among Boiotian allies, the Spartan cause was beginning to suffer and badly needed some conspicuous success in the field to buoy it. Agesilaos had to devise some way of achieving a more decisive victory in this campaign. For all the same reasons contemplated in 378, a campaign in Attica could be ruled out as unprofitable. Knowing now how the Theban-Athenian forces operated, how-ever, Agesilaos could see a way by which he might yet be able to achieve his goal of breaking this union. It required timing, surprise, and advance preparation.

As in 378, the Kithairon passes had to be strongly guarded before the approach of his army to assure that no Athenian force could dislodge his men before his own arrival. The dispatch of a supplementary force from the Peloponnese could satisfy such a requirement this year just as well as it had in the previous year. However, Agesilaos' plan required a different arrangement. He sent word to the commander at Thespiai to occupy the passes with the force already at his disposal (Xenophon Hellenika 5.4.47). This procedure had the advantage of allowing Agesilaos to join the army from Thespiai to his own without first going to Thespiai. It had the disadvantage of removing the extra garrison force from the pass upon his entry into Boiotia, making his return trip potentially more difficult. Agesilaos' primary concern, however, was to make head-way against Thebes during this campaign, and for this purpose, he required all available forces to accompany him. As will be seen, Agesilaos had specific plans for an additional force this season which precluded his leaving a strong force on Kithairon.

The arrangements for crossing Kithairon worked well, and Agesilaos arrived at Plataia at the end of a day's march with his force at full strength. Word was sent ahead to Thespiai that all preparations were to be made for the arrival of his army: a market was to be prepared for their provisioning, and such ambassadors as wished to have an audience with him should await him there. The Thebans were evidently taken in by these preparations and assembled their force at Kynos Kephalai, as they had the previous year, in anticipation of Agesilaos' approach from Thespiai. But here Agesilaos deceived his opponents by leaving Plataia at an unexpected hour in an

unexpected direction. An early march at dawn the next morning enabled Agesilaos once again to penetrate the Theban stockade at an undefended point at Skolos, far to the east of Kynos Kephalai. It also placed his army directly astride the route of Chabrias' march to Thebes on the very day that Chabrias' army would come to the aid of the Thebans.[52]

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No source even hints that Agesilaos intended to intercept the Athenians on this occasion. That this was his purpose can only be deduced from circumstantial evidence, but that evidence is compelling. Not only was Agesilaos in the right place at the right time to catch Chabrias and the Athenians, but such a stratagem was precisely what Agesilaos needed in order to avoid a repetition of the previous campaign's frustration. Further circumstantial evidence, moreover, suggests that Agesilaos had in mind to dose the routes between Thebes and Athens as a result of this campaign.

The reason no source mentions this stratagem is, most likely, that it did not even come close to working. The Athenians at this time were nothing if not vigilant. Scouts and lookouts from Panakton, or in advance of Chabrias' own force, would have had no difficulty spotting in time the danger that lay in their path. The Asopos valley is wide, and the land between Thebes and Tanagra is dissected by many hills and ravines. An army could not guard all possible ways. Theban cavalry was probably the first force to approach Agesilaos from Kynos Kephalai, and it was strong enough to discourage a wide dispersal of Agesilaos' army. If Agesilaos did position his army in a central location—and Skolos was perhaps the most suitable such position—in expectation of moving quickly to intercept Chabrias wherever he might attempt to pass, Chabrias need only have waited for the cover of night to make his passage possible without significant interference. In any event, within two or three days of Agesilaos' arrival at Skolos, the Athenians had success-fully united with the Thebans.[53]

In Xenophon's narrative, Agesilaos' entry into Theban territory at Skolos was followed by his movement farther to the east, to the borders of Tanagraian territory, for the purpose of devastating Theban land in this quarter.[54] Further devastation was not what was needed in this campaign, however, and there is good reason to believe that Agesilaos' accomplishments even in this regard were greatly exaggerated by Xenophon for the benefit of his hero's reputation. Destruction of the enemy's force in the field was what was needed, and this Agesilaos knew could only be done by dividing his opponents or by catching them before they

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had united. His failure to intercept Chabrias was probably soon apparent to him. To have achieved it, Agesilaos would have needed as much advance intelligence specifically in this quarter of the Attic-Boiotian frontier as the Athenians had. Only by turning Tanagra into a second major base of Spartan operations could this have been accomplished.

Xenophon informs us that Agesilaos "devastated Theban territory to the east of Thebes as far as the territory of the Tanagraians; for at that time Hypatodoros and his associates, friends of the Lakedaimonians, still held Tanagra. After this he returned" (Hellenika 5.4.49). Aside from devastation, Xenophon gives no reason for Agesilaos' march in this direction. His reference to the friends of Sparta in power at Tanagra suggests that they had some relevance to his campaign, but as it stands, their mention serves only to inform us why Agesilaos desisted from plundering when he reached the borders of the Tanagraia. Xenophon's prior mention (Hellenika 5.4.46) of the growing need for support among the friends of Sparta in Boiotian cities adds to the suspicion that Agesilaos did more than just turn back once he reached the frontier with Tanagra. Actual evidence of his purpose emerges from a reference to the harmost Panthoidas and a strong force (

[Full Size]) under his command at Tanagra, whose defeat in battle is mentioned in passing by Plutarch (Pelopidas 15.4). Although it is dangerous to base an argument on Xenophon's omissions, it seems unlikely that Panthoidas was stationed at Tanagra before Agesilaos' campaign of 377, for in that case (and especially in light of Hellenika 5.4.46) Xenophon ought to have mentioned him and his garrison, and not merely Hypatodoros, in de-scribing how Tanagra was disposed toward Sparta. It seems reasonable to conclude, therefore, that Xenophon, whether deliberately or through ignorance, mistook Agesilaos' incidental activity (devastation) for his primary purpose and failed to report that Agesilaos had installed Panthoidas with a strong garrison at Tanagra. This must have been part of the original plan of his campaign, and it demonstrates that Agesilaos was still thinking of the future and how an increased presence in this quarter might yet shift the balance decisively in favor of Sparta in the war against Thebes.[55]

Agesilaos' return westward from Tanagra was marked by a second encounter with the Thebans and Athenians not unlike his first. This

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time, however, the two sides did come to blows, although only after their opposing phalanxes had broken formation in a complicated series of feints and pursuits. I have discussed the setting and sequence of these events in detail elsewhere.[56] Here the only matter of consequence is to note that the action resulted in the Thebans erecting a trophy after repelling the Peloponnesians and slaying one or more Spartans in the process. Xenophon makes a partial and grudging admission of the Theban success but points out that Agesilaos encamped after the battle on precisely the same eminence, the hill known as Graos Stethos, on which the Thebans and Athenians had originally arrayed themselves in an effort to prevent Agesilaos' passage. Xenophon could not overlook any symbolic victory in describing Agesilaos' accomplishments, no matter how short of their intended goal they might have fallen.

On the following day, according to Xenophon, Agesilaos withdrew to Thespiai, achieving nothing more against the Thebans, except that his Olynthian cavalry, in a rearguard action, cut down a number of Theban peltasts who had pressed their pursuit too far in advance of their hoplite support. In the course of this minor incident, Xenophon makes a passing reference to Chabrias (Hellenika 5.4.54). This is the only point at which Xenophon mentions that Chabrias, or any other Athenian,

was fighting alongside the Thebans. To have given Chabrias his due would have meant revealing Agesilaos' shortcomings. Chabrias is mentioned here only to point out how he failed to support the peltasts in an incident that, in fact, rather contrasts the peltasts' hotheaded enthusiasm with Chabrias' cautious discipline at the sight of Agesilaos' retreat.

Once again, Agesilaos had failed to make his strength in arms tell against the Thebans and Athenians, and this year he had still more Spartan and Peloponnesian dead to bury outside of Thespiai.[57] Allies and supporters of Sparta, in Agesilaos' army and elsewhere, were becoming demonstrably discouraged. Agesilaos now found that he had to intervene in the domestic politics of Thespiai to halt a schism that threatened to lead to civil war in that city. Disaffection for the war among the ranks of Agesilaos' army is anecdotal. One such anecdote, preserved by Polyainos, seems to describe Agesilaos' withdrawal from Boiotia on this oc-

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casion, when he had to cross Kithairon without a friendly force holding the passes for him:Agesilaos, when he had drawn up his army in battle order and saw that they had no will to fight, withdrew. The way out was through a pass in the mountains, in which he expected the Boiotians to attack. Therefore he ordered the Lakedaimonians to lead the van, and the allies to bring up the rear, so that when the enemy attacked the rear guard they would have reason to fight bravely.[58]

When Agesilaos departed from Boiotia in 377, he must have held some hope that the next season could yet see the Spartans in a stronger position in Boiotia. That could only be achieved by even greater commitments of manpower year-round to the war on this front. The process of escalation had already begun in 378 with the dispatch of a Spartan mora to Thespiai, and now it had been furthered by the installation of Panthoidas and a Peloponnesian force ("numerous," according to Plutarch Pelopidas 15.4, but of unknown size) at Tanagra. In his visit to the authorities in Megara after he had disbanded the allies, Agesilaos was probably concerned above all with securing more vigorous Megarian support in patrolling and guarding Kithairon.[59] For Agesilaos knew that the forces he had left in Boiotia would now have their hands full with other tasks.

If another Peloponnesian invasion the following year was to have any better chance of success than Agesilaos had had, the Spartans would have to establish their dominance in the Asopos valley before the next

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spring. Counting Peloponnesian league contingents, Boiotian allies, and mercenaries, the Spartans must now have had far more than ten thou-sand men at their disposal in Boiotia, although the largest parts of these forces were divided between Thespiai and Tanagra. By combined actions, they might perhaps achieve against the Thebans alone what Agesilaos and the full Peloponnesian levy could not achieve against the

The-bans and Athenians together. Failing any decisive battle, Agesilaos could hope that, with a major force now based at Tanagra, the Spartans would be in a better position to intercept Chabrias the following summer. In the meantime, these men would more vigorously carry on the war through plundering raids, in part to contribute to their own maintenance, while defending their allies' lands. In this process, they would gain familiarity with the terrain and perhaps establish their own system of lookouts and intimidate or even eliminate some of the Athenian advanced watchposts.

The Thebans and Athenians were fully cognizant of these developments, and to judge by the results they achieved, we may assume that they responded in kind by concentrating their own forces and by taking the initiative away from the Spartans. The rout of the Spartans at Tanagra, resulting in the death of Panthoidas, sometime between the summers of 377 and 375 (Plutarch Pelopidas 15.4), was a product of their energetic response to the Spartan buildup. Plutarch attributes this success to the Thebans, as he does in every encounter of this war mentioned in his life of Pelopidas. Like the defeat of Phoibidas at Thespiai in 378, this rout might have been the outcome of a Theban expedition against Tanagra, but we cannot rule out the possibility that the Athenians had some part in it. The Athenians must certainly have viewed the gathering of forces at Tanagra as worrisome, and if they did not actually join the Thebans in neutralizing this threat, they at least responded by making sure that their garrisons and watchposts in the countryside, the

[Full Size]

[Full Size](Xenophon Hellenika 6.2.1), were prepared to react to any movement the Spartans might make against them.

In practical terms, this would have consisted of the appropriate placement of the watchposts and the sufficient strength of the garrisons. The Athenian garrison most directly concerned with any threat emanating from Tanagra and affecting Theban-Athenian communications was Panakton. If the fortress at Phyle was already built—and these circumstances provide the earliest, and possibly the most plausible, occasion for the construction of this fort—then its garrison would also have been affected. Further west, the deme and fortress at Oinoe, beside the route from Kithairon to Eleusis, must have been a central point of assembly and supply for forces guarding the northwestern frontier, while the most remote Athenian garrison post lay in the pass at Eleutherai. In this

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quarter, too, there was no less need for vigilance now than there had been in the spring of 378.[60]

These garrisons dose to the frontiers did not have to match the man-power at the disposal of the Spartans just across the frontier, since signal relays to Eleusis and to Athens could summon relief in an emergency. But they did have to be strong enough both to maintain more or less continuous patrols and to assure that any surprise assault by the Spartan forces would have a negligible chance of success. The Athenians might not have felt at ease, however, with merely adequate garrisons under such circumstances. They probably felt the need to have strong forces ready on the frontiers for both defensive purposes, to respond immediately to any raid into the countryside or attack on a position, and for offensive purposes, to carry the war in the "off season" against the neigh-boring allies of Sparta and their Spartan garrisons. As long as the Athenians had the means, there was every incentive to make sure that war took a higher toll on the property and persons of the enemy than on Attica and Athenians. The total manpower requirements for the defense of the countryside, although impossible to calculate with any precision, must therefore have amounted to a considerable burden. A number on the order of 2,500 men would have been an absolute minimum figure for the year-round garrisoning of all of these posts and Eleusis as well.[61]

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If, as I suggest, the Athenians were not satisfied with absolute minimums, the garrison force could have been double or even triple that number.

The Closing of KithaironIn one quarter of the frontier, we know that the Athenians were as active as the Thebans after the campaign of 377. The passage from Polyainos quoted above suggests that Agesilaos, upon his withdrawal, had been subjected to harassment on his way through Kithairon. This was the foreseeable consequence of his need to concentrate all available man-power in reinforcing Spartan allies in Boiotia. If the Megarians had been asked to assume responsibility for guarding Kithairon, they failed to do so, and the balance that had begun to swing against the Spartans at the time of Agesilaos' withdrawal had been turned decisively against them by the spring of 376. For by the time that Kleombrotos, replacing the ailing Agesilaos, approached Kithairon to make his crossing into Boiotia with the Peloponnesian army in 376, a Theban and Athenian force held the heights of Kithairon and was able to prevent his crossing (the ascent of the main road from the Megarid is shown in figure 41).[62]

Xenophon's account of this affair represents only the climax of a process that must have involved a prolonged and energetic struggle by both sides to control Kithairon. Whatever actions might have gone on in the months before Kleombrotos' march, the moment of his arrival in the Megarid was crucial and was probably accompanied or immediately pre-ceded by an attempt to dislodge the Thebans and Athenians launched by the Spartan forces in Boiotia. It is hard to believe that Kleombrotos would not have made as much of an effort as Agesilaos to secure the passes before him, although Xenophon's silence on the matter would imply, to Kleombrotos' disgrace, that he did not. But Kleombrotos was not inexperienced with this route and could not have proceeded in ignorance of the situation ahead of him,

and it is difficult to believe that he could have been as negligent or as timorous as Xenophon makes him out to be. In view of his own experience on Kithairon and his careful preparations in Boiotia during the winter of 378, and in view of Spartan experience in the preceding two campaigns, Kleombrotos must surely have ordered the commander at Thespiai to make every effort to clear

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the passes for his arrival. This time, however, the Thebans and Athenians held the upper hand, and the attempt failed.[63]

The closing of Kithairon was a major turning point in the war. It marked the achievement of what Theban and Athenian strategists two and a half years earlier had believed was feasible. Now it was a reality: Peloponnesian forces could no longer proceed overland into Boiotia and could likewise probably be prevented from entering Attica. Now, however, unlike the situation optimistically forecast in the winter of 379/8, the Spar-tans had strong forces based north of Kithairon. The allies could in no way afford to relax their vigilance, on Kithairon or in Boiotia, after the repulse of Kleombrotos.

For the Athenians, in fact, the repulse of Kleombrotos marked the beginning of more intensive pressures on themselves. For in 376, the Spartans and their allies shifted their offensive strategy away from Boiotia, where for the time being they had to content themselves with a war of raids and skirmishes while holding on to their allies and strongholds, to a naval strategy intended to cripple Athens. In the autumn of 376, Chabrias won even greater glory than he had in Boiotia by leading the Athenians in the naval victory at Naxos that put a stop to Spartan plans to blockade Athens by sea. But beginning this summer, if not even earlier in the war, the Athenians had to endure raids against their coasts and coastal shipping by Spartan forces operating out of Aigina. These circumstances required almost as much vigilance along the seaboard as along the land frontier.[64]

The Spartans had meanwhile not yet completely lost hope of making headway in the war against Thebes. Xenophon informs us that, in the spring of 375, preparations were under way to transport a Peloponnesian army across the Corinthian gulf into Boiotia and that the Thebans prevailed upon the Athenians to forestall that event by sending a naval

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expedition under Timotheos around the Peloponnese to Kerkyra and the mouth of the Corinthian gulf. This expedition had the desired effect, momentarily diverting Spartan naval forces to the waters of Akarnania, where Timotheos dealt the Spartans a second blow to their naval aspirations in the battle of Alyzeia.[65]

The Thebans were now doubly benefiting from the support of the Athenians. Athenian forces on the Kithairon frontier were instrumental in deterring any attempt at an overland invasion this season, and Athenian naval forces had for the time being prevented the Spartans from conveying their army directly into Boiotia by sea. Encouraged by the course of events, "the Thebans were boldly campaigning against

the neighboring cities of Boiotia and were in the process of recovering control of them" (Hellenika 5.4.63). One sign of the vigor of the Thebans was the notable victory of Pelopidas over more numerous Spartan forces at Tegyra early in the year. Substantive gains made at about the same time were the subjection of Thespiai and Tanagra to Theban domination.[66]

By the midsummer of 375, the Thebans had even begun to carry the war against the Phokians, who were allies of Sparta. The Spartans, in turn, with the fleet withdrawn from Akarnania, conveyed Kleombrotos with two-thirds of the Peloponnesian levy across the Corinthian gulf into Phokis. Kleombrotos began to assemble an even larger allied army around his force from the Peloponnese, and for the moment he checked the progress of the Thebans, prompting them to prepare for an invasion now to come from the west.[67] Under these circumstances, not long after midsummer, the Athenians and Spartans came to terms of peace.

The Peace of 375Xenophon describes the peace of 375 as an agreement between Athens and Sparta and as the product of Athenian initiative:

― 173 ―The Lakedaimonians and their allies were gathering together with the Phokians, and the Thebans had withdrawn to their own country and were guarding the passes. As for the Athenians, since they saw the Thebans were growing in power through their support, and were making no financial contribution toward the fleet, while they themselves were being worn down by war levies [eisphorai ], and by raids from Aigina, and by guarding the countryside [

[Full Size]], conceived a desire to put an end to the war, and sending ambassadors to Lakedaimon, they made peace.[68]

There is no reason to doubt any of the information Xenophon provides in this instance. The various considerations listed by Xenophon that led the Athenians to prefer peace at this moment are confirmed elsewhere, and other accounts demonstrate that the peace of 375 served Athenian interests above all others. Although the other combatants had reasons enough to support a cessation of hostilities at this time (a peace initiative could not succeed otherwise), the moment was of most immediate concern to the Athenians. The report of Diodoros that peace was brought at the initiative of the Persian king so that he might more readily gain the service of a large army of mercenaries for his campaign against Egypt deserves no more credit than his account of the occasion for the recall of Chabrias at the beginning of the war. In both instances, the interests of the Persian king coincided with those of Athens, and now the Athenians themselves were ready to introduce the wishes, if not even the emissaries, of the king into the process of negotiation to further their own agenda. But the king's ponderous and retarded preparations for war on Egypt can have had little immediate bearing on the peace process of 375, especially by comparison to the urgency felt by the Athenians at this moment.[69]

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The reasons for that urgency are those listed by Xenophon, and their priority is, by and large, in the order that he gives them. "The Thebans were growing in power through their support." The combustible dichotomy of Athenian opinion about the advisability of cooperating with Thebes had been amply demonstrated in the double volte-face that took place between the campaigns of Kleombrotos and Agesilaos in 378. After Kleombrotos, the Athenians were prepared to leave the Thebans to face Sparta alone. Only the providential failure of Sphodrias changed their minds. Thereafter they became committed to the Thebans for their mutual preservation. Now, after the failure of Kleombrotos in 376 and the naval victories of Chabrias and Timotheos in 376 and 375, the preservation of both was amply assured. The longer the fighting went on, however, the greater were the gains made by the Thebans. The last thing that the Athenians wanted out of their alliance with Thebes was to make it the vehicle for the Theban restoration of the Boiotian confederacy. That was rapidly beginning to happen in 375, so it was time for the Athenians to halt the process.[70]

Diodoros' account of the Thebans' disaffection with the form of this peace treaty is to be believed and not discounted as a doublet of the later and more famous Theban complaint of 371.[71] The treaty was made by

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Athens and Sparta, and the remaining warring states would have been included in it only as allies of the two mutually acknowledged great powers.[72] Theban disapproval was the inevitable result of an agreement made between the Spartans, who had gone to war to crush the independent Thebans, and the Athenians, whose championship of Thebes was motivated only by the desire to check the power and influence of Sparta and who did not wish to promote the growth of Theban power and influence. It was, in other words, a treaty explicitly designed to hold the Thebans in check. No wonder, then, that in discussion preliminary to ratification of the treaty by the allies of Athens, Epameinondas announced the refusal of the Thebans to endorse the treaty under any name other than "the Boiotians," that is, as the leaders of all Boiotia (or at least those parts of it now under Theban control). By the remonstrance of Kallistratos and the vote of all other Athenian allies, the Thebans were denied this privilege and were judged to be excluded from the treaty, according to Diodoros (15.38.3). Isokrates informs us that after their exclusion, the Thebans yielded to the consequences of their isolation and came to be included in the peace as allies of Athens (Plataikos 37; cf. 21-22, 33). As in 371, the isolation of Thebes must have meant that it would be left now, with no Athenian support, to face the Spartan army gathered in Phokis. The Thebans were not yet in so strong a position in Boiotia as they would be in 371, so after registering their protest, they submitted to form and endorsed the treaty as "the Thebans." In fact, as their actions in the coming years were to demonstrate, their dominance in Boiotia was in no way diminished by this concession.[73]

The fact that the Thebans "were making no financial contribution toward the fleet" is an amplification of the first concern of the Athenians listed by Xenophon, since in 375 the Athenian fleet had actively contributed to strengthening the Theban position in Boiotia. It also introduces the following concern, which identifies the Athenians alone as bearing the expense of the naval campaign. In fact, none of the allies of Athens at this time made any regular contribution to the maintenance of a

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fleet.[74] The eisphorai imposed upon the residents of Attica yielded the funds by which fleets were manned, but they were never enough to maintain them on campaign for long. The Athenians relied upon the ingenuity of their commanders and counted on their success in battle to provide what the state could not. Xenophon notes the financial straits of Timotheos after his victory in Akarnania, when "he kept sending for money from Athens; for he needed a great deal, inasmuch as he had a great many ships" (Hellenika 5.4.66). Years after the event, Isokrates turned this difficulty to Timotheos' account, by claiming that Timotheos had achieved his victory at a cost to the city of only thirteen talents—pay for only thirteen days.[75] The austerity that lay behind this meager allowance is emphasized by Demosthenes:You know how it stood with our city in the last war with the Lakedaimonians when it seemed unlikely that you could dispatch a fleet. You know that vetches were sold for food. But when you did dispatch it, you obtained peace on your own terms.[76]

This austerity was not the brink of either financial collapse or starvation, although a shortage of cash may well have been hitting home with those liable to pay theeisphora . "Raids from Aigina," preying primarily upon the shipping along the Attic coast, must have created some hard-ship among those whose livelihoods depended upon the mercantile activity of Peiraieus, further reducing the availability of cash. Raids affecting the maritime commerce of Peiraieus also directly affected the Athenian state, which depended heavily upon harbor dues and the metics

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tax for its routine administrative budget.[77] The cost of foodstuffs generally went up, as Demosthenes' comment indicates, but there is no reason to posit a serious shortage. There had been a scare in 376, when the Black Sea grain fleet had been held up by Spartan naval activity, but that momentary worry was soon resolved.[78] Although it is impossible to quantify these difficulties, on balance it seems safe to say that the feeling at Athens was one of growing resentment at having to endure hard-ships—bearable hardships, however—in a cause that now promised, in the long run, to benefit others more than themselves.

The last item mentioned on Xenophon's list, "guarding the countryside" (

[Full Size], literally, "watches of the countryside") was burdensome to the Athenians precisely because it was the most considerable item in their war budget. An excerpt from Didymos' commentary on Demosthenes makes explicit in what this burden consisted:Concerning this peace it is once again Philochoros who has a discussion, saying that it was very similar to that of the Lakonian Antalkidas, and that [the Athenians] gladly accepted it because they were exhausted by the cost of maintaining mercenary troops and had for some time been worn down by the war. This was the occasion that the altar of Peace was built.[79]

The mercenaries of Chabrias had been a significant factor in Athenian planning and strategy since before the outbreak of the war. Nowhere are their numbers given, but we may estimate that Chabrias had, at a minimum, something on the order of

550 to 1,600 men under his leadership at the time of the Theban uprising in 379/8 (see appendix III). The force of mercenaries employed by the Athenians 'would certainly have grown over the course of the war. In 377, immediately following Agesilaos' second campaign, Chabrias went to the support of Athens' new Euboian allies by making an expedition into the Histiaiotis, where he established a garrison to press the war against Oreos, still allied with Sparta.[80] This garrison was probably mostly, if not entirely, a mercenary

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force, and although it must have become self-supporting either through plunder or by maintenance provided by Euboian allies, it was a force brought by an Athenian commander, initially at Athenian expense. This expedition took place at a moment when, by virtue of the installation of Panthoidas at Tanagra, the Athenians had even more reason to be vigilant along their frontiers when the Thebans and Athenians were together making the plans that would lead to the closing of Kithairon to the Spartans the following spring.

A great number of mercenaries must therefore have been available to the Athenians at this time. As discussed earlier, I have estimated that at least 2,500 men were needed to garrison the fortresses and outposts of Attica, and the number was very likely significantly higher.[81] Garrison and patrol duty and raiding the enemy provided the most cost-effective employment for mercenary troops when they were not being used on campaign, and Chabrias' mercenaries had had field experience along this frontier since before the outbreak of the war. These men, certainly augmented by citizen troops and possibly by additional mercenaries, must have formed the frontier garrison force. If this force, mercenary and citizen, hoplite and peltast, numbered only 2,500, then at this time it would have been costing the Athenian state roughly one hundred talents a year.[82] Although the Athenians could offset or defer much of the

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expense through various means, even this minimum estimated cost of garrisoning Attica represented the most substantial recurrent item in the military budget of Athens over the course of the war.[83] The Athenian preoccupation with mercenaries, moreover, is attested indirectly through the association of the peace of 375 with the Persian king's interest in hiring mercenaries. Having assembled a substantial force of mercenaries on their home soil, the Athenians required an immediate outlet for their smooth transfer out of Attica as soon as peace was arranged. As with Chabrias' withdrawal from Egypt in 379, the Athenians found Pharnabazos amenable to their needs.[84]

The peace treaty of 375 was cause for joy and thanksgiving on the part of the Athenians. It was celebrated by the institution of an annual sacri-

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fice to Peace on an altar founded for the occasion[85] By all accounts, it was remembered as the most glorious outcome for the Athenians in all of their wars with Sparta. Twenty years later, Isokrates spoke of this as a peacethat so transformed the relative positions of the two cities that, from that day on, we commemorate it in sacrifice as having benefited the city more than any other peace. For since that time no one has seen a Lakedaimonian fleet sailing this side of cape Malea, nor Lakedaimonian infantry making an expedition across the Isthmus.[86]

This war had enabled the Athenians to bring into existence a new naval confederacy, with themselves as its leader. Secured by victories in two great sea battles, the Athenians saw this confederacy as a rebirth of Athenian ascendancy and the end of unchallenged Spartan domination in much of Greece and the Aegean. For some time previously, the Athenians had felt, as Isokrates expressed it on the eve of this war, that "formerly our city justly held sovereignty of the sea and now not unjustly lays claim to the hegemony."[87] Now, with things so advantageously arranged by this peace, it is easy to understand why the Athenians celebrated their achievement of hegemony. For that status, though not formally acknowledged in the terms of the treaty, was a de facto product of the treaty that so opportunely concluded the war of 378-375.[88]

PosterityIn 379, on the eve of the Boiotian war, Xenophon remarked, "The Athenians were left destitute of allies, while on the other hand . . . it seemed that [the Lakedaimonians] had at length established their empire most excellently and securely."[89] In the winter of 379/8, bold schemes had

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been launched at Thebes and at Athens to upset the supremacy of Sparta. At the heart of the strategy lay the recognition that an overwhelming land army such as Sparta possessed could be rendered ineffectual by holding key mountain passes against it. Success depended upon a well-coordinated plan of deployment which could anticipate the movements of the enemy. The dangers involved in failure were considerable, and there were limits to how far the Athenians would expose themselves for the sake of the adherence of Thebes. The Spartans were able to demonstrate those dangers to the Athenians when, beyond all expectation, they crossed Kithairon after the liberation of Thebes and proved that they could still make war in Boiotia or in Attica. Demonstration and diplomacy brought the Spartans to within an ace of achieving their goal of isolating Thebes. Only a bungled attempt to make the ultimate demonstration of Spartan power forced the Athenians to enter the war in alliance with Thebes.

The achievements of the Athenians in the war that followed were an often-remembered inspiration to the next generation:Some of you have been told, others know and remember, how formidable the Spartans were, not many years ago, and yet how at the call of honor and duty you played a part not unworthy of your country, and entered the lists against them in defence of your rights. I remind you of this, Athenians, because I want you to know and realize that, as no danger can assail you while you are on your guard, so if you are remiss no success can attend you. Learn a lesson from the former strength of the Lakedaimonians, which you mastered by strict attention to your affairs.[90]

Strict attention to needs and capabilities had been the way out of dire straits in 378. The result became a model for the conduct of territorial defense, reflected in the writings of Aeneas Tacticus, who probably marched with Agesilaos in 378 and 377, and of Plato, with whom Chabrias was later to associate in the Academy.[91] Under the guidance of

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Chabrias in the spring of 378, a strategy was developed by which the strength of the Lakedaimonians might be neutralized along a second line of defense, after the Spartans had brought their army through the Kithairon passes. The Dema wall assured that Attica would be only minimally affected by an invasion of the Peloponnesian army, while a network of lookout and signal posts enabled the Athenians to support their frontier garrisons against raids and to dispatch their forces to the right place at the right time. That this system was never put to the ultimate test was a tribute to its efficacy. The Spartans preferred to concentrate their efforts on the Theban and Athenian army at Thebes, where their strength could be more effectively brought to bear. Yet even there, on the one occasion when the Spartans nearly succeeded in breaking the enemy, Chabrias, facing Agesilaos, proved, in the words of Aristides, to be "the most fearsome commander."[92] In perhaps the most remarkable feat of generalship in the history of Greek warfare, Chabrias was able to project, through the expert drill of his men, a confidence in the face of overwhelming odds that, in effect, neutralized those odds. In a land war with no land battles, the Spartans could not win.

Because the effects of the peace of 375 were overtaken a few years later by the consequences of the battle of Leuktra, the genius of Chabrias never achieved the fame that later came to Epameinondas. Chabrias nevertheless received his due from posterity. "Recall," Demosthenes later eulogized, "how skillfully, as your commander, he drew up your ranks at Thebes to face the whole power of the Peloponnese."[93] This image was called to mind often enough by the statues of Chabrias in his famous pose of disdainful contemplation of the enemy, one of which stood in the Athenian Agora.[94] Although he preferred to omit an account of this episode

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from his history, Xenophon later did acknowledge that Chabrias "was regarded as a very good general."[95] And though Xenophon avoided it, the comparison between Chabrias and Agesilaos was made by others. An anecdote recounted by Polyainos, referring to another occasion early in the career of Chabrias, has Agesilaos himself accord Chabrias the ultimate tribute, exclaiming, "A most excellent general is Chabrias!"[96]

PART FOURPOSTSCRIPT

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SixThe Defense of Attica in the Fourth Century

The circumstances of the land war of 378-375 call to mind Xenophon's advice, from just over a decade later, about posting young light-armed Athenians in the mountains of the frontier in order to "do injury to our enemies while providing a strong bulwark of defense to our citizens in the countryside" (Memorabilia 3.5.27, quoted at the beginning of chapter 1). The fact that such measures deserved exposition in the context of Xenophon's Socratic dialogue suggests that they were a current and perhaps somewhat novel topic of discussion among Athenians at the time Xenophon wrote. Like the various tactical devices and strategies embodied in the defensive scheme of the Dema wall, the deployment of light-armed infantry to defend rough and mountainous terrain was nothing new in the decades around the middle of the fourth century. What was new was the integration of many elements—watchtowers, barrier walls, light infantry and cavalry patrols, and garrison forts—into a system of territorial defense adequate to the needs of Athens and Attica under conditions of war. It was the war of 378-375 that had integrated these elements, and it was the protracted state of hostility between Athens and Thebes beginning in the following decade that assured their institutionalization.

Over the thirty years that the Athenians and Thebans confronted each other in warfare and diplomacy throughout Greece, their armies never crossed their fifty-kilometer-long common frontier in open warfare. The possibility that they would do so prompted preemptive actions at critical moments and gave rise to periodic discussions and reviews of contingency plans and appropriate preparations, as exemplified in the passages from Xenophon's Hipparchikos 7.2-4 and Poroi 4.43-48,

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quoted in chapter 1.[1] The war of 378-375 had focused attention on the problems of guarding Attica: How many men were required? posted at which points? how were these troops to be maintained? All of these issues reemerged in public debate more than once in the following decades.[2]

The crisis of 378-375 had compelled the Athenians to accept the burdens and risks of maintaining a large mercenary force. This expedient was familiar from the Corinthian War when a sizable garrison had been maintained at Corinth. The cost of maintaining that force had been a recurrent topic of discussion among the Athenians, but at least they had been spared the potential indignities and dangers of having a powerful army of foreigners in their own midst.[3] The realities of war on their own

borders introduced them to this unpleasant necessity and prompted them to take thought as to how best to minimize reliance on mercenaries as they faced the continuing demands on manpower for the defense of Attica. The result was the concentration of the duties of citizen ephebes, the young light-armed Athenians spoken of by Xenophon, on garrison and patrol duty along the frontiers. Eighteen- and nineteen-year-old Athenian males had long been subject to military call-up and to various forms of public training and ceremony as initiation to the rights and responsibilities of citizenship.[4] Now, under the press of the Boiotian War, their two years of mandatory service were focused on the defense of the countryside, as we learn from the example of Aischines, who began his career in the 370s with two years of duty as an ephebe peripolos in the Attic countryside.[5]

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The generation that saw this regularization of mandatory military service beginning in the ephebic age-classes also saw the age-class emerge as the organizing principle of the call-up for military service in expeditionary forces, replacing the former system of enrollment of a force name by name from the katalogos of eligible hoplites.[6] It has been suggested that this development allowed for a more rapid deployment of a force, especially for territorial defense.[7] This could well have been one purpose of the change, but it might also be explained as a simple extension of the principle of service by age-class, exploiting the sense of solidarity and camaraderie instilled by the common experiences of ephebic service and fully democratizing military service by removing the opportunity for commanders to practice selective enrollment.

Democratization, applied ever more systematically in public affairs by the Athenians in the fourth century, often met with exceptions in the case of military organization, where the service of the most-qualified individuals was often required. Sometime in this same period, the commandersf loss of their ability to pick prime troops by selectively enrolling their forces was offset by the creation of an elite corps of soldiers, the epilektoi ("selected"). These first become known to us when they appear under the command of Phokion in 348, at the battle of Tamynai in Euboia, where they were responsible for reversing the fortunes of the day and bringing about an Athenian victory.[8] Little is known about the nature of this force except that men of property and distinction were proud to be numbered in its ranks and that it persisted as a unit into the third and second centuries.[9] The existence of such a force at Athens calls

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to mind the more famous, and ill-fated, Theban Sacred Band. The latter was a product of needs faced by the Thebans at the outset of the Boio-tian War, when the crack mercenary force led by Chabrias provided the same model of discipline and high morale for the Athenians. Here again, the Boiotian War established paradigms that were followed in succeeding generations.

No matter how the Athenians might have evaluated the material and manpower needs of the defense of Attica at any given time (and Xenophon Memorabilia 3.6.10-11 and Aristotle Rhetoric 1360a demonstrate that this evaluation was constantly

subject to change), the experiences of 378-375 and the precarious confrontation with the Thebans led by Epameinondas in the following decade made it clear that professional advice on the subject must always be available to the Athenian people. This soon became the specific responsibility of one of the ten annually elected generals. Chabrias and those of his colleagues who joined him in developing the successful defensive strategy of 378-375 had in effect defined the sphere of operations for the general "elected for the defense of the countryside," as the office was known in the late 350s, when the title is first attested.[10]

The office of

[Full Size]might well have been created as a result of the loss of Oropos to the Thebans in 366. Blame-laying in the aftermath of that coup resulted in the trials of Kallistratos and Chabrias, both on the charge of treason.[11] We learn from Aristotle (Rhetoric 1364a) that Kallistratos was accused as the advocate of a policy or a negotiation that had failed, and Chabrias was accused as the agent responsible for implementing that policy, that is, as the general in command of the full levy that had turned out in response to the coup. The fact that Chabrias, along with Kallistratos, was acquitted must in part be due to the fact that de jure responsibility for preventing such a loss of territory had not yet been specifically assigned to any one of the generals. Confronted with so serious a setback on their very borders, the Athenians probably soon saw to it that the prevention of further losses was the inescapable duty of one of the ten generals.

Phokion, a sober advisor in the midst of the heated debate following the loss of Oropos, might well have emerged as the first of the Athenian

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generals elected for the defense of the countryside.[12] Phokion certainly held that office in later years, and the tenor of much of his advice to the Athenians, as reported by Plutarch, is best comprehended when it is seen as coming from a man likely to be held accountable for the defense of Attic territory.[13] Indeed, Phokion's preeminent qualifications as an advisor on the subject of the defense of Attica probably account for his political prominence and, especially, for his remarkable record of election to the generalship:Though it was his policy always to favor peace and quiet, he held the generalship more often than any of his contemporaries and even any of his predecessors, and this despite the fact that he neither appealed for or even sought election—yet by the same token neither did he shirk or attempt to escape his city's call to duty. For it is generally agreed that he held the generalship forty-five times although he was never once present at the elections, but the people always summoned and elected him in his absence. Those who do not comprehend the situation find it incredible that the Athenian people should so treat Phokion, when it was he who most often opposed them, and when he never said or did anything to curry favor with them.[14]

Plutarch elsewhere points out that, in addition to an unparalleled record of military service, Phokion enjoyed a reputation for concise and effective rhetoric that made him the rival of Demosthenes in the Athenian assembly (plutarch Phokion 5.2-4, Demosthenes 10.2-3).

Being such an exception to the contemporary tendency toward exclusive specialization of orators and generals, Plutarch's picture of Phokion as both consummate general and dispassionate yet influential statesman has indeed defied

the comprehension of modern commentators. Gehrke and Bearzot have both remarked at the peculiarities of Phokion's military record, in particular, the contrast between his unrivaled tenure of

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the generalship and the comparatively few campaigns in which Phokion is known to have commanded. Gehrke, untroubled by Phokion's modest military record, has attributed Phokion's electoral successes to his tact and skill as an envoy of Athens and to the strength of his political associations with men like Chabrias, Kallistratos, and Euboulos.[15]Bearzot has emphasized the tendency, evident in Plutarch and other sources, to glorify Phokion as the lone figure in tumultuous times who, both in counsel and in action, always adhered to his sense of virtue and standards of judgment. She sees the biography of Phokion as the product of a movement reacting against the excesses of the democracy which Pho-kion served and by which he was eventually martyred. Finding no objective evidence to substantiate the large number of generalships Plutarch attributes to Phokion, she concludes that this distinction was a fabrication of the "hagiographic" tradition, designed to enhance the reputation of Phokion as the model of a moderate statesman.[16] Tritle, by contrast, finds nothing incredible about Plutarch's account of Phokion's long tenure of the generalship. Making the most of the available evidence, he seeks to justify the confidence vested in Phokion by the Athenians in terms of his real military abilities.[17] There is nothing atypical about Pho-kion's military career, Tritle concludes, "except for his numerous elections to the strategia. "[18] This exception elicits no further comment.

Phokion's record is atypical, and those who seek to understand his distinctive place in history and historiography must discover a convincing explanation for the exceptional aspects of his career. Unless we prefer to follow the radical solution proposed by Bearzot, we must go beyond Gehrke and Trifle in our examination of the available testimonia on generalship and politics in the age of Phokion. Looking to the institutions of territorial defense during Phokion's lifetime and, in particular, to the office of

[Full Size], we find a context that admirably accounts for many of the distinctive qualities and achievements attributed to Phokion.

His many, often concise, speeches to the assembly may be seen in large part as the programmatic duty of the general of the countryside, who would be required to report or comment on the subject of the defense of Attica on at least ten occasions each year, since the subject was a fixed item on the agenda of the

[Full Size].[19] A general who

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held this office for long would become known as a regular counselor of the people without relying on the sorts of appeals for popular backing that sustained the careers of other orators. Although the substance of most reports of the general of the countryside was probably noncontroversial, a speaker responsible for this subject would foreseeably acquire a reputation as a nagging conscience of the Athenian assembly, since it was his duty to remind them of unpleasant or unpopular necessities (the costs of upkeep for static defensive works, for example, and especially the costs of maintaining ephebes and other troops on garrison duty; see Xenophon Memorabilia 3.6.10-11 andPoroi 4.51-52; cf. Plutarch Pho-kion 23.2). Whenever the subject of war and its bearing on the defense of Attica became a lively issue before the assembly, the advice of the general of the countryside was bound to be consistently conservative, since he alone bore the ultimate responsibility for any setbacks, foreseeable or otherwise. These are precisely the distinctive characteristics of Phokion's public persona (so Plutarch Phokion 9.2-6, 16.2-3, 17.1, 22.3-4, 28-24, 26.3). Phokion's repeated and effortless elections to generalship are comprehensible when it is recognized that the command to which he was most often elected was, were it to become active, one that afforded the least opportunity for glory if successfully executed and entailed the greatest political and personal risks in the event of a setback.

Phokion's qualifications for command of the defense of Attica began with his service under Chabrias during the Boiotian War.[20] He knew from experience where the land provided defensive advantages, where lookouts and signalmen should be posted, and where fortifications were necessary. He also knew the limitations of these, the physical aspects of defensive planning. Having stood alongside Chabrias when the Athenians and Thebans had faced down the army of Agesilaos, Phokion knew well, as Plato also pointed out (Laws 778d-e, quoted in chapter 1), that a sufficient number of well-disciplined men were more essential to a successful defense than walls. Having witnessed the trials of the generals who had allowed Kleombrotos to enter Boiotia in 379/8, and later the trials of Chabrias and Kallistratos after the seizure of Oropos, Phokion also knew well the consequences of a misstep by the commander who advised the Athenians on the defense of Attica. These were cardinal lessons for Phokion and his colleagues in the generalship of the countryside, and they made the tenants of that office extremely circumspect about the prospects of war with the Athenians' powerful Boiotian neigh-

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bors, and as far as other affairs and especially financial conditions allowed, they encouraged the generals to cultivate discipline and devotion within the ranks of Athenian manpower, particularly through the institutions of the ephebia and the creation of the elite epilektoi .[21]

Discipline and devotion within an army not at war was most often exercised in the form of drill and ceremony, and such activities came to be regarded, in certain contexts, as emblematic of the cautious attitude toward active military engagements on the part of the commanders responsible for the defense of Attica. So we find taunts directed against "commanders elected more for display in the agora than for action in the field" (to paraphrase Demosthenes First Philippic 26) when a speaker was advocating the commitment of Athenian troops abroad. The privileged place that

affairs pertaining to the defense of Attica had on the agenda of the Athenian assembly by the middle of the fourth century eventually had the effect that all rhetoric on the subject of Athens at war, no matter how far abroad, made reference to the ultimate implications for the safety of the Athenian homeland (so, for example, Demosthenes First Olynthiac 15, 24-28, Third Olynthiac 8, Second Philippic 35, On the Crown 143, 300; Lykourgos Against Leokrates 47). As a result, rhetorical artifice came to have as much bearing as practical experience in discussions of the defense of Attica (so too with Phokion, according to Plutarch Phokion 16.2-3, 23.2; cf. 5.1-4). Ultimately and by extension of this logic, even the most seemingly unrelated topics were recommended to the attention of the Athenian assembly under the rubric "for the defense of the countryside."[22]

The.Boiotian War was the crucible out of which were forged the fourth-century Athenian standards for service in defense of Attica. Its effects can be traced in the writings of Xenophon and Plato, in the rhetoric of Demosthenes and Lykourgos, in the career of Phokion, and in the institutions of this latter generation of Athenians. Yet just as the circumstances of that war, the final confrontation between Athens and the land power of Sparta, were never to be repeated, so too the lessons learned and the expedients adopted then were never again applied in quite the same way. Professional handbooks, like the works of Aeneas Tacticus, disseminated piecemeal gems of practical advice for the edification of aspiring commanders. For the Athenians collectively, the chief lesson to emerge from this experience was that provided by Chabrias and his corps of professional soldiers: prudent generalship combined with steel-

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cool discipline could save the day against seemingly hopeless odds. That combination, and certain favors that nature had bestowed on the topography of Attica, had kept Attic territory virtually inviolate after Sphod-rias' irruption. In the course of the following decades, the Athenians sought to retain the qualities embodied by Chabrias and his men by insti-tutionalizing them in the generalship of the countryside, in the training of the ephebes, and in the esprit de corps of the elite epilektoi . The ultimate effects of these institutions might not always have been quite what was intended or foreseen at their inception, but they played an influential part in public affairs thereafter and deserve credit for succeeding to the extent that Attic soil was never trodden by an enemy army until, in the last act of the Lamian War, Phokion beat off the Macedonian commander Mikion shortly before the Athenians acquiesced to the greater power of Macedon.

APPENDICES

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Appendix IThe Dema Wall Saltcellar

During the excavation of the Dema house, a nearly complete black-glazed saltcellar was discovered "built into the rubble fill of the Dema wall" ("Dema House," 100, no. 99). Through the kindness of Professor J. E. Jones and Dr. B. Petrakos, Ephor of Antiquities of Attica, in 1978 I was able to examine this saltcellar, which was being stored with the finds from the Dema house in the Areos Street apotheke of the Greek Archaeological Service in Athens. Professor Jones also described how the piece was spotted by Mr. Sackett as he was sitting atop the wall: it was wedged between stones of the fill of the wall and had to be pried out with some difficulty. The wall-section from which the saltcellar came, between the railroad and sally port 11, had been reduced in height, evidently by stone-robbing (see DEMA 161). As a consequence, the original fill of the wall was more exposed here than is usually the case. Originally, the saltcellar was buried well within the fill of the wall. The piece is therefore securely associated with the construction of the wall, and its date provides a terminus post quem for the construction.

Concave-walled saltcellar Figure 43Dema House no. 99. Single fragment approximately three-quarters complete. H. 0.027 m, D. of rim 0.059 m, D. of foot 0.062 m. Flaring ring foot, underside of foot rounded. Underside of bowl convex. Outside of foot continuous with curve of concave wall; curve of wall nearly symmetrical, extending slightly further below. Point of minimum diameter at midpoint of wall. Rim rounded. Floor of bowl rises in a continuous curve, inward turning at junction with rim. Good black glaze on all surfaces. Attic.

Published as catalog no. 99 in "Dema House," 100 (note that the diameter given there as 0.081 is an error for 0.061) and p. 101, with figure 7, p. 92, and plate 29.

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The date of this piece given in the publication of the Dema house is mid fourth century on the basis of comparanda from the Athenian Agora, and it is therefore regarded as substantive confirmation of the 337-336 B.C. date for the Dema wall given in DEMA 186-89. There are a number of such saltcellars from dated deposits in the Agora, and they range in date from the late fifth century to the beginning of the third century. A series of examples arranged according to their deposit dates reveals a corresponding shape development according to which a date may be given to the Dema wall saltcellar. Such a comparison shows that the Dema wall saltcellar cannot be as late as the middle of the fourth century, and a date for the wall a good deal earlier in the fourth century than that proposed by Jones, Sackett, and Eliot is entirely possible on the basis of this, the only closely datable artifact which has a direct bearing on the construction date of the Dema wall.

Within the series of Attic concave-walled saltcellars of this type, there are a number of variable features, such as details in the profiles of the resting surfaces and rims and variable height/diameter ratios, which seem to have no chronological significance. The one feature that does change in a consistent manner over time is the profile of their concave walls. Examples early in the series have symmetrically curving walls, with the point of minimum diameter no higher than midway up the

wall. By the second quarter of the fourth century, the curve of the wall becomes noticeably sharper toward the top, and the point of minimum diameter has correspondingly moved to about two-thirds of the way up the wall. These traits continue to develop into the third quarter of the fourth century, with the difference between the shallow curve of the lower two-thirds of the wall and the sharp curve of the upper third becoming more pronounced and producing a rim that overhangs the wall more noticeably than do examples from the first half of the century (cf. the description in Agora XII, 137).

This shape development can be observed in the series of saltcellars from the Athenian Agora illustrated in figure 43. The pieces are arranged according to deposit dates, from left to right beginning with the middle row:P17422, published by Young, Hesperia 20 (1951): 195 and note 178, with plate 66c, as part of a group of sherds which "probably belonged to [a] table service . . . in the late fifth and early fourth centuries." Cited by Sparkes and Talcott as a parallel to no. 935, dated 425-400 B.C. From deposit A 20:6b, dated ca. 425-400 B.C., see Agora XII, 383.

Uninventoried, unpublished. From deposit Q 15:2, dated ca. 420-400 B.C.; see Agora XII, 397-98; Thompson, Hesperia 24 (1955):69-70; Crosby, Hesperia 24 (1955): 76-84.

― 201 ―P16951, unpublished. From deposit A-B 21-22:1, dated ca. 420-390 B.C.; see Thompson, Hesperia 16 (1947):210-11, and Agora XII, 384.

P27336, unpublished. From deposit I 13:2, published by Shear, Hesperia 39 (1970):212-19, with notes 101, 104. The deposit is part of a fill, probably a household dump, consisting of pottery which was "made and accumulated during the later years of the fifth century B.C. and the early years of the fourth, with a few pieces going as far back as the mid fifth century, and a few, more significantly, dating as late as ca . 370 B.C. " (Shear 219). Cf. Agora XII, 393, where the deposit is dated to the early fourth century.

P20, published as Agora XII, no. 936, dated 375-350 B.C. From deposit H 6:1, dated ca. 375-350 B.C.; see Agora XII, 392.

P12397, published by Thompson, Hesperia Supplement IV, 133, with figure 98d, as part of deposit G 12:23, dated to the second quarter of the fourth century, pp. 132-34. See also Agora IV, 239, and Agora XII, 391, for deposit G 12:23. This piece is cited in Agora XII as a parallel to no. 936, dated 375-350 B.C.

P12821, published as Agora XII, no. 937, dated 350-325 B.C. From deposit O 18:2, dated ca. 350-320 B.C.; see Agora XII, 396; Agora IV, 243; Thompson, Hesperia 23 (1954): 72-87.

The parallel for the Dema wall saltcellar cited in the Dema house publication is P12397 above, which has its point of minimum diameter well above the midpoint of the wall, with a sharper curve above this point than below. As can be seen in figure 43, the Dema saltcellar has closer affinities with the saltcellars in the upper row of the Agora group, where the saltcellars have symmetrically curving walls with their minimum diameters at the midpoint. In particular, the Dema saltcellar closely resembles P27336, both in dimensions (P27336: H. 0.03 m, D. of rim 0.062 m, D. of foot 0.065 m) and in profile, with its nearly symmetrical curve, extended slightly further below, and with the point of minimum diameter in the center of the wall.

On the basis of this comparison, the Dema wall saltcellar can be dated no later than the early fourth century. More precisely, it might have been in use any time from the last quarter of the fifth century through the first quarter of the fourth. As a terminus post quem for the date of the Dema wall, this piece indicates that the wall was built no earlier than the last quarter of the fifth century at the very earliest, and most likely after the beginning of the fourth century.

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Appendix IIFighting in the Aigaleos-Parnes Gap in 1826-27

Standing more or less intact for almost two and a half millennia, the Dema wall has inevitably impressed itself as strongly as any major natural feature on the minds of those who have lived near it, especially upon the herdsmen who have driven their flocks through its gates and sally ports time and time again through the ages. It is therefore no surprise that, when war has come to the Aigaleos-Parnes gap and when those herdsmen have been involved in the fighting, the Dema wall should again emerge as a strategic feature. Such fighting occurred during the Greek War of Independence, and events of the years 1826-27 certainly drew attention to the Dema wall. A review of these events is pertinent here not only as a postscript to the history of this monument but, more important, as a way of explaining the peculiar northern extension of the Dema wall, a feature that has mistakenly been regarded as part of its original construction and that has consequently misled scholars seeking to explain its original purpose (see further in chapter 2).

Following the fall of Mesolongi to the Turks in the spring of 1826, Turkish forces under Reshid Pasha advanced through Boiotia against Greek forces at Athens and there began a siege that lasted from the summer of 1826 until the capitulation of the Greeks on the Acropolis in the spring of 1827. This eventual outcome resulted not from the successes of the besieger in its assaults against the besieged but from the failures of the Greek forces outside Athens in their attempts to drive off the Turks. The decisive battles of this campaign were fought around the plain of Athens. (This summary of events is based on the published accounts of Gordon 1832, 330-402; Finlay 1877, 401-33; Makriyannis 1947, 300-302; and Howe 1828, 394-97, who were eyewitnesses to many of the events around Athens and Peiraieus in 1826-27; reference has also been made to Dakin 1973, 184-217.)

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Using Salamis as a staging point, the Greek forces launched various attacks on the Turks, either overland by way of Eleusis or by direct landings on the coasts of Peiraieus and Phaleron. The first of these attacks was intended to dislodge Reshid before the siege of the Acropolis could be closely pressed. On August 17, 1826, 3,500 regular and irregular troops under Colonel Fabvier and Georgios Karaïskakis advanced from Eleusis through the Daphni pass and took up a position at Khaidari on the west edge of the plain of Athens. Here Reshid met them with a strong force, and the two sides assailed each other's positions in turn. On the night of August 19, a Greek attack was turned back sharply, setting off a general panic and a rout of Greek forces. This setback dissuaded the Greeks from attempting direct attacks on Reshid until stronger forces could be mustered.

The next substantial movement against the Turks therefore involved a more subtle stratagem designed to disrupt Turkish supply lines while reinforcing the garrison of the Acropolis. On October 21, two forces set out from Eleusis, one under Fabvier moving northwest to cross Kithai-ron and attack the Turkish stronghold at Thebes, and one under Ka-raïskakis moving eastward again toward Khaidari.

Karaïskakis' movement was a feint, intended to divert the Turks from attacking Fabvier's column and also to mask the movement of a third force of 450 men, which landed at Phaleron on the night of October 23 and succeeded in crossing Turkish lines to enter the Acropolis. Fabvier was less fortunate, for the irregulars he had assigned to guard his way back through Ki-thairon left their posts, and he was forced to retreat before his attack on Thebes could develop.

The successful reinforcement of the Acropolis on this and other occasions bought time for the Greeks, but decisive action was still needed if the fortress was not to fall, sooner or later. Over the winter of 1826-27, Karaïskakis was active throughout central Greece, from Boiotia to Aitolia, against Turkish posts and supply lines. His successes, and the unchallenged strength of Greek naval forces, led some to favor a vigorous and concerted land and naval campaign against Reshid's lines of supply as the most effective way to lift the siege of Athens; for Reshid's army depended on supplies conveyed from Thessaly in the north, both overland via Thebes and by sea via Negropont/Chalkis and Oropos. If these lines were ever interrupted for any length of time, his army would be compelled to withdraw. Others favored the renewal of frontal assaults against the Turks around Athens as the quickest way of raising the siege, and since those in highest authority were of this mind, plans were made accordingly.

The favored plan called for the landing of a force on the heights of Peiraieus overlooking the bay of Phaleron, where a strong position could be fortified to distract and divide the Turks and from which a drive to

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Map 6.Battlegrounds in the siege of Athens, 1826-27

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the Acropolis could in due course be launched. To insure the safety of the initial landing, a diversionary force was to set out first from Eleusis, to march on Menidi north of Athens via the Aigaleos-Parnes gap. The landing at Peiraieus, on February 5, 1827, came off successfully, and the diversion had the desired effect of preventing the Turks from concentrating an immediate counterattack against the landing. The

diversion-ary force itself, however, met with disaster in a battle on February 8 at Kamatero, on the northeasternmost foot of Mount Aigaleos.

On February 3, the force from Eleusis, something under 3,500 men commanded by Colonel Dionisios Bourbakis, Vasos Mavrovouniotis, and Panayotis Notaras, advanced to the village of Menidi where they attacked a Turkish unit on guard in the area. The Turks took refuge in a fortified church, and before Turkish cavalry could arrive, the Greeks withdrew into Mount Parnes toward the village of Khasia. Here the commanders became divided in their opinions about how to proceed. Bour-bakis, a regular army officer, was keen to advance toward Athens and challenge the Turks in the plain. Mavrovouniotis and Notaras, experienced leaders of Greek irregulars, favored remaining in the mountains and harassing Turkish supply lines. Bourbakis persuaded his colleagues to advance at least to the nearer slopes of Aigaleos, perhaps arguing that their diversionary threat against Athens must be made to appear more credible.

On February 6, the Greeks advanced across the gap between Parnes and Aigaleos and took up positions along the crest and slopes of Aiga-leos above the village of Kamatero. Here Bourbakis, eager for the battle that his colleagues sought to avoid, drew his own men out into the plain a little distance, where they threw up fieldworks to prepare for the anticipated attack. Bourbakis had indeed attracted the attention of Reshid, who began an attack on February 8 with a force of 2,000 foot and 600 cavalry supported by artillery. While Bourbakis' men were held in place by the Turkish artillery, the Turkish foot rushed against the Greeks who remained on Aigaleos. These, with their commanders, had no desire to be drawn into a general engagement, and they took flight, leaving Bourbakis unsupported. Reshid's cavalry finished the job with a charge that broke Bourbakis' position, and in the ensuing rout some 400 Greeks, including Bourbakis, were killed or captured. The Greek force was so completely dispersed that the Turks even succeeded in taking Eleusis. They withdrew from Eleusis after destroying the fieldworks of the Greek camp and filling the wells with rubble.

The remaining campaign against Reshid was distinguished only by the return of Karaïskakis a month after the battle of Kamatero and by the eventual ill-fated attack mounted by Greek forces from the coast two months later. On March 14, Karaïskakis advanced from Eleusis along

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the coast and entrenched himself at Keratsini near Peiraieus. This development marked the expansion of the desultory war of positions in which the Greeks and Turks around Peiraieus had been engaged. Receiving further reinforcements toward the end of April, the commanders of the Greek forces were encouraged to attempt a drive on Athens. Poorly coordinated and executed (ill conceived from the very first, according to some), this attack badly misfired and resulted in another more serious rout for Greek forces on May 6. By May 27, the troops who still held the positions at Peiraieus withdrew, and messages sent to the Acropolis advised the Greeks there to negotiate a capitulation. This was done, and the Acropolis was turned over to the forces of Reshid Pasha on June 5.

The movements of February 3-8, culminating in the battle of Ka-matero, are the only events of this campaign that are known to have taken place in the Aigaleos-Parnes gap. There is no hint in any of our sources that the Dema wall was in any way

involved in this sequence of events, nor is there any real reason to suppose that it might have been. Other fieldworks in the area, however, most likely were involved. The Kamatero wall in particular, a long and slight rubble fieldwork on the side of Aigaleos above Kamatero facing Athens (see map 6), must surely be one of the tambouria of the men of Mavrovouniotis and Notaras. (The Kamatero wall is noted on the Karten von Attikasheet vi, Pyrgos, 1883, and is described by Milchhoefer 1883, 44, and McCredie 1966, 71-72; it closely resembles the construction of the northern sector of the Dema wall.) A series of small circular rubble enclosures along Aigaleos to the south of Kamatero, on the brow of the ridge facing Athens, is likely to have been a line of outlying tambouria , the watchposts of the Greek forces noted by Howe when he wrote in his journal that "the fires of the Greeks under Vashos [Mavrovouniotis] and Bourbakis upon the sides of the mountains" were conspicuous from Peiraieus on the nights of February 6 and 7 (Richards 1906, 205; these remains are noted by Milch-hoefer 1883, 44, and DEMA , 175; see also the descriptions by Smith and Lowry 1954, 39-40, and Munn 1979b, 21-22; it is likely that a rubble wall adjacent to the Aigaleos tower is also a work of this episode).

If the Dema had no role in the events of February 3-8, the concentration of action around the plain of Athens over the whole course of the campaign of 1826-27, and especially the fact that Eleusis and Athens were the bases of opposing forces, with those at Eleusis seeking to attack and harass those around Athens, makes it most unlikely that the Dema wall would have been completely ignored. The Dema provided an excellent defensive position for the Turkish forces around Athens and Peiraieus, guarding against an attack to their rear. Furthermore, it served to fortify a vulnerable point along a supply route of considerable

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importance to the Turks, the route from Thebes across the Skourta plain, through Khasia and Menidi to Athens. This route certainly was used, for we are told that soon after his embarrassing defeat at Khaidari, Karaïskakis repaired his reputation by raiding Skourta and carrying away 10,000 head of cattle which had been assembled there for the supply of the Turks at Athens (Gordon 1832, 339).

This sort of raid was probably just what Mavrovouniotis and Notaras had in mind when they argued with Bourbakis before their advance to Kamatero, and it is clear from our sources that such attacks against Turkish supply routes were contemplated more often than they were executed. Gordon, who was the commanding general of the Greeks at the time of the landing at Peiraieus, speaks of his preference for concentrating on disrupting the communications of Reshid's army (1832, 378, 383, 385, 399). Finlay, who was also present during this campaign, describes more explicitly a plan which was contemplated at the time:The besiegers of Athens might also have been closely blockaded by a line of posts, extending from Megara to Eleutherae, Phyle, Deceleia, and Rhamnus. This plan was rejected, and a number of desultory operations were undertaken (Finlay 1877, 413).

If the Greeks were contemplating such moves and, in the cases of the raid on Skourta and the march to Kamatero, actually carrying out operations in strength in the vicinity of the Aigaleos-Parnes gap, the Turks must have been prepared to oppose them. The fact that there was a Turkish outpost at Menidi on February 3 shows that the Turks already recognized the importance of this route and the need to prevent a Greek force from operating in this area and cutting off the direct route

to Thebes. The Greeks could have done this if they had established a strong camp in the vicinity of Khasia, within the foothills of Parnes where Turkish cavalry could not move and artillery could be transported only with great difficulty. Indeed, this seems to have been the intent of Mavrovouniotis and Notaras on February 3, and Makriyannis, who participated in the planning of this operation, states that Khasia was the original objective of this force (1947, 301,302).

The northern extension of the Dema wall is suited not so much to dosing the Aigaleos-Parnes gap, which the Wall already does, as to preventing a flanking movement around the wall to the north. This is precisely the direction of Khasia. The northern sector should be understood as a way to extend the line of the Dema up to the crest of the ridge that separates Khasia from the plain of Eleusis. The ridge itself completes the defenses of Khasia.

Would the Turks have undertaken such a project to defend an outlying village like Khasia? One might also ask, Would the Turks build

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such a wall at al, a wall that is more appropriate to the tactics of Greek irregulars than of the Turkish army? The answer to both of these questions lies in the fact that the Turkish army was itself supported by substantial numbers of Greek, or in this case Albanian, irregulars, whose manner of fighting was precisely the same as that of the troops of Ka-raïskakis, Mavrovouniotis, and Notaras. Moreover, the Albanian villagers of Khasia and Menidi were active supporters of Reshid, as Finlay makes clear in his description of the advent of Turkish forces in June of 1826:A great proportion of the Attic peasantry was driven to despair [by the rapacity of the Greek garrison commanders in Athens], and the moment Reshid's forces appeared in the Katadema, or hilly district between Parnes and the channel of Euboea, they were welcomed as deliverers. On advancing into the plain of Athens, they were openly joined by the warlike inhabitants of Menidhi and Khasia, who vigorously supported Reshid's government as long as he remained in Attica (Finlay 1877, 401).

The northern sector of the Dema wall, therefore, is most likely the work of these villagers, who, on their own initiative or under Turkish command, sought to strengthen their defenses against an attack like that of the forces of Mavrovouniotis, Notaras, and Bourbakis. The most probable time for its construction is after the battle of Kamatero, which marked the beginning of the campaign of 1827 for the Greeks, who had been relatively inactive since the beginning of the previous November, when Karaïskakis had left Eleusis for the interior. The Khasiotes and Menidiotes need not have seen a major threat developing to impel them to this work (although the return of Karaïskakis to Eleusis in March might well have provided them with the energy to undertake it), since it is quite possible that they had to be continuously on their guard against small raiding parties from the direction of Eleusis, who would prey on their flocks as if they were supplies for the enemy, which in fact they were.

One other fieldwork in this area deserves notice as a construction probably belonging to this campaign of the War of Independence. This is the long spur wall attached to the Thriasian Lager, an ancient fortified camp on a ridge some three kilometers southwest of the Dema wall (McCredie 1966, 66-71). As McGredie notes, the camp is best understood as the base of an army opposing a force at the Dema wall, and it seems to have been reused, with the addition of the spur wall, for this purpose in the age of firearms. Unlike the massive rubble enclosure wall of the camp

itself, the spur wall, which runs from the camp on a summit down into the valley to the east, is a slight construction closely resembling both the

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northern sector of the Dema wall and the Kamatero wall. This wall might mark a stage in the advance of the forces of Bourbakis, Mavro-vouniotis, and Notaras; it might have been built earlier and used as a place of ambush in a rout of the Turkish cavalry which took place somewhere in the plain of Eleusis in the course of the Turks' advance on Athens from the north (Gordon 1832, 331); or it might have been built at any time during the campaign as an outwork of a minor post established at the Lager to watch for possible movements of Turkish forces through the Aigaleos-Parnes gap, either against Eleusis or against the rear of the forces twice led by Karaïskakis through the Daphni pass to Khaidari.

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Appendix IIIChabrias and His Mercenaries, 379/8

The Recall of ChabriasThe date of Chabrias' recall from Egypt may be narrowed to within less than a year by the testimony of our sources. Nepos 12.2.1 states that Chabrias secured the throne of Egypt for Nektanebis. Kienitz 1953, 174, has shown that this must refer to Nektanebis I, the eventual successor to Hakoris and founder of the thirtieth dynasty. Manetho's chronology places the first year of Nektanebis I in 379/8 (Kienitz 1953, 169); inscriptions from lower and upper Egypt attest that Nektanebis established his sway over the land by November of his first year (Kienitz 1953, 174 and note 7). If Manetho's date for the first year of Nektanebis I is correct, his rule was established in the latter half of 379, after which Chabrias left Egypt. Xenophon Hell. 5.4.14 proves that Chabrias was in Athens before the middle of winter 379/8. We may therefore place Chabrias' departure from Egypt within the second half of 379.

The chronology of the thirtieth dynasty, however, is far from secure, and one of the contested variables is the relationship of Chabrias to its founder. Kienitz (1953, 174), relying in part on the assumption that Chabrias was an elected general in the winter of 379/18 and therefore must have been in Athens by the spring of 379, placed the beginning of Nektanebis' reign, and Chabrias' departure, in 380. Cloché (1919, 230-32), accepting the same deduction about Chabrias' date of departure, preferred, on other evidence, to maintain the Manethonian date for Nektanebis' accession in 379, and in the process argued that Nepos' evidence (admittedly badly confused in other respects) for the association of Chabrias with Nektanebis I should be disregarded.

The problem is simplified if we dismiss not the explicit testimony of our sources but the modern assumption that Chabrias was an elected

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general by the winter of 379/8. There is in fact compelling evidence to do so, quite apart from the question of the date of Chabrias' return from Egypt (see below). Having done so, and accepting the Manethonian chronology, as supported by Cloché, for Nektanebis' accession in 379, we may place the recall of Chabrias to Athens in the second half of 379. Again, quite apart from questions of Egyptian chronology, there are excellent circumstantial reasons for maintaining this date.

Diodoros 15.29.4 and Nepos 12.3.1 have both described Chabrias' recall as a response to Persian pressure to remove that commander from the service of Egypt. In chapter 5, the case is made at length that Chab-rias' recall was more immediately occasioned by a special need for his services at Athens and that Persian pressure was decidedly a secondary consideration. Nepos adds the detail that Chabrias was ordered to appear in Athens before a specified date on pain of death. In light of the interpretation advanced here, this should be taken as an indication of special urgency on the part of the Athenians.

Nepos 12.3, in another respect, presents a decidedly distorted and unflattering picture of Chabrias and his fellow Athenian mercenary commanders that derives from Theopompos (FGrHist 115 F 105). According to Theopompos, Chabrias and his ilk preferred a life of self-indulgence abroad to enforced self-restraint while under the public eye at Athens. Therefore, we may infer from Theopompos' way of thinking, in order for a recall to Athens to be effective, it had to have a powerful incentive attached to it. If we remove the tendentious embellishments of Theopompos from what is essentially an account of an urgent and specifically dated recall, then the most plausible scenario becomes a recall sometime in the fall of 379, when the plot to overthrow the Spartan garrison at Thebes was already afoot within certain circles at Athens, but when, because of the lateness of the season, Chabrias might otherwise have preferred to wait until the following spring to sail.

It would in any event have been undesirable, because of both the expenses involved and the difficulty of providing a public explanation for the small mercenary army idling in the gymnasia of Athens (or, more likely, quickly moved into the frontier forts of Attica), to have had Cha-brias and his men in Athens much earlier. The Persian demand for his recall was a slender enough pretext as it was.

Chabrias' Election As GeneralChabrias' status as a mercenary commander at Thebes in the early summer of 378 is nambiguous in Diodoros 15.32.5:

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[Full Size]

. I have argued elsewhere (Munn 1987, 118 note 39) that Chabrias was also the principal commander of Athe-

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nian citizen soldiers on this occasion. I still believe that this judgment is essentially correct, but the situation, confusing to say the least, requires clarification.

The explanation is straightforward. The Theban campaign took place early in the summer of 378, before the end of the archonship of Nikon (379/8). The election of Chabrias to the generalship, recorded by Dio-doros 15.29.7, took place earlier in the archonship of Nikon, but Cha-brias' office formally began only with the archonship of Nausinikos (378/7) (see Rhodes 1981, 537, commenting on AthPol . 44.4, on the time of election and tenure of office of Athenian

[Full Size]). Although he did not yet have the legal authority of a

[Full Size]as general-elect Chabrias could nevertheless exercise considerable influence, especially under the circumstances of early summer 378 discussed in chapter 5. But officially, he was still only

[Full Size], while Demeas (schol. Aristides Panath . 296, Dindorf 3.281; see chapter 5 note 41) was

[Full Size]

[Full Size], in much the same way that Iphikrates and Kallias cooperated at Corinth in 390 (Xenophon Hell . 4.5.13) and as Chabrias and Demainetos cooperated on Aigina in 388 (Xenophon Hell . 5.1.10).

Chabrias' PeltastsCorollary to this explanation of Chabrias' status in 378 and to the date of his recall as established above, is the observation that when he led at Eleutherai the preceding winter (Xenophon Hell. 5.4.14), he was a commander of mercenaries, not of Athenian citizen troops. It has been popular to suppose otherwise, namely, that he had already been elected

[Full Size](Krause 1914, 16; Cloché 1919, 230; Beloch 1923, 229-30; Parke 1933, 62) and that the

[Full Size]

[Full Size]he commanded were mostly, if not exclusively, Athenians (Parke 1933, 76, accepted by Pritchett 1974, 104-5, and Ober 1985a, 94 and note 22). Reasons for rejecting the assumption that Chabrias was already an elected general have just been given. Best (1969, 93-96) has already argued against Parke, on other grounds, that Chabrias' peltasts were more likely foreign mercenaries than Athenian recruits or, as Parke suggests, volunteers.

To all of these arguments we may add the observation that Chabrias, on this occasion, was clearly among the Athenians who were supporting the Theban uprising and offering resistance to Spartan forces, both those in the Kadmeia and those led by Kleombrotos. Xenophon (Hell . 5.4.9 and 19) specifies that two (unnamed) Athenian

[Full Size]led the Athenians in their support of the Thebans and were later held accountable, and condemned, for their actions. That Chabrias did not share their fate implies that he did not share their authority at this moment.

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In other words, he was not yet an elected

[Full Size]and he did not have the authority to lead either an Athenian citizen levy or a force of Athenian volunteers (however they might have been constituted) such as the generals are supposed to have led.

If Chabrias did not have the authority to lead citizen forces raised for this occasion, then his troops must have been, as Best argues, mercenaries. Athenians (like Chabrias himself) could and did serve as mercenaries and were certainly included in Chabrias' corps at this time (candidates include Nikias, an in-law of Aischines, named by Demosthenes 19.287; Nikostratos and Chariades of Isaios 4.7, 18, 26, 29; Astyphilos of Araphen of Isaios 9.14—all probably officers). It is highly likely, moreover, that some or all of the

[Full Size]taken by Chabrias along with his peltasts to Cyprus in 388 (Xenophon Hell . 5.1.10) remained in his service—as mercenaries—in Egypt and returned with him now to Athens.

Chabrias' peltasts are another matter, however. There is some likelihood that many of the eight hundred peltasts taken by Chabrias from Corinth to Cyprus in 388 returned with him from Egypt in 379. These were foreign troops, the

[Full Size]of Aristophanes Wealth 173. Parke (1933, 56), followed by Best (1969, 92), points to Chabrias' prior service in Hellespontine Thrace as the likely origin of both his qualifications as a commander of peltasts and of the peltasts themselves (cf. Parke 1933, 51). On the other hand, not all Athenian peltasts were recruited overseas. Lysias 19.21 describes preparations at Athens for the ill-fated mission to Euagoras that preceded that of Chabrias (cf. Xenophon Hell . 4.8.24), which included the hiring and arming of a peltast force. In all likelihood, these men were hired on the spot in Peiraieus, where a mixed crowd of foreigners and Athenians was ready to serve for hire as sailors or as soldiers (cf. Xenophon Hell . 1.2.1, 2.4.25, 4.8.34; Demosthenes 50.7, 10-16).

Diodoros 15.29.1 states that the mercenaries led by Chabrias in Egypt included "many Greeks." Out of this mixed lot there must have been a fair number of Athenians, both hoplites and peltasts, who would have been strongly motivated to return home, in paid service, with their commander. Ignorant of their total number, we are likewise ignorant of the proportion of these mercenaries that was Athenian.

But, for present purposes, this issue really does not matter. They were seasoned mercenaries, not a citizen levy. That Xenophon describes the peltasts led by Chabrias in 379/8 as

[Full Size]is surely an acceptable description of "peltasts hired by the Athenians," just as

[Full Size]

[Full Size]means "the cavalry commanded by the Lakedaimonians," (Xenophon Hell . 6.4.13), which Xenophon acknowledges was made up mostly of allies and men hired for service (Hell . 6.4.9-11, Hipparch . 9.4).

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The Size of Chabrias' Mercenary ForceAlthough we do not know the number of men brought to Athens by Chabrias, we are not without the means to make some rather rough estimates. The approximate size of the mercenary hoplite force led by Chabrias in 378 is the most accessible figure.

Mention has been made above of the hoplite force, of unspecified size, taken from Athens by Chabrias into mercenary service in 388. There is an a priori likelihood, therefore, that Chabrias had some number of mercenary hoplites with him when he returned. Diodoros' description of Chabrias as a mercenary commander at Thebes in 378, leading well-drilled hoplites, proves this supposition (15.32.5-6, 33.4, discussed in chapter 5, 158-60). The discussion of Chabrias and the campaign of 378 in chapter 5 shows that Chabrias' hoplites formed at least the first rank of the Athenian force arrayed against Agesilaos. The number of Chabrias' mercenary hoplites may be estimated on the basis of the number likely to have composed the first rank of the Athenian force.

That army consisted of 5,000

[Full Size](Diodoros 15.32.2). Given Diodoros' specification elsewhere of

[Full Size](e.g., 15.26.2), perhaps not all of these infantrymen were hoplites. If as many as a thousand of them were peltasts, and if, as seems most likely, the remaining hoplites were arrayed eight deep, each rank would be composed of 500 hoplites. The number per rank might have been reduced to a minimum of 250 if the depth of the files were increased up to a maximum of sixteen (a most unlikely extreme, in view of the enormous size of the Peloponnesian army; see also the figures on depth of phalanx collected and discussed by Pritchett 1971, 134-43), or the number per rank might have been increased up to 625 if a greater proportion, or even the whole, of the expeditionary force of 5,000 were composed of hoplites. In fact, it seems most likely that the 5,000 infantrymen referred to here by Diodoros were all Athenian hoplites

[Full Size](such a figure would most easily be derived from the roster of 10,000—or, optimistically, 20,000?—Athenian hoplites drawn up that spring; see appendix VI). In that case, Chabrias' hoplite and peltast mercenaries would have been an addition to the numbers reported by Diodoros. In any event, it seems safe to assume that the Athenians would have deployed all of their hoplite mercenaries to the scene of action in 378. We may estimate that their number lay between 250 and 625, with the range of 500-625 representing a much more probable estimate than anything below 500.

As to peltasts, Xenophon Hell. 5.1.10 reports that Chabrias, upon his departure for Cyprus in 388, had with him a force of 800 peltasts in addition to his hoplite mercenaries. This number need have no direct

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bearing on the number of peltasts who returned with Chabrias, but it does fit within a range of sizes of expeditionary peltast forces that may be taken to suggest the probable limits to the size of Chabrias' force in 379. The 1,200-1,300 peltasts of

Iphikrates and Dieitrephes mark an upper limit to such forces (Xenophon Hell . 4.8.34; Thucydides 7.27.1, 29). The 800 of Chabrias and the 600 of Ktesikles (Xenophon Hell . 6.2.10) mark a midrange, close to which (between 500 and 800) fall several peltast contingents (associated with hoplite contingents of various sizes) brought to Cyrus on the eve of his expedition against Artaxerxes (Xenophon Anab . 1.2.3-9), while a contingent of 300 peltasts (with an equal number of hoplites) marks a low figure (Anab . 1.2.3).

The forces of Iphikrates and Dieitrephes were composed only of peltasts and are perhaps unusually large. We should be safe, therefore, in lowering the upper limit of probability for Chabrias' peltast force in 379 to 1,000. The lower limit of 300 peltasts seems reasonable, for it is hard to believe that any smaller force would be adequate for manning and patrolling passes and ridges over a fairly wide front in Kithairon.

According to these deductions and comparisons, a probable absolute minimum for Chabrias' original mercenary force is 550 (300 peltasts and 250 hoplites); around a thousand seems a good deal more probable, and a total of 1,600 (1,000 peltasts and 600 hoplites) is well within the range of possibility. An even larger force, which would allow more men to be assigned to garrisons and patrols, is by no means out of the question. As an initial mercenary corps, then, Chabrias probably brought between 550 and 1,600 men (over 1,000 being distinctly more likely than under 1,000) with him from Egypt to Athens in the autumn of 379.

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Appendix IVXenophon and Diodoros on the Surrender of the Kadmeia

One point in the narrative of the events of 378-375 on which Xenophon seems to contradict Diodoros outright is the length of time the garrison held out on the Kadmeia.Hellenika 5.4.10-11 suggests , but nowhere states, that the surrender took place the day after the uprising began. Diodoros 15.27.1, on the other hand, describes a process whereby the defenders were resolute, as long as they had supplies, but as they began to run out, and as the expected relieving force from the Peloponnese was long in coming, they lost courage and surrendered. Deinarchos 1.39 says that these events transpired over "a few days" (

[Full Size]), and Plutarch Pel . 13.1-2 emphasizes that the surrender took place just before the arrival of Kleombrotos with the army from the Peloponnese, which could hardly have happened less than ten days from the beginning of the uprising, and more likely was somewhat more.

This issue is inextricably bound with the other discrepancies between Xenophon and the tradition represented by Diodoros concerning the events of 379/8, and here, as elsewhere, the weight of the evidence supporting Diodoros must be acknowledged

(see chapter 5, pp. 134, 137). Xenophon's authority in the present instance is no greater because he was a mature contemporary of these events, nor because he "is more trustworthy on military operations," as Kallet-Marx (1985, 141 and note 57) has asserted in reference to Xenophon's account of the surrender of the Kadmeia.

The issue here, in the first place, does not concern strictly military operations. Expertise in this field (which Xenophon surely had) had no bearing on the issues involved in the accounts of the surrender of the Kadmeia. On the contrary, the surrender itself was a diplomatic, not a military, event, and it involved many participants on both sides. In fact, those on the Spartan, or Peloponnesian side, both were fewer in number

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and had a more impelling motive (the deflection of blame) to distort events than those on the Theban and Athenian side.

Neither Xenophon's military expertise, therefore, nor his contemporaneity requires us to believe that he provided a more reliable account or that he had access to more reliable sources than Diodoros did. At Skillous in the Peloponnese, Xenophon would have learned of these events secondhand, at best, which makes him no more credible than Deinarchos or Ephoros, who wrote of events that occurred in their fathers' generation. For, even on Xenophon's own account, a sizable number of Athenians must have participated in the events at Thebes, and even more must have joined in the political and legal debates that followed. Moreover, the generation of Ephoros and Deinarchos was not the first to commit these events to written record. Isokrates, just over five years later, in the Plataikos , gave explicit support to the version of events as described by Deinarchos and (through Ephoros) Diodoros (see appendix v). Among other historians who preceded Ephoros in their accounts of this period was Androtion, who was politically active at Athens during this period, and whose Atthis covered the events of this era in great detail (see Munn 1987, 110-11 and note 20). There is considerable weight, therefore, behind the consistency of the accounts which oppose the mere suggestions which Xenophon's account provides.

Finally, we can turn to military considerations for an appraisal of probability in terms that are independent of questions of the expertise or reliability of either account. Given the size of the Kadmeia (and hence the likelihood that substantial provisions were on hand within it), the strength of the garrison, and the ultimate purpose of the post (which was to hold Thebes for Sparta), a surrender on the first day of the siege seems, at the very least, improbable. There were supporting forces on hand at Plataia and Thespiai (Xenophon Hell . 5.4.10; Plutarch Mor . 586e-f), and one of the three Spartan commanders, Lysanoridas, was away from Thebes at the time, presumably among these forces, and probably at Plataia (Plutarch Mor . 578a, 586e, 598f; see chapter 5, pp. 138-40). Although a small relief force from Plataia was quickly cut to pieces by the Thebans (Hell . 5.4.10), there would have been reason to believe that more substantial local support might soon be organized and, failing that, that an army from the Peloponnese ought to arrive in due course. Consistent with his picture of the desperate and ineffectual garrison commander, Xenophon does not report the dispatch of a messenger to Sparta from the garrison at Thebes, though this is reported by Diodoros 15.25.3, whose account, like Plutarch's, also stresses the urgency felt by the Thebans and Athenians to complete the reduction of the Kadmeia before the arrival of the Peloponnesian army. In fact,

Xenophon does report the dispatch of messengers to Plataia and Thespiai (Hell . 5.4.10), and these certainly indicate, despite Xenophon's ignorance or willful

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misrepresentation, that Sparta was notified and, therefore, that those in the Kadmeia had reason to anticipate help from the Peloponnese. As a final consideration, we may note that forty-three years later, a Macedonian garrison under siege in the Kadmeia under remarkably similar circumstances, though with even less hope of immediate relief, held out for well over two weeks until Alexander arrived with his army (Arrian Anab. 1.7-8). Overall, we must conclude that the impression of an abrupt surrender given by Xenophon carries no weight in view of the testimony of the other sources.

An apparently more important discrepancy emerges from Xenophon's account of the fate of the Spartan commander of the garrison, which lends support to his implication of the abruptness of the surrender. The sequence of his narrative at 5.4.13 indicates that the Spartans both learned of the uprising and put to death the harmost of the garrison before they summoned their allies and dispatched the army of Kleombrotos:

[Full Size]

[Full Size]. This again is contradicted by Diodoros 15.27.2-3, who says the Spartan commanders withdrew to the Peloponnese while the Peloponnesian army, already on its way, arrived just barely too late; Plutarch Pel . 13.2 likewise reports that the Spartan commanders met Kleombrotos in Megara, and in Mor . 598f he adds that the two of the three Spartan officers who were condemned to death for their failure were executed

[Full Size]at Corinth, before returning to Sparta.

In all other cases, apparent discrepancies can be resolved without outright rejection of one or another account, but here we have the one and only instance in which we must decide whether to accept Xenophon and reject Diodoros and his supporters, or the reverse. The implications of the decision are considerable, for entire sequences of events depend upon it. As in all other cases in which the immediate inferences from Xenophon must be set aside and reconciled with the authority represented by Diodoros, so here the decision must go against Xenophon. This leaves us with the question of how, or why, Xenophon would misrepresent events at this point.

As to why Xenophon was content to imply that the garrison commanders displayed a shockingly un-Spartan resolve in failing to stand to their posts, he is surely representing what must have been the general emotional reaction to these events among the Spartans and their supporters: How could these men have surrendered so quickly, without waiting for Kleombrotos? Any surrender, in other words, was too soon. The first day, the tenth, or the twentieth, it did not matter; it was all too soon . So Xenophon's account omits any indication of the passage of time before the surrender.

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As to why Xenophon described the execution of the harmost before the resolution to send out Kleombrotos, here he may have yielded to his own emotional response to the news. While he refers to the surrender of

[Full Size]as a communal action (5.4.11), Xenophon also speaks of "the harmost," without naming him (5.4.10, 13). Diodoros speaks of three

[Full Size], two of whom were executed, one of whom was heavily fined (15.27.3). Plutarch, who calls all three commanders harmosts, also provides their names: Herippidas and Arkissos (or Arkesos), who were executed, and Lysanoridas, who was fined and went into exile (Pel . 13.2, Mor . 598f). Plutarch also specifies that Lysanoridas was the third Spartan to succeed in command of the garrison of the Kadmeia after its original establishment by Phoibidas (Mor . 576a). This would indicate that Lysanoridas was the harmost at Thebes, and so he has been accepted by Stern (1884, 58-59 note 1), Parke (1927), and Cartledge (1987, 297). But Xenophon explicitly reports that the harmost was executed. Lysanoridas was the one Spartan commander who was not executed, according to Plutarch. How is this apparent contradiction to be resolved?

Parke (1927) showed the way, by pointing out circumstantial evidence indicating that, while Lysanoridas was harmost specifically of Thebes, Herippidas was harmost for a military command in central Greece, where he had recently seen to the establishment of a pro-Spartan government at Oreos on Euboia (Diodoros 15.30.3-4, correcting

[Full Size]to

[Full Size]

[Full Size], after Casaubon). Herippidas, then, would have been wintering his force at Thebes, a circumstance that explains the remarkable strength of the Theban garrison at this time, 1,500 men, compared to the 700 who garrisoned Athens under Kallibios in 404/3 (Aristotle AthPol . 37.2). By this explanation, both Lysanoridas and Herippidas could be legitimately described as harmosts, and Herippidas, who was at Thebes at the time of the surrender (Plutarch Mor . 586e, 598f) could therefore have been the harmost referred to by Xenophon. Parke has concluded otherwise, however, by suggesting that the third commander, Arkissos, whose precise rank we do not know, was most likely a second-in-command to Lysanoridas and was therefore, in Lysanoridas' absence, acting harmost of Thebes at the time of the surrender. Arkissos, therefore, would have beenthe harmost of Thebes at the time of the surrender, and it is to him, according to Parke, that Xenophon refers. Xenophon thereby omits "what it would pain him to record" (Parke 1927, 164), namely, Herippidas' similar fate, since Herippidas was personally known to Xenophon (see below).

This is a peculiar explanation, though not entirely implausible in light of Xenophon's personal quirks and their influence on his choice of subject matter. But it does not get us any closer to an explanation of the

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problem posed above, namely, why Xenophon gave notice of the execution of the harmost priority over his description of Kleombrotos' rescue mission. Another explanation of Xenophon's allusion will serve us better. We must admit that we do not know anything of the rank of Arkissos. He could well have been a second-in-command at Thebes, possibly a polemarch (cf. Xenophon Hell . 5.4.46), or as Parke also admits (and in accordance with Plutarch's designation of all three men as harmosts),like Herippidas he could have been the commander of another force detailed to this area. What is truly striking, however, is that, outside of this episode, we know nothing of either Lysanoridas or Arkissos. Herippidas, by contrast, is known to have had a distinguished career up to this point and ought to be regarded as the

senior commander in the area at the time, and the one most likely to be referred to anonymously by Xenophon.

Even before the episode at Oreos mentioned above, Herippidas had already served in central Greece, probably as a harmost, and had proven himself ruthlessly efficient in holding down a difficult command at Herakleia in Trachis, beginning in 399 (Diodoros 14.38.4-5; Polyainos 2.21). In 396 we find Herippidas closely associated with Agesilaos as his special emissary in Asia (Xenophon Hell . 3.4.6), and in 395 Herippidas replaced Lysander as the leading spokesman of the thirty Spartiate officers accompanying Agesilaos (Hell . 3.4.20). In that year, Herippidas also took over command of the Cyreans, and accompanying Agesilaos back to Greece the following year, he led that body of troops in the battle of Koroneia (Hell . 3.4.20, 4.3.15, 17; Ages . 2.10-11). For well over a year, then, at the end of Xenophon's service as a mercenary in Agesilaos' army, Herippidas had been Xenophon's immediate superior officer. As Parke has suggested, but, as I suggest, for different reasons, this personal connection must be the basis for Xenophon's aberrant account of Herippidas ' execution. Cartledge notes that Xenophon speaks with "disparagement" of Herippidas and that his leadership at Koroneia was "not to the satisfication of Xenophon" (1987, 156, 321). In one instance (an episode described by Xenophon Hell . 4.1.20-28), Herippidas does draw sharp criticism for his lack of tact, while Xenophon also makes a point of his inability to motivate his men sufficiently (a significant factor in 379/8, according to Diodoros 15.27.2). In the latter instance, however, I am unable to detect any reproach in Xenophon's account of the rout of their opponents by Herippidas' men, Xenophon among them. Nevertheless, on balance, and in view of Herippidas' deeds at Heraldeia (though these were not recorded by Xenophon), I agree with Cartledge, and I suggest that Xenophon found Herippidas to be a harsh and insensitive commander. Although he did not name the man (an avoidance of reference to personal involvement or connection so characteristic of Xeno-

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phon; cf., e.g., Hell . 3.1.1-2, and 7.5.15-17), it would seem that Xenophon chose to highlight the fate of the senior and most famous harmost from Thebes by placing it here, in 5.4.13, before beginning his lengthy account of the expedition of Kleombrotos. In so doing, moreover, he lent more emphasis to the impression of a precipitate surrender by the garrison. How ineffectual a commander! How well deserved his fate!

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Appendix VIsokrates 14, Plataikos, and Rhetorical Distortion

The historiographical nexus to which all issues involving the outbreak of the Boiotian War return is the common view that the account of Diodoros and all sources that

support his account are supposed to be distorted by an Athenocentric rhetorical invention, namely, that the Athenians gave immediate and enthusiastic public support to the Theban uprising. Thus, whereas Xenophon speaks only of private and covert support to the Thebans before the raid of Sphodrias, the supposedly contaminated sources suggest, and even plainly state, that the Athenians, collectively and publicly, deserve credit for the delivery of Thebes from Spartan tyranny. The claim is made outright by Isokrates (14.29), Deinarchos (1.38-39), and Aristides (Panath . 172-73, Dindorf 1.283-84); it underlies more general statements made by Demosthenes (16.14), Aischines (2.117), and Xenophon (Poroi 5.7).

Although the rich circumstantial detail of the supposed Athenian invention must give pause to those who wish to dispose of it, their position might be tenable if the infected sources were all "late" (as is sometimes stated, e.g., Ryder 1965, 55 and note 1). But Isokrates 14, Plataikos , was composed only five years after the event, and 14.29 makes an explicit reference to the salvation and restoration of the Theban exiles through the power of Athens (

[Full Size]

[Full Size]), after which the ungrateful Thebans went so far as to send an embassy to Sparta indicating their willingness to abandon the Athenians and give allegiance to the Spartans. The passage makes it clear that this vacillation took place before the eventual reunification of Thebes and Athens against Sparta, which came as a resuit of the raid of Sphodrias.

Although attempts have been made to impugn the historicity of the

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Plataikos (e.g., Cloché 1934, 81-84), it has been defended by Momigliano (1936, 27-31) and Cawkwell (1963, 84-85) (as it was earlier by Grote 1852, 220, and Jebb 1876, 177-83), who together find no demonstrable anachronism in the speech nor any apparent reason to invent the speech later for this particular occasion. The passage under discussion here, then (and 14.6, 17, 24, 36, which all allude to the same circumstances), can only be discounted if evidence can be adduced to demonstrate that here, at least, there is an invention.

It is not enough to allege that the vehemently anti-Theban tone of the speech should induce us to be skeptical of any reproach of Thebes, such as in this passage, as if this were sufficient to dismiss the supposedly factual basis of any reproach (so, e.g., Buckler 1979, 52). The anti-Theban tone of the speech is essential to its authenticity. Skepticism of allegations made against Thebes is certainly justified, but the nature of those allegations must be examined before deciding where fact leaves off and innuendo begins.

In this case, we must recognize that Isokrates' argument at this point does not involve an assertion that the Athenians gave open support to the returning Theban exiles; rather, it cites it as a fact already known to the audience, to support the assertion that is being made. And the assertion is that, in sending an embassy to Sparta offering terms of submission, the Thebans were behaving in a most ungrateful and even treacherous manner toward the Athenians. A further assertion is

built upon this, namely, that if the Spartans had accepted that offer of submission, nothing would have prevented the Thebans from marching with the Spartans against the Athenians, their own benefactors. We may be skeptical of these assertions, but it must be acknowledged that if the factual premise of Isokrates' argument, dealing as it does here with a point of recent Athenian public policy, were not a matter of common knowledge, the argument would seem very queer to his audience and would not serve at all to advance his case against Thebes. On the basis, then, of the logical coherence of Isokrates' argument, and even more so on the basis of the sequence of events expounded in chapter 5, we must accept the premise of Isokrates' argument as true.

The assertions arising from the premise do indeed deserve our skepticism. If they were true, or rather, if they were deeply and strongly believed by Isokrates' audience (which I accept as the Athenian public in general), then it is surprising that this powerful reproach of Thebes plays so small and incidental a part in the overall structure of Isokrates' castigation of Thebes, ranging as it does from the legendary march of the Argives against the Kadmeia (53-54) through the Persian and Peloponnesian wars (31-32, 57-62) to the most recent disputes over Oropos (20, 37). The fact is, the allegations had little credibility.

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As demonstrated in chapter 5, Athenian fears brought on by Kleombrotos' campaign turned back the tide of Athenian support for Thebes in the winter of 379/8. Motivated by perceptions of their own sudden vulnerability, the Athenians divorced themselves from the Thebans and set about negotiating their own entente with Sparta. The Athenians, in other words, were the treacherous party in this relationship. Theban desperation at this point is amply attested (Xenophon Hell . 5.4.20; Plutarch Pel . 14.1). The genesis of the fantastic story related by Plutarch about how Pelopidas and Gorgidas covertly induced Sphodrias to attack Athens and thus embroil her in war with Sparta is easy to understand in the atmosphere of mutual Theban-Athenian animosity, always latent but now deeply intensified. Also understandable, in this moment of desperation, is the Theban diplomatic mission to Sparta (reported by Isokrates as a fact), offering to respect all former agreements between Thebes and Sparta, which included the conventional stipulation that an ally of Sparta would march wherever the Spartans would lead (Isokrates 14.27; Plutarch Pel . 4.3-5.1; cf. Xenophon Hell . 2.2.20, 5.3.26). This was the ultimate Theban gambit to forestall the inevitable, and the Spartan ultimatum (again reported as a fact by Isokrates) that the Thebans must take back the Spartan supporters who had fled during the uprising and must expel those who had murdered the polemarchs, only confirmed the helpless isolation of Thebes at that point.

If the Athenians knew all this (and I believe they did), then how could Isokrates make such assertions against the Thebans? In Greek culture, blame never rests except on an inanimate object or a sacrificial victim (hence the Athenians' swift condemnation to death of the two generals who led them to support Thebes). The Athenians could not admit that they were to blame for the plight of the Thebans. Indeed, were they? Had not the Thebans, as much as or more than their own generals, been responsible for allowing Kleombrotos to cross Kithairon? An Athenian audience would therefore be predisposed to approve of such slander, even if they knew that they themselves had left the Theban conspirators to meet their doom alone. The important feature of this argument, however, the most pleasing part to

the Athenian ear, and the fact which could not be denied, was that the Athenians had acted resolutely, in the name of autonomy and freedom, to restore the rights to those who had been wronged by Sparta (cf. 14.17), and the Thebans had never acknowledged this service. The shame that had intervened since that glorious moment did not bear mentioning.

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Appendix VISpartan, Theban, and Athenian Forces in 378

In chapter 5, I state that the infantry force fielded by the Spartans and their allies in 378 was roughly double the size of that fielded by the Athenians and Thebans. Diodoros 15.26.2-4 and 32.1-2 provides the only direct testimony about the numbers of men in the field on various occasions in 378. The figures given by Diodoros lead to the impression that something over 18,000 Peloponnesian infantry and 1,500 cavalry under Agesilaos confronted some 12,000 Theban and Athenian hoplites and over 2,000 cavalry in the campaign of 378 (so Munn 1987, 133 note 82, e.g.). I now believe that these numbers are essentially sound as far as Theban and Athenian forces are concerned but that the total force led by Agesilaos was significantly larger than the 18,000 infantry mentioned in 15.32.1.

My reasons for reconsidering the size of the force led by Agesilaos derive from an analysis of the system of the Peloponnesian levy described by Diodoros 15.31.1-2, the details of which will be set forth in a separate study. The essence of the evidence for a total Peloponnesian levy of some 30,000 infantry (mostly but not all hoplites) is the statement of Xenophon Hell . 5.4.15 that in the winter of 379/8 Kleombrotos left Sphodrias at Thespiai with one-third of the allied contingents (and money to hire mercenaries), combined with the statement by Diodoros 15.29.6 that Sphodrias invaded Attica with "more than 10,000 soldiers." These figures deserve to be taken at face value, and they yield the figure 30,000 as an approximation of the total Peloponnesian levy of 378. The figure given by Diodoros 15.32.1 for the size of Agesilaos' infantry force, over 18,000 men, refers specifically to the force brought by Agesilaos from the Peloponnese. These, combined with Sphodrias' "more than 10,000 soldiers"

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already in Boiotia again yield a figure of close to 30,000 Peloponnesian infantry in the field against the Thebans and Athenians in 378.

Theban numbers can be estimated from Diodoros 15.26.2-4, where out of a total force of "no less than 12,000 hoplites and more than 2,000 cavalrymen" assembled at Thebes for the siege of the Kadmeia, 5,000 hoplites and 500 cavalrymen are Athenian. Not all of the remaining 7,000 hoplites and 1,500 cavalrymen were Thebans, strictly speaking, since Diodoros reports that the Thebans

were reinforced by many men from other Boiotian cities. The distinction is perhaps not very important, however, since Xenophon Hell . 5.4.46 notes that between the campaigns of 378 and 377, substantial numbers from Boiotian cities (literally, "the demos") moved to Thebes to continue their opposition to Spartan-supported oligarchies in Boiotia.

These numbers are controlled to some extent by the accounts of Xenophon Hell . 4.2.17, in which about 5,000 Boiotian hoplites and 800 cavalrymen fought at the battle of the Nemea River in 394 (when the numbers of both arms are said to be low owing to the absence of the Orchomenians); of Diodoros 15.52.2, in which a total levy of Thebans and all willing Boiotian allies before the battle of Leuktra in 371, when Theban fortunes were at a low ebb, amounted to not more than 6,000 men, presumably hoplites; and of Plutarch Pel . 31.2-3 and 35.1, which report levies of 7,000 hoplites not long after Leuktra (see the discussion of these figures by Anderson 1970, 197-98).

In addition to hoplite numbers, we must allow for a sizable force of peltasts and other light-armed troops at the disposal of the Thebans. We have no direct evidence for their numbers, however, and we can only conjecture. A figure of 4,000-5,000 light infantry, Boiotian and mercenary (Xenophon Hell , 5.4.54), seems a fair guess, and one more likely to be too small than too large. That the Thebans, and Boiotians generally, were able to field large numbers of light-armed troops is indicated by Thucydides 4.93.3, in which more than 10,500 light-armed and peltast troops accompanied a Boiotian levy of 7,000 hoplites at Delion in 424.

As to Athenian forces, we possess more numbers but not necessarily more certainty. Diodoros 15.26.2 and 15.32.2 report that the Athenians sent 5,000 hoplites and 500 cavalry to Thebes on the occasion of the uprising in 379/8, and again 5,000 infantrymen (probably hoplites) and 200 cavalry to Thebes during Agesilaos' campaign of 378. These expeditionary forces represent some fraction of the total Athenian levy, the remainder of which must have been available for home defense—a critical concern during this war.

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Diodoros 15.29.7 reports that at the beginning of the war in 378, the Athenians voted to enroll 20,000 hoplites and 500 cavalrymen. There are problems with these figures. The number of cavalrymen is unduly small if it represents a total enrollment, since the Athenians fielded expeditionary forces of around 600 cavalrymen in 394 (Xenophon Hell . 4.2.17) and 400 cavalrymen in 364 (Xenophon Hell . 7.4.29), and by the 350s the Athenians had a statutory enrollment (perhaps not always maintained) of 1,000 cavalrymen (Xenophon Hipparch . 9.3; see the discussion of Bugh 1988, 145-58). It is, moreover, hard to believe that the 500 cavalrymen sent to Thebes early in 378 (Diodoros 15.26.2) constituted the entire Athenian cavalry force. The true number must have been somewhere between 500 and 1,000.

The number of 20,000 hoplites is incredibly large. The Athenians never put anything like that number into the field on this or any other occasion. The number is either an absurdly optimistic and impossible goal set by the demos (which is perhaps a possible explanation, in view of the desperate situation), or it is an outright error. Polybios 2.62.6 states that the Athenians put 10,000 soldiers into the field in 378 (

[Full Size]

[Full Size]), which is a much more plausible fig-ure, but one that is still vague in certain respects. The figure does not distinguish hoplites from cavalry (both called

[Full Size]by Diodoros 15.29.7) nor from light-armed infantry. It might represent the total of all of these arms put into the field by the Athenians, but I think that it more likely represents the number of Athenian hoplites, metics as well as citizens, mobilized during the war. With 5,000 hoplites regularly sent to reinforce the Thebans, this would leave a plausible 5,000 more hoplites on guard in Attica.

The 5,000 hoplites for home defense would not have been the choicest troops. They would have been composed largely of the youngest (18-19-year-old) and oldest (40-59-year-old) age-classes, and possibly of men whose qualifications for hoplite service were otherwise marginal. They would have been best suited for garrison duty in Athens and Peiraeius and in the forts of Attica (cf. Thucydides 1.93.6, 105.4, 2.13.6-7). This number, divided roughly in half with about 2,500 hoplites for the walls of Athens and Peiraieus and the rest for the garrison forts of Attica, is plausible as an absolute minimum estimate for defensive forces at a time when a large enemy army was operating nearby. Strengthening these forces through the addition of mercenaries was probably a continual concern of the Athenians (see chapter 5, pp. 168-70 and note 61 on garrison strength at this time).

The figure of 10,000 for a total Athenian hoplite force, at least half of whom were required for home defense, derives support from expeditionary numbers attested before and after 378. Xenophon Hell . 4.2.17

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reports that about 6,000 Athenian hoplites fought in the battle of the Nemea River in 394. Assuming that this force comprised all eligible hoplites in the 20-49-year-old

age-classes, the figure indicates a total hoplite force of men 18-59 years old of 9,375 (see the percentages provided by Hansen 1985, 12, and cf. the calculation of Athenian hoplites in 394, before casualties, at a minimum of 9,250 by Strauss 1986, 80). Diodoros 15.63.2 reports that the Athenians sent a force of 12,000

[Full Size]under Iphikrates into the Peloponnese in 369. This was a full levy,

[Full Size]that even included the

[Full Size], the 18-19-year-olds, the cavalry, and quite likely light-armed Athenians as well (Diodoros 15.63.2; Xenophon Hell . 6.5.49, 52). On these numbers and their relation to the total Athenian citizen population, see the discussion of Hansen 1985, 36-43.

The number of light-armed troops available to the Athenians is strictly a matter of conjecture. Strauss 1986, 81, estimates the number of Athenian thetes, the poorest Athenian census class, in 394 at 5,000-7,000. Allowing for an increase in numbers by 378, we could conjecture that Diodoros' figure of 20,000 refers to a combined mobilization of 10,000 hoplites and 10,000 thetes. We are still far from any estimate of Athenian light-armed troops, however, since it is highly probable that the vast majority of Athenian thetes performing military service did so as rowers in the fleet. For light infantry, the Athenians must have been heavily dependent upon mercenaries.

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Appendix VIIThe Treaty of 375—Bilateral or Multilateral?

Much discussion has been devoted to the question of whether the treaty of 375 was bilateral, between Athens and Sparta, or multilateral, as "Common Peace," koine eirene , open to all Greeks, combatants and noncombatants alike. The terms of the debate are set forth most explicitly by Ryder (1965), who posits that "Koine Eirene had a generally accepted technical meaning" (xi) and that this technical definition can be recognized in the following key features of such "Common Peace" treaties:First, that their principal clause laid down that all Greek states should be free and autonomous; second, that the treaties were made between all the Greeks, that is to say that they were not bilateral agreements limited to the two sides fighting a war, but were agreements of a general nature applicable to all Greeks equally, whether or not they had taken part in the preceding war (Ryder 1965, xvi).

Ryder concluded that by this measure the peace of 375 was indeed a multilateral treaty, a koine eirene , as Diodoros 15.38.1 in fact so calls it (Ryder 1965, 58-63, 124-26). Applying similar, but not always identical, criteria, other scholars have reached the same conclusion (so Momigliano 1934, 482-86; Hampl 1938, 12-19; Roos 1949, 279-82; Hamilton 1991, 190-95).

This approach is misconceived, however, for it forces the evidence to conform to a rigid definition that is nowhere made explicit in our sources. In so doing, it neglects the skill of the Greeks, and especially the Athenians, at shifting definitions to suit immediate needs. By the very form and nature of their confederacy, the Athenians had provided the basis for claiming that they were the best-qualified arbiters of freedom and autonomy for all Greeks (see chapter 5, notes 17 and 26). The Spartans, of course, made the same claim. When these two powers came to

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an understanding between themselves, as Xenophon (Hell . 6.2.1), Diodoros (15.38.4), Nepos (13.2.2), and Isokrates (14.41, 15.109) state or imply that they did, they would certainly have announced the result of this bilateral agreement to be a Common Peace, affording freedom and autonomy to all Greeks.

The two powers could claim that such a treaty had the consent of, and was open to, all Greeks. For the two powers, after having agreed on the terms of peace between themselves, would next each convene the assemblies of their own allies to have them vote whether or not to accept the peace on the terms proffered. This process is attested among the allies of Athens in the oath of allegiance of the Kerkyraians and Athenians (IG II2 97 = Tod 127, lines 21-23, 31-35), and the very event in 375 was the occasion of the speech by Epameinondas

[Full Size](that is, to the assembly of Athenian allies) mentioned by Diodoros 15.38.3. Among the allies of Sparta, the process is best attested earlier in the bilateral treaty known as the Peace of Nikias (Thucydides 5.17.2-18.1). In the case of the treaty of 375, who among the allies of either side except the Thebans would have had any reason to dissent publicly and leave themselves ekspondoi , outside of the treaty? As to the theoretical extension of this treaty to all Greeks, any other Greeks who wished to be

embraced by the terms of the treaty could do so by joining the alliance of one or another of the two powers.

Many states did in fact join the Athenian alliance during the peace of 375-373 (see Cargill 1981, 61-66). This proves that the Athenian perception that this peace treaty secured their ascendency better than any other had (Isokrates 15.110) was held by others as well. The hegemonia now shared by Sparta and Athens, one ruling the land, the other the sea, according to Diodoros 15.38.4 (cf. Nepos 13.2.2 and Eusebius, p. 196 Karst), was the inevitable product of such a treaty made at this moment. There is no reason to believe that any clause of the treaty so referred to the hegemonia of Athens and Sparta.

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― 241 ―

GENERAL INDEX

A

Acharnai, 65 .

See also Menidi

Aeneas Tacticus: on territorial defense, 14 n31, 30 , 104 -6, 109 , 194 ;

on signaling, 31 n61, 92 , 104 , 107 n23;

works, 56 n50, 104 n15, 105 , 106 -7n23;

personal experience, 181 -82

Agesilaos, 53 , 55 , 103 , 117 , 150 , 152 -67, 174 , 181 , 193 , 220 ;

favorably treated by Xenophon, 132 , 157 , 161 ,164 -65;

objectives in Boiotian War, 153 , 154 , 158 , 160 -61, 163 , 164 -66, 167 -68;

passage through Kithairon, 155 , 163 , 167 , 170 ;

actions in Boiotia in 378, 53 , 157 -62, 225 , 226 ;

in 377, 163 -67;

leadership criticized, 160 -61,166 n57.

See also Chabrias

Agis, 162

Aigaleos: barrier to invasion, 98 , 102 , 107 -8, 150 ;

in the Greek War of Independence, 206 ;

investigation of, 93 n37;

maps , 99 , 204 ;

figures 21, 24.

See also Aigaleos-Parnes gap; Aigaleos tower; Kamatero, wall; Thriasian Lager

Aigaleos-Parnes gap, 37 -38, 63 , 65 , 202 ;

strategic importance of, 37 , 94 , 98 -102, 106 , 108 , 113 -14, 118 , 150 ;

Athens not visible from, 93 ;

in Archidamos' invasion of Attica, 102 , 150 ;

in the Greek War of Independence, 61 , 202 , 205 -9;

beekeeping in, 84 n17;

map , 39 ;

figures 9, 21-24.

See also Aigaleos; Dema tower; Dema wall

Aigaleos tower, 85 n18, 87 n24, 93 , 94 , 206 ;

maps , 39 , 99 ;

figure 35.

See also Watchtowers, in Attica

Aigina, 171 , 173 , 212

Aigosthena, 144 , 155 ; map , 99

Aischines: as ephebe, 188 -89; as epilektos , 189 n9

Akarnania, 172 , 176

Alexander of Macedon, 122 , 218

Alyzeia, 172

Anaphlystos, 11 , 22 ;

map , 99

Anderson, J. K., 49 -50

Androtion, 217

Androutsas, O., 60

Ano Liosia, 65 ;

map , 39 ;

figure 23

Antipater, 124

Aphidna, 9 -10, 16 , 19 , 26 , 100 -101;

maps , 6 , 99 ;

figure 6

Archaeological evidence, value and limits of, xvii -xviii, 32 -33, 42 -46, 90 n28, 110 -12, 131

Archidamian War, 112 -13.

See also Archidamos; Peloponniesian War

Archidamos: besieges Oinoe, 8 ;

invades Attica in 431, 52 , 101 ,102, 103 , 107 -8, 150

Aristoteles, decree of, 141 n17, 143 n20, 148 n26

Aristotle, on territorial defense, 3 , 28 -29, 30 , 56 n50

Arkissos, 219 -20

Armenians, 30

Artaxerxes, 135 , 148 n26, 173 n69, 215

Asopos valley, 149 , 156 , 157 , 164 , 167

Athenian confederacy, second, 130 , 132 , 141 n17, 175 -76, 180 , 229 -30

Athenian sentiment: anti-Spartan, 134 , 136 -37, 140 -41, 147 ;

― 242 ―

Athenian sentiment (continued )

anti-Theban, 141 , 144 -45, 147 , 174 , 222 -24.

See also Boiotians; Sparta and Spartans; Thebans

Athens: fortifications of, 5 , 15 , 43 , 115 , 122 -23, 148 , 152 , 227 ;

plain of, 37 , 65 , 98 , 107 , 120 , 150 , 202 ;

signal system linked to, 93 -94, 169 .

See also Kononian walls; Long walls

Ayia Paraskevi, 10

B

Barrier walls, 11 , 13 , 14 , 18 , 33 n64, 53 -57, 56 n49, 100 , 105 , 106 , 108 , 121 , 187 .

See also Dema wall; Isthmian stockade; Palisades; Theban stockade

Bearzot, C., 191 -92

Beehives, 67 n5, 68 n8, 71 , 76 , 77 -78, 82 -86, 91 , 124

Beloch, K. J., 8

Besa, 22

Best, J. G. P., 212 , 213

Boiotia, possibility of invasion from, 3 , 9 , 16 -17, 20 -22, 37 , 94 , 100 -103, 107 , 119 -21, 202 , 208 .

See also Boiotian War; Boiotians

Boiofian confederacy, 174 , 175

Boiotian War, 18 , 95 , 103 -4, 109 -10, 111 , 117 -18, 124 -25, 130 -83, 187 -88, 190 , 193 -95;

modern works on, 130 n2;

the name, 130 n1, 152

Boiotians: allied to Athenians, 115 , 147 ;

hostile to Athenians, 7 -8, 21 -22, 25 , 29 , 107 , 121 , 187 , 190 , 193 -94.

See also Athenian sentiment; Thebans

Bourbakis, D., 61 n61, 205 -8

C

Cartledge, P., 219 , 220

Cavalry, 105 , 106 , 108 , 138 , 151 , 160 , 187 ;

Athenian, 15 , 20 -23, 31 , 54 -55, 108 , 121 , 137 , 156 , 158 , 160 , 225 -27;

Spartan, 156 , 158 , 160 , 166 , 213 , 225 ;

Theban, 20 , 138 , 157 , 158 , 160 , 164 , 225 -26;

and the Dema wall, 48 -49, 52 -53

Chabrias, 49 , 53 -57, 59 n56, 124 , 135 -36, 150 -51, 155 -61, 163 -66, 182 -83, 210 -15;

commander of mercenaries, 49 , 57 , 135 -36, 137 , 139 , 140 , 144 , 145 , 156 , 158 , 173 , 177 -79, 190 , 210 -15;

directed defensive works in Nile delta, 135 , 150 -51;

at Eleutherai, 107 , 137 , 139 , 140 , 212 ;

elected general, 136 , 150 , 156 , 210 -13;

stand against Agesilaos at Thebes, 53 -54, 103 , 157 -61, 182 , 193 ;

probably involved with design of Theban stockade, 54 , 57 , 103 , 104 , 150 -51;

of Dema wall, 57 , 103 , 150 , 156 ;

of Isthmian stockade, 54 -55;

on Euboia, 165 n55;

at Naxos, 171 , 174 ;

and Phokion, 55 , 57 , 182 n91, 190 -91, 193 ;

death erroneously reported, 133 ;

leadership acclaimed, 157 -58, 182 -83;

and the Academy, 181 ;

trial of, 190 , 193 ;

neglected by Xenophon, 157 , 160 , 166 , 183 ;

statues of, 182 -83.

See also Eleutherai;

Peltasts Chaironeia, battle of, 121 -23

Chaldaians, 30

Chalkis, 165 n55, 203

Chandler, L., 16 , 18

Charax , 88 .

See also

Chremonidean War, 12 , 98

Cloché, P., 210 -11

Common Peace. See Koine eirene

Corinthian Gulf, transport across, 162 , 171 -72

Corinthian War, 102 -3, 109 , 110 , 115 -17, 135 , 188 , 212 , 213 .

See also Long walls, of Corinth; Nemea River

Cyprus, 55 n46, 135 , 213 , 214

Cyrus, 30 , 215

D

Daphni pass, 203 , 209 ;

map , 204

Declaration of war, 147 -48 and n26, 150

Defense: fifth-century practice, 4 -5, 15 -16, 21 , 109 , 148 ;

fourth-century debate about, 4 -5, 23 -25, 187 -88, 190 , 191 , 192 -94;

fourth-century practice, 104 -9, 148 -52, 167 -70, 187 -95.

See also Aeneas Tacticus; Demosthenes; Perikles; Plato; Xenophon;

Dekeleia, 10 , 16 , 17 , 31 , 100 , 101 n8, 113 , 162 ;

map , 99

Dekeleian War, 108 , 113

Delion, 151 , 226

Dema, the name, 11

Dema house, 40 n4, 41 n5, 43 -46, 199 ;

map , 39

Dema tower, 13 , 63 -95, 100 . 124;

location, 63 -65;

maps , 39 , 64 , 99 ;

figures 9 ,

― 243 ―

20 ;

relationship to Dema wall, 63 , 90 -91, 91 -95, 100 , 110 , 111 -12, 113 -14, 118 , 124 ;

structural remains, 65 -67, 69 -70;

map , 66 ;

figures 25, 26 ;

compared to other towers, 70 n 13, 88 -89, 95 , 100 -101;

excavation, 67 -71, 81 -84, 124 , figures 25-28 ;

finds, 70 -84, 110 -12, 124 ;

figures 27-33 ;

date of original structure, 89 - 91, 110 -12, 124 ;

form of original structure, 88 -89;

view from, 64 -65, 92 -94, 100 ;

figures 21-24 ;

not a command post, 91 -92;

not a signal link to Athens, 92 -93;

used for signal communications across the plain of Eleusis, 63 , 94 -95, 100 -101, 103 , 109 , 118 , 124 , 125 ;

later uses of, 81 -88, 112 , 124 .

See also Beehives; Watchtowers, in Attica

Dema wall, 11 -14, 33 , 37 -125, 150 -52, 154 , 156 , 161 , 187 , 199 , 201 , 202 , 206 , 208 -9;

maps 6 ,39 , 64 , 99 , 204 ;

figures 9-16,18-24 ;

location, 11 , 37 -38;

description, 12 , 38 -43, 57 -59;

northern sector, 38 , 41 , 42 , 57 -62, 202 , 206 -9;

masonry styles, 38 , 41 , 42 -43, 46 , 57 -58, 124 , 151 ;

preservation, 40 -41, 61 -62, 202 ;

sally ports, 38 -41, 47 -50, 53 , 57 , 58 -59, 62 , 151 ;

gateways, 40 , 41 , 44 , 48 -49, 52 ;

relation to Dema house, 44 -46;

saltcellar, 43 -44, 46 , 90 , 112 , 114 , 124 , 199 -201;

compared to other fieldworks, 53 -57, 104 , 124 ;

defense of, 47 -53, 58 -59, 108 ;

encampment at, 94 -95, 156 ;

dates previously suggested for, 11 -13, 42 -43, 98 , 112 -15, 122 , 200 ;

length of time for construction, 97 -98, 120 , 151 -52;

strategic purpose, 98 -104, 106 , 108 , 124 -25, 154 ;

not in existence before raid of Sphodrias, 103 , 117 -18;

not appropriate to threat from Boiotia, 100 -101, 119 -21;

in the Boiotian War, 103 -4, 109 -10, 117 -18, 124 -25, 150 -52, 154 , 156 , 161 , 182 , 187 ;

and Greek War of Independence, 12 , 60 -61, 202 , 206 -9.

See also Aigaleos-Parnes gap; Cavalry; Chabrias; Dema tower; Hoplites; Kalistiri; Light-armed infantry; Peltasts

Demainetos, 212

Demeas, 156 , 212

Demophon, 137

Demosthenes: on territorial defense, 24 -25, 56 , 121 , 122 -23, 194 ;

as teichopoios , 122 -23;

on the Boiotian War, 176 , 181 , 182

Dieitrephes, 215

Diodoros: limitations of, 132 -34, 135 , 222 ;

supposed doublets in, 133 -34, 174 -75.

See also Ephoros; Xenophon Dryos Kephalai, 20 , 139 n15, 142 ;

map , 99 ;

figure 42

E

Egypt, 135 -36, 150 -51, 173 , 179 , 210 -11, 213 , 215

Eisphora , 149 , 173 , 176 -77

Eleusis, 7 , 19 , 26 , 28 n57, 43 n9, 65 , 94 , 95 , 121 ;

plain of, 37 , 52 , 65 , 94 , 98 -103, 107 , 118 , 146 , 150 , 154 , 169 n61;

under the Thirty, 114 -15;

in the Boiotian War, 145 , 152 , 169 ;

in the Greek War of Independence, 203 -9;

maps, ,6 . 99 , 204 ;

figures 1, 21, 22

Eleutherai, 8 -9, 16 , 17 , 19 , 20 , 94 , 101 ;

in the Boiotian War, 107 , 137 , 138 n13, 139 -40, 168 , 169 n60;

maps , 6 , 99 ;

figure 1

Eliot, C. W.J., 12 , 13 , 121 -22.

See also Jones, J. E.

Epameinondas, 54 , 120 , 175 , 182 , 190 , 230

Ephebes, 4 , 6 n7, 28 , 31 , 107 , 178 n82, 188 , 188 -89, 193 , 194 -95.

See also Aischines

Ephebic oath, 31 -32, 188 n4

Ephoros: condensed by Diodoros, 133 , 136 n11, 157 , 160 , 217 ;

rhetorical influence on, 134 n5, 222

Epilektoi , 189 -90, 194 , 195

Epiteichismos, 31

Eretria, 165 n55

Euagoras of Salamis, 135 , 213

Euboia, 55 , 165 n55, 177 -78, 189 , 219

Euboulos, 192

Evacuation of the countryside, 14 , 15 , 21 -23, 30 -31

Exagogeis , 179 n84

F

Fabvier, 203

Finlay, G., 17 , 207

Fortifications, significance of, 5 -6, 13 -15, 26 -27, 32 -33, 193 .

See also Barrier

― 244 ―

Fortifications, significance of (continued ) walls; Dema wall; Forts and fortresses

Forts and fortresses: in Attica, 7 -11, 122 , 187 , 227 ;

functions compared to urban fortifications, 5 , 14 -15, 25 -27, 31 , 32 ;

functions contrasted with barrier walls, 13 -15, 18 ;

functions according to various modern interpretations, 15 -32;

in peacetime, 27 -30;

placement, 19 , 26 -27;

as refuges, 22 -23, 26 -27, 30 ;

garrisons, 4 , 6 , 18 -20, 27 -28, 31 , 47 , 148 , 168 -70, 178 -79, 193 , 227 ;

in the Peloponnesian War, 7 , 8 , 10 , 11 , 18 , 169 n61;

in the Boiotian War, 145 , 146 , 148 , 168 -70, 178 -79;

in the Hellenistic era, 7 , 10 -11;

maps 6, 99.

See also Aphidna; Eleusis; Eleutherai; Oinoe; Oropos; Panakton; Phyle; Rhamnous; Sounion; Thorikos

G

Gameboards, 71 , 78 -79, 83 , 89

Garlan, Y., 32

Garrisons. See Forts and fortresses Gehrke, H.-J., 191 -92

Generals: election of, 4 , 150 , 190 -93, 210 -12;

responsible for defense, 3 -4, 190 -95;

professionalism of, 56 ;

trials of, 141 -42, 144 -45, 193 , 212 -13, 224 ;

of Chabrias, 190 , 193 ;

of Sphodrias, 132 , 146 , 147 .

See also Agesilaos; Chabrias; Demeas; Demophon; Epameinondas; Gorgidas; Iphikrates; Kleombrotos; Pelopidas; Phokion; Timotheos;

Gomme, A. W., 4 -5

Gordon, T., 107

Grogginess, 159 , 224

Grain supply, 124 , 177

Grass Stethos, 166

Greek War of Independence, 12 , 17 , 60 -61, 202 -9

Gyphtokastro, 8 , 17 ;

mistakenly identified as Oinoe and Panakton, 8 -9.

See also Eleutherai

H

Hakoris, 135 , 136 , 210

Haliartos, 138 n13

Harma, 17

Herakldeia, 220

Herippidas, 219 -21

Histiaiotis, 177

Hoplites, 57 , 105 , 106 , 108 , 138 , 166 ;

mercenary, 156 , 159 , 178 , 190 , 194 -95, 213 -15;

Athenian, 55 , 117 , 121 , 137 , 148 , 156 , 157 , 159 , 178 , 189 -90, 225 -28;

Athenian katalogos of, 189 , 214 ;

Spartan, 148 , 156 , 158 , 225 ;

Theban, 20 -21, 55 , 138 , 157 , 225 , 226 ;

and the Dema wall, 47 -58, 108 .

See also Epilektoi

Hosios Meletios, 17

Howe, S. G., 206

Hymettos tower, 70 n13, 85 n18, 87 n23, 87 n24, 88 -89;

map , 99 ;

figure 34.

See also Watchtowers, in Attica

Hypatodoros, 165

I

Iphikrates, 49 , 56 n50, 117 , 124 , 136 n11, 173 n69, 179 n84, 212 , 215 , 228

Isokrates: Panegyrikos , 134 , 180 n87, Plataikos , 217 , 222 -24

Isthmian stockade, 54 -55, 120 ;

other Isthmian fortifications, 33 n64

J

Jones, J. E., L. H. Sackett, and C. W.J. Eliot, 12 , chapter 2 passim , 91 , 97 -98, 121 , 199

K

Kadmeia, surrender of, 139 , 140 , 145 , 146 , 216 -21.

See also Theban uprising of 379/8

Kalistiri, 40 , 51 , 65 ;

road on, 40 , 52 ;

map , 39 ;

figure 22

Kallias, 212

Kallibios, 219

Kallistratos, 175 , 190 , 192 , 193

Kamatero, battle of, 205 -9;

wall, 206 , 209 ;

map , 204

Karaïskakis, G., 61 n61, 203 -9

Karydi, 140 n16;

map , 99 ;

figures 41, 42

Katsimidi, 10 , 100 n6

Kenchreai, 54

Keratsini, 206

Kerkyra, 172 , 230

Khaidari, 203 , 207 , 209 ;

map , 204

Khasia, 205 , 207 -8

Kienitz, F. K., 210

Kings Peace of 386, 135 , 141 , 142 -43, 147 .

See also Peace

Kirsten, E., 114

Kithairon, 7 -9, 16 , 17 , 65 , 94 ;

passes in,-9, 20 , 101 , 107 , 118 , 139 -140;

mili-

― 245 ―

tary, action on, 107 , 118 , 136 , 139 -40, 141 , 144 , 145 , 148 , 149 , 154 -55, 162 , 163 , 167 , 170 -71, 178 , 182 , 203 ;

maps , 6 , 99 ;

figures 4, 24, 41, 42.

See also Agesilaos; Chabrias; Dryos Kephalai; Eleutherai; Karydi; Kleombrotos

Kleombrotos: invades Boiotia,117 , 139 -44, 145 , 155 , 162 , 174 , 193 , 212 , 216 , 218 , 219 , 221 , 224 , 225 ;

repelled on Kithairon, 107 , 170 -71;

in Phokis, 172 ;

unfavorably treated by Xenophon, 132 , 142 , 170

Kleomenes, 11 , 107

Koine eirene , 29 , 229 .

See also Peace

Kolokotronis, T., 12

Konon, 116

Kononian walls, 43 , 152 ;

figure 17.

See also Athens, fortifications of

Koroneia, battle of, 153 -54, 220

Koroni, 11 , 33 n64, 86 n21;

map , 6

Korydallos tower, 94 ;

map , 99 ;

figure 35.

See also Watchtowers, in Attica

Kotroni, 9 -10.

See also Aphidna

Kraiker, W, 114

Krateros, 26 n55

Kreusis, 144 , 155 ;

map , 99

Ktesikles, 215

Kynos Kephalai, 142 , 143 , 157 , 163 , 164 ;

map , 99

Kynosoura, 11 ;

map, 6

L

Lamian War, 121 , 123 , 195

Leake, W. M., 8 , 17

Lechaion, 54 , 116 , 117

Leuktra, battle of, 119 , 131 , 182 , 226

Light-armed infantry, 3 , 5 , 29 , 105 -9, 157 , 158 , 160 , 187 , 188 , 226 -28;

and the Dema wall, 48 -50, 52 -53, 55 , 108 .

See also Peltasts;

Lochos , 151

Lohmann, H., 114

Long walls: of Athens, 115 -16, 152 ;

of Corinth, 116 , 151 -52

Lykourgos, 4 n3, 7 n10, 123 , 188 n4, 194

Lysander, 220

Lysanoridas, 138 , 140 , 217 , 219 -20

M

McCredie, J., 12 , 60 , 98

Macedonian domination, 18 , 26 n55, 98 , 195 , 218 .

See also Alexander of Macedon; Chaironeia; Lamian War; Philip II of Macedon; Philip V of Macedon

Makriyannis, Y., 207

Manetho, 210 -11

Mardonios, 149

Mavrovouniotis, V, 61 n61, 205 -8

Megara, 7 , 17 , 22 , 65 ;

possibility of invasion from, 22 , 94 , 101 -3, 106 , 116 , 145 ;

Spartan passage through, 101 , 139 -40, 145 , 155 , 157 , 218 ;

Agesilaos at, 167 , 170 ;

Chabrias and, 167 n59;

maps , 6 , 99 ;

figure 41

Megarians, Megarid. See Megara

Melainai, 17

Menidi, 61 n61, 65 , 207 ;

map, 204 ;

figure 24.

See also Acharnai

Mercenaries, 30 , 55 -57, 106 , 136 , 220 , 225 -28;

in Athenian service, 6 n7, 28 , 48 -49, 55 -57, 117 , 136 , 138 , 140 , 144 , 148 , 156 , 158 -59, 177 -79, 188 , 190 , 211 -15, 227 -28;

in Persian service, 135 -36, 173 , 179 ;

in Spartan service, 143 , 155 , 220 , 225 ;

cost of, 136 , 169 , 177 -79, 188 .

See also Chabrias; Hoplites; Iphikrates; Pay; Peltasts

Mesolongi, 202

Metics, 152

Milchhoefer, A., 16

Mountains: as barriers against invasion, 3 , 4 -5, 29 , 49 , 100 -102, 105 -8, 109 , 187 ;

in the Boiotian War, 107 , 109 , 139 -40, 144 -45, 149 -50.

See also Aigaleos; Kithairon; Parnes; Passes; Pateras

Myoupolis, 8 n12.

See also Oinoe, Attic

Mysians, 29

N

Naval forces: Athenian, 117 , 149 , 171 -72, 174 , 175 -76, 179 n83, 180 ;

Spartan, 171 -72, 177

Naxos, battle of, 56 n48, 171

Nektanebis I, 135 , 210 -11

Nemea River, battle of, 226 , 228

Nepos, 211

Notaras, P., 61 n61, 205 -8

O

Ober, J., 18 -25

Oinoe: Attic, 7 -8, 16 , 19 , 32 n62, 94 , 101 , 169 n61;

in the Boiotian War, 145 , 152 , 168 ;

maps , 6 , 99 ;

figure 3 ;

Corinthian, 117

Olynthos and Olynthians, 131 , 141 , 153 , 166

― 246 ―

Oreos, 177 , 219 , 220

Oropos, 9 , 203 ;

seized by Thebans, 119 , 190 , 193 , 223 ;

maps , 6 , 99

P

Palestine, 135 , 150

Palisades, 53 -57.

See also Barrier walls;

Panakton, 7 , 16 , 26 , 32 n62, 94 , 169 n61;

in the Boiotian War, 145 , 152 , 156 , 164 , 168 ;

maps , 6 , 99 ;

figure 2

Panthoidas. See Tanagra

Parke, H. W., 212 , 213 , 219 -20

Parnes, 7 , 9 , 16 , 65 , 205 ;

maps , 6 , 99 , 204 ;

figures 9, 23.

See also Aigaleos-Parnes gap; Dekeleia; Khasia; Phyle

Passes, defense of, 3 , 13 , 16 -20, 98 -102, 105 -9, 152 , 181 .

See also Aigaleos-Parnes gap; Daphni pass; Dryos Kephalai; Kithairon; Sacred Way

Pateras, 65 ;

map , 99 ;

figure 22

Patrols, 6 , 22 -23, 28 , 31 , 167 , 169 , 178 , 188 .

See also Kithairon; Passes; Peripoloi

Pausanias, 9 , 183 n94

Pay, military, 169 -70n61, 176 -79

Peace: of 375, 118 , 134 , 136 , 172 -75, 177 , 179 -80, 182 , 229 -30;

of 371, 119 , 134 , 174 -75;

of Antalkidas, 135 n8, 177 ;

altar of, 177 , 180 .

See also King's Peace of 386;

Koine eirene

Peiraieus, 4 , 26 , 118 , 145 , 176 -77, 203 -7, 213 , 227 ;

fortifications of, 5 , 15 , 115 -16, 117 , 122 -23, 148 , 152 , 227 ;

gates of, 116 , 146 , 147 , 148 n26, 152

Pelopidas, 172 , 224

Peloponnesian War, 4 , 15 , 18 , 28 n56, 31 , 109 , 112 -14, 129 ;

forts in use during, 7 -11, 15 -16

See also Archidamian War; Archidamos; Dekeleian War; Perikles

Peltasts, 48 , 53 -54, 56 -57, 140 , 212 -15;

and the Dema wall, 48 -53, 57 -59;

and Chabrias, 139 -40, 145 , 178 , 212 -15;

in Spartan service, 144 , 160 ;

in Theban service, 166 , 226 .

See also Light-armed infantry; Mercenaries;

Pentele, 65

Perachora, 117

Perikles, defensive strategy of, 4 n4, 5 , 15 , 21 , 33 , 109 , 113 , 148 .

See also Peloponnesian War

Peripolarchoi , 6 n7

Peripoloi , 6 , 23 , 31 , 107 , 188

Persians. See Artaxerxes; Pharnabazos

Petrakos, B., 199

Phaleron, 203

Pharnabazos, 135 -36, 173 n69, 179

Philip II of Macedon, 121 -23

Philip V of Macedon, 101 n8

Phleious, 131 , 141 , 153

Phoibidas, 162 , 219

Phokion, 55 -57, 189 , 190 -95;

and the Academy, 182 n91

Phokis, 172 , 173 , 175

Phyle, 9 , 16 , 17 , 26 , 100 , 122 n61, 156 , 168 ;

maps , 6 , 99 ;

figure 5

Pisidians, 29

Plakoto tower, 94 , 152 ;

map , 99 ;

7, 38.

See also Watchtowers, in Attica

Plataia, 8 n12, 169 n61;

pro-Spartan base, 138 , 140 , 142 , 143 , 146 , 163 , 171 n63, 172 n66, 217 ;

maps , 6 , 99 ;

road to, 139 .

See also Dryos Kephalai

Plato, on territorial defense, 14 , 18 , 27 -29, 30 , 56 , 104 , 108 , 109 , 194 ;

and Chabrias, 181 -82

Pleistoanax, 107

Plunder and devastation, 15 , 21 , 22 -23, 29 , 102 ;

in the Boiotian War, 142 , 146 , 149 , 154 , 157 , 160 -61, 162 , 164 -65, 168 .

See also Raids

Plutarch, On the Daimon of Sokrates , 137 -38

Polybios, on signaling, 92

Proeisphora , 149 n28

Pyrgarthi, 64 , 65 , 92 ;

map , 39 ;

figure 20

R

Raids, 23 , 27 -31, 107 , 117 ;

in the Boiotian War, 169 , 171 , 176 , 178 , 182 .

See also Plunder and devastation

Reshid Pasha, 101 n8, 202 -8

Restis tower: map , 99 ;

figure 36.

See also Watchtowers, in Attica

Revenues, 175 -77.

See also Eisphora, Proeisphora

Rhamnous, 10 , 16 , 17 , 19 , 26 , 29 n57, 169 n61;

maps , 6 , 99 ;

figure 7

Road of the Towers, 140 n16;

figure 41

Rotroff, S., 86 n21

S

Sackett, L. H. See Jones, J. E.

Sacred Band, 159 , 190

Sacred Way, 37 , 43 n9, 94 .

See also Daphni pass

Salamis, 65 , 203 ;

maps , 99 , 204 ;

figure 21.

See also Restis tower

― 247 ―

Scranton, R., 11 -12

Signals and signal systems, 31 n61, 63 n1, 89 , 92 , 104 , 105 , 107 n23;

in Attica, 18 , 63 , 89 , 94 -95, 100 , 109 , 152 , 154 , 156 , 169 , 182 , 193 .

See also Watchposts; Watchtowers

Siteresion , 176 n75

Skias, A. N., 114

Skolos, 156 , 163 , 164 ;

map , 99

Skourta plain, 7 , 26 , 156 , 207 ;

maps , 99 , 204 ;

figure 2

Sounion, 10 , 26 , 43 n9;

map , 6 ;

figure 8

Sparkes, B., and L. Talcott, 90 n28

Sparta and Spartans: threat to Attica, 10 , 18 , 21 , 102 -3, 108 , 112 -13, 115 n43, 116 -19, 125 , 141 -42, 144 , 148 , 149 , 181 -82, 194 ;

predictable mode of warfare, 14 , 103 ;

hegemony of, 131 -32, 134 , 180 -81, 230 ;

diplomacy with Athens, 142 -43, 144 , 145 -46, 147 , 172 , 174 -175;

influence in Boiotia, 137 , 142 -44, 153 , 161 -63, 166 -67, 168 , 170 -71;

troop strength, 148 , 156 , 160 -61, 168 , 225 -26.

See also Agesilaos; Agis; Archidamos; Athenian sentiment; Cavalry; Herippidas; Hoplites; Kleombrotos; Kleomenes; Lysanoridas; Megara; Mercenaries; Peloponnesian War; Peltasts; Phoibidas; Plataia; Pleistoanax; Sphodrias; Tanagra; Thespiai

Sphendale, 17

Sphodrias: harmost at Thespiai, 118 , 143 , 144 , 145 ;

invades Attica, 18 , 103 , 116 , 118 , 135 n8, 144 , 145 -48, 153 , 174 , 195 , 222 , 224 , 225 ;

trial of, 132 , 146 , 147

Strategos. See Generals;

[Full Size]

Syntaxis , 176 n74

T

Tambouria , 60 , 67 n4, 206

Tamynai, battle of, 55 , 189

Tanagra: pro-Spartan, 143 , 164 -65;

Panthoidas harmost at, 165 , 167 , 168 , 178 ;

under Theban control, 172

Tegyra, 172

Teichopoioi , 122 -23

Theban stockade, 53 -55, 57 , 103 , 104 , 109 , 125 , 149 -51, 154 , 157 , 160 ;

map, 99

Theban uprising of 379/8, 133 , 136 -39, 140 -41, 152 -53, 177 , 212 , 216 .

See also Kadmeia

Thebans: allied with Athenians, 53 , 103 , 117 , 121 , 136 , 140 , 141 , 147 , 148 -51, 153 , 175 , 181 ;

hostile to Athenians, 22 , 25 , 54 -55, 119 -21, 187 , 190 , 224 ;

growing influence among Boiotians, 138 , 162 , 172 , 174 -75, 226 .

See also Boiotian confederacy; Boiotians; Cavalry; Epameinondas; Grogginess; Hoplites; Pelopidas; Peltasts

Theopompos, 211

Thermopylai, wall at, 56 n49

Thespiai: pro-Spartan, 138 , 142 , 168 , 170 , 217 ;

Sphodrias harmost at, 118 , 143 , 144 , 146 , 225 ;

base for Agesilaos, 155 , 157 , 160 , 161 , 163 , 166 ;

fortified, 161 -62;

Phoibidas harmost at, 162 , 168 ;

new harmost and Spartan mora sent to, 162 , 167 ;

civil unrest at, 166 ;

under Theban control, 172

Thorikos, 11 ;

map , 6

Thrasyboulos, 9

Thriasian Lager, 84 n17, 85 n18, 208 ;

map , 204

Thucydides, on the causes of war, 129

Timon, 87 n24

Timotheos, 172 , 174 , 176

Towers. See Watchtowers

Treaty. See Peace

Trials. See Generals

Tritle, L, 192

Turks. See Greek War of Independence; Reshid Pasha

V

Velatouri tower, 94 , 152 ;

map , 99 ;

figures 39, 40 . See also Watchtowers, in Attica Vouliagmeni, 11 ;

map , 6

W

Walls. See Barrier walls; Forts and for-tresses;

[Full Size]

Watchposts, 6 , 24 , 28 , 31 n60, 63 , 109 , 118 , 168 , 182 , 193 ;

debate about strengths and positions of, 3 .

See also Defense; Signals and signal systems; Watchtowers;

Watchtowers: in Attica, 10 n19, 63 , 91 , 94 -95, 100 , 103 , 106 , 111 -12, 113 , 118 , 152 , 182 , 187 ;

in Boiotia, 110 n35.

See also Aigaieos tower; Dema tower; Hymettos tower; Korydallos tower; Plakoto tower; Restis tower; Signals and signal systems; Velatouri tower; Watchposts

― 248 ―

Winter, F. E., 17 , 19 , 20

Winterberger, 16 -17

X

Xenophon: on territorial defense, 3 -5, 15 n31, 20 -23, 27 , 29 -31, 104 , 107 -8, 194 ;

personal experience, 108 , 216 -17, 219 -21;

tendencies in Hellenika ,131 -32, 161 , 164 , 165 , 219 -21;

com-pared to Diodoros, 134 , 137 , 157 , 160 -61, 216 -18, 222 .

See also Agesilaos; Chabrias; Kleombrotos

― 249 ―

INDEX OF SOURCES

A

Aeneas Tacticus

1.1 ff.: 14 n31, 181 n91

3.3:106 n21

6-8:181 n91

7:14 n31, 31 n60

7.4:107 n23

8.1:106 n21

8.1-5: 107 n23

9: 14n31

9.1-3:120 n55

10.1-4:14 n31

10.18-19:106 n21

12-13:188 n3

12.1:106 n21

12.2-5:106 n21

13.1-4:106 n21

15:14 n31

15-16:181 n91

15.1-10:29

15.5:52 n34, 59 n56, 105 n18, 106 n21

16:14 n31

16.4-7:106 n21

16.7:104 n16, 105 n18

16.16:105 n17

16.17:106 n22

16.17-18:105 n19

16.18-19:15 n31

16.19:105 n20

18.1:14 n31

21.1:107 n23

23:14 n31

23.7:28 n56

23.7-11:29

26.7:106 n21

26.7-14:92 n33

27.2:92 n33

38.1-5:92 n33

Aischines

1,Against Timarchos

49:188 -89n5 bis

2, On the Embassy

105:188 n1

117:222

138-40:119 n53, 120 n55

139:31

167:4 n3, 6 n7, 107 n25, 188 n5 bis

169:55 n46, 189 n8 and n9

170:189 n5

184:189 n5

3, Against Ktesiphon

80:31 , 119 n53, 120 n55

86-88:55 n46

140:121 n58

150-51:121 n58

236:123 n63

Andokides

3, On the Peace:117 n48

16:117 n50

25-26:116 n47

Aristides

Panathenaikos (Panath.)

scholia to 171-72:135 n9

172-73:222

294-95 and scholia: 137 n12

296 and scholia: 156 n41, 182 n92, 212

― 250 ―

Aristophanes

Ekklesiazousai (Ekkles.)

193-94:115 n44

195-96:116 n45

196-200: 117 n50

Hippeis (Hipp.)

576-97:52 n36

Peace

scholion to 1019:174 n70, 180 n85

Wealth

172-73:117 n50, 188 n3, 213

Aristotle

Athenaion Politeia (AthPol.)

24.1:170 n61, 178 n82

24.3:169 n61, 178 n82

27.2:170 n61

37.2: 219

38.1:115 n43

39:115 n41

40.3:115 n43

40.4:115 n42

42.1-5:4 n3, 188 n4

42.3:178 n82

42.4:6 n7, 28 , 107 n25, 188 n5

43.4:4 nn1, 2, 188 n2, 192 n19

44.4:150 n31, 212

61.1:4 n1, 31 n61

Oikonomikos (Oik.)

2.2.23:176 n75

Politics (Pol.)

1326b- 1327a:3 , 56 n50, 105 n20

1330a :29

1330b-1331a:15 n31

1331b:28

Rhetoric (Rhet.)

1360a:3 , 105 n20, 188 n2, 190

1364a: 190

1411a: 178 n82

1411b:183 n94

Arrian

Anabasis (Anab.)

1.7-8:218

1.10.2:31

C

Columella

De Re Rustica

9.7.2-6:84 n16

D

Daimachos

FGrHist 65 F 3-4: 56 n50

Deinarchos

1, Against Demosthenes

38-39:133 n5, 137 n12, 222

39:103 n14, 216

[Demades]

On the Twelve Years

14:31

Demosthenes

1, First Olynthiac

15:194

24-28:194

26:119 n53

2, Second Olynthiac

24:103 n14, 181 n90

3, Third Olynthiac

8:119 n53, 194

4, First Philippic

3:103 n14, 181 n90

17:110 n35

24:135 n9

26:194

28:176 n75

5, On the Peace

15-16:119 n53

6, Second Philippic

23-24:56 n51, 121

35:194

9, Third Philippic

47:103 n14, 181 n90

48:103 n14

10, Fourth Philippic

34:174 n69

14, On the Naval Boards

10-11:25 n53

33-34:25 , 119 n53

16, For the Megalopolitans

11:29 , 119 n53

14:222

18, On the Crown

18:119 n53

36:119 n53, 120 n55

37-38:26 and n55, 31 and n60

38:10 n18

143:194

176:119 n53

177:7 , 121 n58

184:7

188:119 n53

215:121 n58

― 251 ―

241:119 n53

8:188 n2

300:15 n31, 25 n53, 123 n64, 194

19, On the Embassy

86:31

125:31 , 119 n53, 120 n55

287:213

326:7 , 29 , 119 n53

20, Against Leptines

11-12:115 n43

76:103 n14, 135 n9 bis, 156 n41, 181 n90, 182 n93

22, Against Androtion

15:176 n76

44:149 n28

54:177 n77

61:177 n77

47, Against Euergos and Mnesiboulos

52:28 n56

50, Against Polykles

6:177 n78

7:176 n75, 213

10-23:176 n75, 213

54, Against Konon

3-5:7

Diodoros

11.56.4:155 n39

12.6.1:107 n27

13.89.3:155 n39

14.17.3:9 n17

14.28.2:155 n39

14.38.4-5:220

14.81.3:130 n1

14.82.1-4:115 n44

14.85.1-3:116 n46

14.86.3:117 n48

14.86.4:117 n48

14.92.2:135 n9, 188 n3

15.1.1-6:132

15.25.1:130 n1

15.25.1-27.4:137 n12

15.25.3:217

15.26.1:133 , 137

15.26.1-4:103 n14, 133

15.26.2:137 , 214 , 226 , 227

15.26.2-4:156 n41, 133 , 225 , 226

15.26.4:138 , 157 n42

15.27.1:216

15.27.2:220

15.27.2-3:218

15.27.3:138 , 219

15.27.3-29.6:141 n18

15.27.4:142

15.28-35:133

15.28.2-5:141 n17

15.28.5:130 n1

15.29.1-4:136 n11

15.29.2:136

15.20.2-4:135 n9

15.29.4:173 n69 bis, 211

15.29.5:146 n23

15.29.5-8:103 n14, 145 n23

15.29.6:143 , 225

15.29.7:133 bis, 147 n26, 150 n31, 179 n83, 212 , 227 bis

15.30:165 n55, 177 n80

15.30.3-4:219

15.31.1-2:225

15.31.2:167 n59

15.31.3-4:153

15.32.1:225 bis

15.32.1-2:225

15.32.2:155 n39, 156 bis and n41, 214 , 226

15.32.2-3:132 , 133

15.32.2-33.4:156 n40

15.32.3-6:50 n29, 157 n43, 159 n45, 214

15.32.4:158 bis

15.32.5:156 n41, 211

15.32.6:160

15.33.1:161 n47 and n48

15.33.4:156 n41, 157 n43, 182 n94, 214

15.33.6:162 n50

15.34.1:50 n29, 162 n50

15.34.1-2:133 , 164 n54, 166 n57

15.34.3:171 n64, 177 n78

15.36.4:133 15.36.5:172 n65

15.37.1-2:172 n66

15.38.1:173 n69, 229

15.38.2:179 n84

15.38.3:175 , 230

15.38.4:230 bis

15.38-39:134 , 74 n71

15.41-43:173 n69

15.41.1:179 n84

15.41.2:173 n69

15.42.1-4:135 n9

15.44:56 n50

― 252 ―

Diodoros (continued )

15.46.4-6:120 n55

15.50.2:132

15.50.4-6:134 , 174 n71

15.52.2:226

15.52.5:166 n57

15.52.7-53.1:109 n35

15.63.2: 228 bis

15.63.3-64.5:110 n35

15.68:54 n42

15.68.2:167 n59

15.68.4:54 n43

15.68.5:55 n44

15.69:55 n45

15.71.6:52 n34

15.76.1:190 n11

15.85.4-5:52 n34

16.7.3-4:133

16.38.1-2:110 n35

16.42.8:55 n46

18.8-18:124 n66

18.10.2:191 n13

18.65.6-67.6:189 n5

18.73.4:155 n39

19.19.2:155 n39

19.38.6:155 n39

19.78.3-4:101 n8

Diogenes Laerfius

3.24:182 n91

E

Eupolis

F 126 (Edmonds):169 n61

Euripides

Suppliants (Suppl.)

758-59:8 n12

Eusebius

p. 196 (Karst):230

F

Frontinus

Stratagematon (Strat. )

1.4.3:164 n54

2.5.26:54 n42

H

Hellenika Oxyrhynchia (HellOxy.) London papyrus

12.3:31 n61

12.4:70 n11

Herodotos

5.74-75:107 n27

5.74.2:8 and n12, 101 n8

6.108:8 n12

7.176:56 n49

7.208:56 n49

7.223:56 n49

7.225:56 n49

9.15:56 n49

9.15.1:17 n35

9.39:139 n15

9.65:56 n49

9.70:56 n49

9.73.3:101 n8

9.96-102:56 n49

Hesiod

Works and Days

383-84, 597-99:156 n40

I

Isaios

4, On the Estate of Nikostratos

7,18, 26, 29:213

5, On the Estate of Dikaiogenes

37:117 n48

37-38:117 n50

9, On the Estate of Astyphilos

14: 153n35, 213

10, Against Xenainetos

20:117 n50

Isokrates

4, Panegyrikos

20:180 n87

115-17:143 n20

125-26:143 n20

140:135 n9

161:30

163:30

5, To Philip

52-54:119 n53

7, Areopagitikos

68:115 n43

8, On the Peace

16:174 n69, 180 n86

67-68:143 n20

68:174 n69

14, Plataikos

6:223

9:172 n66

15:161 n48

― 253 ―

17:143 n20, 223 , 224

20:223

21-22:175

24:223

27:223

29:133 n5, 142 n19, 153 n35, 222 bis

31-32:223

33:175

36:223

37:175 , 223

41:230

53-54:223

57-62:223

15, Antidosis

109:172 n65, 176 n75, 230

109-110:180 n86, 230

J

Justin

5.10.8-11:115 n42

L

Livy

31.24.1-8:101 n8

Lucian

Timon

42:87 n24

Lykourgos

Against Leokrates

16:15 n31, 31

38:32 n62

44:123 n63 47:15 n31, 25 n53, 123 n65, 194

59:32 n62

Lysias

2, Funeral Oration

70:116 n47

12, Against Eratosthenes

40:32 n62

13, Against Agoratos

71:6 n7

14, Against Alkibiades 1

35:32 n62

16, For Mantitheos

15-16:116 n45

16:116 n47

19, 0n the Estate of Aristophanes

11:117 n50

21:213

22, Against the Grain Dealers

14-15:177 n78

25, Against the Charge of Having Subverted the Democracy

9:115 n42

26, Against Euandros

22:117 n50

27, Against Epikrates

3:117 n50

28, Against Ergokles

3-4:117 n50

29, Against Philokrates

9:117 n50

30, Against Nikomachos

22:115 n43

N

Nepos

9.4.5:116 n46

11.1:56 n50

11.2.4:179 n84

12.1:157 n43, 159 n45, 182 n94

12.2.1:210

12.2.2:135 n9

12.3.1:211

13.2.1:172 n65

13.2.2:230 bis

O

Olympiodoros

Vita Platonis (Bekker)

xlvi: 87 n24

Onasandros

Strategikos (Strat.)

7.1:59 n56

8.1:57 n52

10.4:51 n33

10.20:57 n52

10.22:51 n33

18:48 n23, 51 n33, 59 n56

21.3:59 n56

21.3-4:105 n20

P

Pausanias

1.3.2:183 n94

1.24.7:183 n94

1.30.4:87 n24

1.32.2:87 n22

1.34.1:9 n17

1.38.8:6 n12

1.36.9:9

3.4.2:107 n27

― 254 ―

Pausanias (continued )

5.13.8:87 n22

9.1.4-8:120 n55

9.2.3:9 ,139n15

9.13.3:109 n35

9.13.7:102 n11, 110 n35

Philochoros

FGrHist 328

F 41:149 n28

F 151:136 n11, 174 n69, 177 n79, 180 n85

Plato

Laws

625d:108 n29

760a-763c:28

760b-763b:108 n31

760c-761a:105 n20

760e:56 n51, 108 n32

760e-761a:14 n30, 107 n23

763a-b:105 n20

778d-e:14 n30, 193

778e:18 , 56 n51, 107 n23, 108 n31 and n32

794c-d:108 n30

813d-814a:108 n30

815a:108 n30

823b and e:28 n56

830d-831a:51 n33, 108 n30

833a-834a:108 n30

842e-846c:28

843a:29

955b-c:29

Republic (Rep.)

373d-e:29

414c-e:188 n4

498a:188 n4

615b:32 n62

Plutarch

[Note: citations are according to the chapter divisions of the Loeb edition.]

Agesilaos (Ages.)

24.1:142 n19, 153 n35

24.4:146 n23

24.4-26.1:103 n14, 145 n23

24.6-25.5:147

26.3-5:161 n48, 162 n49

26.4:166 n57

27.1-2:167 n59

27.4-28.2:175 n73

Alkibiades (Alk.)

25.10:6 n7

34.3:102 n12

Antony (Ant.)

70:87 n34

Demosthenes (Dem.)

10.2-3:191

18.3-4:121 n59

20.1:121 n59

27-28:124 n66

Pelopidas (Pel.)

4.3-5.1:224

12-14.1:137 n12

13.1-2:216

13.2:138 , 140 , 218 , 219

14-15:103 n14, 145 n23

14.1:103 n14, 159 n45, 224

14.1-3:141 n18, 146 n23

14.2:146 n24

15.1:147 n26

15.4:165 , 167 , 168 , 171 n63

15.5:54 n41

16-17:172 n66

18.1:159 n45

19.3:159 n45

25.5-6:171 n63

31.2-3:226

35.1:226

Perikles (Per.)

22.1:107 n27

Phokion (Phok.)

4.1:182 n91

5.2-4:191 , 194

6.1:55 n48

6.1-7.2:55 n47, 182 n91

6.2-7.1:56 n48

6.3:171 n64

8-9:191 n13

8.1-2:191 n14

9.2-6:193

9.4:29 , 119 n53, 188 n1, 191 n12

13.2-3:189 n8 and n9

15:191 n13

15.1:120 n55

16.2-3:193 , 194

17.1:191 n13, 193

22-27:124 n66

22.3-4:193

23-24:193

23.2:193 , 194

24-25:191 n13

24.2-3:188 n1

― 255 ―

24.3:55 n48

26.3:193

Moralia (Mor.)

193d-e:188 n1

193f:55 n45

214a:161 n48, 162 n49

576a:219

577d:138 n13

578a-b:138 n13, 217

586e:138 , 217 , 219

586e-f:137 n12, 138 and n13 bis, 217

594d:138

598f:137 n12, 138 bis, 217 , 218 , 219

791a:55 n47

805f:55 n47

851a:123 n63

1126c:182 n91

Polyainos

2.1.2:50 n29, 157 n43, 159 n45 bis

2.1.7:161 n48, 162 n49

2.l.11:53 n39, 163 n52, 164 n54

2.1.12:50 n29, 164 n54

2.1.20:167 n58

2.1.21:161 n48, 164 n53

2.1.24:164 n54

2.1.25:53 n39

2.3.4:54 n42

2.3.7:54 n42

2.3.9:54 n42

2.21:220

3.9.20:120 n55, 188 n1

3.10.4:174 n70

3.11.6:135 n9

3.11.8:59 n56 3.11.15:135 n9, 183 n96

Polybios

2.62.6:133 , 179 n83, 227

2.62.6-7:103 n14, 149 n28

10.43.5-10:92 n32

10.44:107 n23

10.45.1-5:92 n32

S

Strabo

8.2.11:17 n55

9.2.51:8 n12

T

Theopompos

FGrHist 115

F 105:211

F 164:119 n53

Thucydides

1.93.6:188 n4, 227

1.105.4:188 n4, 227

1.114.2:107 n27

1.142.2-4:113 n37

1.143.4-5:113 n37

2.2:120 n55

2.6.4:169 n61

2.13.2:31 , 113 n37

2.13.6:169 n61

2.13.6-7:227

2.14:31

2.14.1:28 n56

2.16:31

2.17:31

2.18-19:101 n8

2.18.1-3:32 n62

2.18.2:7 ,31

2.19.1:32 n62, 156 n40

2.19.2:31 n61, 52 n36, 52 n37, 102 n12, 150 n30

2.20.4:102 n12

2.21.1:107 n27

2.21.3-22.1:113 n37

2.22.2:31 n61, 52 n36

2.23.1:101 n8

2.23.3-24.1:9 n17

2.32:28 n56

2.77.2:169 n61

2.78.3:169 n61

2.79.3-7:52 n34

3.1.2:52 n36

3.91.3:9 n17

4.4-5:120 n54

4.67.2:169 n61

4.68.5:7

4.90:151

4.90.1:151

4.93.3:226

4.93.4:159 n45

4.94:151

4.96.7-9:9 n17

5.3.5:7

5.10.5-8:160 n46

5.17.2-18.1:230

5.39.3:7

5.47.6:178 n82

5.68.3:151 n32

6.18.4:113 n38

6.91.6-92.1:113 n38

7.18.1:113 n38

7.18.2:141 n18

― 256 ―

Thucydides (continued)

7.19.1-2:113 n38

7.27.1:215

7.27.4:162

7.27.5: 31 n61, 52 n36, 113 n39

7.28.2:52 n36

7.78.3-6:52 n34

7.78.5-79.4:56 n49

7.80.6:56 n49

8.4:10

8.45.2:176 n75

8.60.1:9 n17

8.92.2:6 n7

8.95:9 n17

8.98: 8, 32 n62

8.98.2:31 n61, 113 n39, 169 n61

X

Xenophon

Agesilaos (Ages.)

2.7:158

2.10-11:220

2.12-13:154 n37

2.22:153 n35, 160 bis, 164 n54

6.3:161 n48

Anabasis (Anab.)

1.1.11:29

1.2.1:29

1.2.3-9:215

1.6.7:29

1.9.14:29

3.2.23:29

3.3.1-4.8.28:50 n27

3.4.38-49:51 n33

4.1.23-2.16:51 n33

4.6.6-27:51 n33

4.8.9-19:51 n33

Cyropaedia

3.2.1-3.4:30

3.2.11:19 n42

Hellenika (Hell.)

1.2.1:11 , 213

2.2.20:224

2.4.2:9 , 19 n42

2.4.8-9:114 n40

2.4.25:213

2.4.28:115 n43

2.4.43:115 n42

3.1.1-2:221

3.1.13:30

3.4.6:220

3.4.11-12:154 n38

3.4.20: 220 bis

3.5.8-16:115 n44

4.1.20-28:220

4.2.10-12:115 n44

4.2.13:116 n45

4.2.17:226 , 227 bis

4.2.18:159 n45

4.3.15:220

4.3.16:159 n45

4.3.17:160 n46, 220

4.3.19-20:154 n37

4.4.1-2:116 n47

4.4.7-13:117 n48

4.4.14:116 n47

4.4.16-17:183 n96

4.4.18:116 n47, 117 n48, 141 n18, 152 and n33

4.4.19:117 n49

4.5.1-19:117 n49

4.5.3:154 n38

4.5.13:212

4.6.6:154 n38

4.7.2:116 n47

4.8.9-10:116 n46

4.8.24: 213

4.8.34:213 , 215

5.1.1:171 n64

5.1.7:171 n64

5.1.10:135 n9, 212 , 213 , 214

5.1.13:171 n64

5.1.18-24:171 n64

5.2.21:178 n82

5.3.26: 224

5.3.27:131 , 180 n89

5.4.1:131

5.4.2-18:137 n12

5.4.9:109 n34, 138 n13, 212

5.4.9-21:118 n51

5.4.10:138 n1, 171 n63, 217 bis, 219

5.4.10-11:216

5.4.11:219

5.4.12-14:153 n35

5.4.13:153 n35, 218 , 219 , 221

5.4.13-14:142 n19

5.4.14:8 n12, 51 n33, 102 n11, 107 n26, 138 n13, 139 , 210 , 212

5.4.15:143 , 225

5.4.15-20:141 n18

5.4.19:103 n14, 116 n47, 118 , 141 n18, 152 n33, 212

5.4.20:116 n46, 224

― 257 ―

5.4.20-34:103 n14, 145 n23

5.4.25-33:132 , 147 n25

5.4.32:146

5.4.34:116 n46, 147 n25 and n26

5.4.35:153 n35

5.4.36-37:102 n11, 155 n39

5.4.38:53 n39, 164 n53

5.4.38-41:53 n38, 150 n29, 156 n40

5.4.39:53 n39, 166 n57

5.4.41:160 , 161 n49

5.4.46:162 n51, 165 bis, 220 , 226

5.4.47:102 n11, 153 n35, 163

5.4.48-50:150 n29, 163 n52

5.4.49:165

5.4.49-54:164 n54

5.4.50:50 n29

5.4.52-53:166 n57

5.4.54:166 , 226

5.4.55:167 n58

5.4.58:167 n59

5.4.59:51 n33, 102 n11, 107 n26, 140 n16, 153 n35, 170 n62

5.4.60-61:171 n64, 177 n78

5.4.62-66:172 n65

5.4.63:132 , 172 and n66, 176 n75

5.4.65:176 n75

5.4.66:176

6. 1.1:172 n66 and n67

6.1.2-19:132

6.2.1:109 n34 and n35, 118 , 168 , 171 n64,172 n67, 173 n68, 230

6.2.10:215

6.2.16:178 n82

6.2.33-34:109 n34

6.2.39:183 n95

6.3.4-17:132

6.3.18-20:175 n73

6.4.2-3:131

6.4.3:109 n35

6.4.5:170 n62

6.4.9-11:213

6.4.13:213

6.5.24:110 n35

6.5.26:110 n35

6.5.38-39:119 n53

6.5.49:228

6.5.51-52:110 n35, 228

7.1.15:54 n43

7.1.15-16:55 n44

7.1.15-17:54 n42

7.1.18-19:55 n45

7.1.41:110 n35

7.2.5:110 n35

7.3.1:182 n91

7.4.1:9 n17, 190 n11, 191 n12

7.4.4-5:188 n3

7.4.38:110 n35

7.5.15:7

7.5.15-17:221

7.5.24-25:52 n34

Hieron

10.4-8:30 n58, 178 n82

10.6:159 n45

Hipparchikos (Hipparch.)

4.6: 31n61, 105 n20

4.15:15 n31, 31 n61

5.13:52 n34

6.3:15 n31, 31 n61

7:52 n36

7.1-2:31 n61

7.1-3:119 n53, 121 n57

7.2-4:21 n45, 187

7.3-13:15 n31

7.4:31 n61, 52 n36, 108 n28

7.5-15:31 n61

8.3:105 n20

8.8:28 n56

8.19:52 n34

9.3:227

9.4:213

9.7:52 n34

Memorabilia (Mem.)

3.5.1-28:194 n21

3.5.2-4:107 n25, 119 n53, 121 n57

3.5.15-16:107 n25

3.5.25:107 n24, 119 n53

3.5.25-27:3 , 29 , 102 n11

3.5.27:31 n61, 187

3.6:192 n19

3.6.10-11:3 , 179 n82, 188 n2, 190 , 193

Oikonomikos (Oik.)

6.6-7:15 n31

Poroi

4.9:179 n82

4.40-41:177 n77

4.43:11

4.43-44:30 , 31

4.43-48:15 n31, 22 n47, 187

4.46-48:119 n53

4.47:6 n7, 27 , 31 and n61, 52 n36

4.51-52:188 n2 and n4, 193 , 194 n21

― 258 ―

Poroi (continued )

4.52:6 n7, 15 n31, 179 n82

5.7:222

Inscriptions

IG I2 943, 96-97:8 n12

IG II2 43

9-12:141 h17

12-15:148 n26

IG II2 44:165 n55

IG II2 97, 21 -23, 31 -35:230

IG II2 204

19-20:4 n2, 190 n10

20-21:6 n7

IG II2 244, 11 :122 n61

IG II2 680, 12 :190 n9

IG II2 1156, 45 -51:28 n57

IG II2 1189:28 n57

IG II2 1299:29 n57

IG II2 1304, 15 -17:29 n57

IG II2 1312:29 n57

IG II2 1656:116 n45

IG II2 1662-1664:116 n46

IG II2 6217:116 n45

Dittenberger 654, A 10:190 n9

ML 48, 96-97:8 n12

Petrakos 1990, 3-4:10 n18

Pouilloux 1954, nos. 7, 15, 21: 29 n57

Reinmuth 1971, nos. 2,3:28 n57

Tod

105:116 n45

107A:116 n45

123:141 n17, 148 n26

124:165 n55

127: 230

204: 32 n62

― 259 ―

INDEX OF GREEK TERMS

[Full Size]28

[Full Size]4 , 192

[Full Size]10 n19

[Full Size]31 n60. See also Watchposts

[Full Size]. See Koine eirene

[Full Size]30 . See also Plunder and devastation; Raids

[Full Size]137 , 151 -52, 228

[Full Size]151

[Full Size]214

[Full Size]212 -13. See also Peltasts

[Full Size]141 n18, 181 n90

[Full Size]

57 . See also Barrier walls; Palisades

[Full Size]212 -13;

[Full Size]7 ;

[Full Size]7 ;

[Full Size]4 , 7 , 31 n61, 190 , 192 . See also Generals

[Full Size]14 , 15 n31. See also Fortifications; Forts and fortresses

[Full Size]28

[Full Size]28

[Full Size]118 , 168 , 173 , 177

[Full Size]4-6, 13 -15, 19 , 24 , 25 -32. See also Defense

[Full Size]28 , 169 n60. See also Watchposts

[Full Size]57 . See also Barrier walls; Palisades

[Full Size]55 n46, 57 n52. See also

[Full Size]; Charax

[Full Size]15 n31, 25 , 28 , 29 . See also

[Full Size]

[Full Size]

[Full Size]9 , 19 ;

[Full Size]19

[Full Size]48 n23, 151 . See also Light-armed infantry

― 260 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 1.Eleusis, southeastern fortifications built in the first half of the fourth century (lower c

ourses)

[Full Size]

Figure 2.Panakton above the Skourta plain, seen from the northeast

― 261 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 3.Oinoe (center) seen from the northwest

[Full Size]

Figure 4.Eleutherai, view northwest from central building showing midfourth-century walls

and road through Kithairon pass

― 262 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 5.Phyle, the fortress seen from the east

[Full Size]

Figure 6.Kotroni, the acropolis of Aphidna, seen from the southwest

― 263 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 7.Rhamnous, the fortress seen from the south

[Full Size]

Figure 8.Sounion, detail of fortifications built in 412

― 264 ―

[Full Size]

Figure.9.The Dema wall in Aigaleos-Parnes gap, seen from the slopes of Aigales (from the sou

th)

― 265 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 10.The Dema wall on Pyrgarthi, sally port 16 in foreground, seen from the south

[Full Size]

Figure 11.The Dema wall, freestanding wall-sections north of sally port 35, seen from the south

west

― 266 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 12.The Dema wall, masonry between sally sports 23 and 24

[Full Size]

Figure 13.The Dema wall, masonry also between sally ports 23 and 24

[Full Size]

Figure 14.The Dema wall, masonry between sally ports 2 and 3

― 267 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 15.The Dema wall, masonry between sally ports 29 and 30

[Full Size]

Figure 16.The Dema wall, masonry between sally port 28 and the northern gate

[Full Size]

Figure 17.Athens city wall, detail showing masonry of the "Kononian" phase (central courses)

built in the first half of the fourth century

― 268 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 18.The Dema wall, drafted corner at sally port 5

[Full Size]

Figure 19.The Dema wall, northern sector

― 269 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 20.The Dema wall and tower on Pyrgarthi (center), seen from the north

― 270 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 21.View to the southwest from the Dema tower

― 271 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 22.View to the west from the Dema tower

― 272 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 23.View to the north from the Dema twoer

― 273 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 24.View to the east from the Dema twoer

― 274 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 25.The Dema tower before excavation, seen from the south

[Full Size]

Figure 26.The Dema tower after excavation, seen from the southeast

― 275 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 27.Tile packing in 4S during excavation south of Wall 4 (right)

[Full Size]

Figure 28.Catalog nos. 3, 14, and 18 during excavation in 2S

― 276 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 29.Finds from the Dema tower (1:2).

― 277 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 30.Finds from the Dema tower (14, 15, comparandum =0 1:5; 19 =1:2)

― 278 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 31.Finds from the Dema tower (18 = 1:5.5; 20 = 1:4)

― 279 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 32.Finds from the Dema tower (1:2)

― 280 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 33.Finds from the Dema tower (1:2)

― 281 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 34.The Hymettos tower, seen from the east

[Full Size]

Figure 35.The Aigaleos tower, detail of northwest side

[Full Size]

Figure 36.The Restis tower on Salamis, seen from the north

― 282 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 37.The Plakoto tower, seen from the west

[Full Size]

Figure 38.The Plakoto tower, detail of inner circuit wall

― 283 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 39.The Velatouri tower, seen from the southeast

[Full Size]

Figure 40.The Velatouri tower, detail of the west side

― 284 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 41.The Karydi pass, view south through the Vathychoria along the "Road of the Towers"

to the plain of Megara

[Full Size]

Figure 42.The Karydi pass, view northeast toward the Dryos Kephalai pass

― 285 ―

[Full Size]

Figure 43.The Dema wall saltcellar and comparanda from the Athenian Agora (top row scale =

1:1 remainder = 1:2

― 286 ―

Designer: Ina Clausen

Compositor: G&S Typesetters, Inc.

Text: 10/12 Baskerville

Display: Baskerville

Printer: Malloy Lithographing, Inc.

Binder: John H. Dekker & Sons, Inc.